Page 124 of For the Boys
Brent looked at her sitting next to him, chewing her bottom lip. “I will never forget about you.”
“Good,” she told him. “Now where’s this meal I was promised? I’m starving.”
“You know,” Brent said, “I was just thinking the same thing.”
He watched as Berkley realized too late what he’d meant and tried to make a run for it. He caught her by the waist in the hallway outside his room, scooped her up, and playfully tossed her onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.
“I distinctly remember you saying something about being most comfortable when you’re naked,” Brent said, crawling on top of her, sliding his hands under the waistband of her leggings, cupping her ass. “Why don’t I help you with that?”
He took his time with her after that, cruelly pushing her to the edge with his fingers, mouth, and dick, but never quite letting her go over it. Finally, when he could no longer take it, he gave them both what they wanted.
“You asshole,” she breathed, her chest rapidly rising and falling. She made a pathetic attempt to swat at him where he had collapsed next to her, her hand barely grazing his chest.
He chuckled. He would never tire of sex with this woman. Even when he was torturing her, sex with Berkley was the best sex of his life. Sex with someone he loved was better than anything he had ever experienced before.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Berkley asked, “When did you realize you were in love with me?”
The question surprised him. She hadn’t said I love you back, which admittedly had deflated his ego a bit. He had expected her to say it right away. Was she not as into him, as serious about their relationship, as he was?
But then tonight, when she had given him that digital picture frame and seemed genuinely concerned he would forget about her while he was on the road, he realized that was crazy. She certainly cared about him. A lot. She just needed more time before she could say it back. Right?
Despite his doubts, his answer came easily. “I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
“Really?” she asked, turning onto her side to look at him. “And when was that, exactly?”
Trailing his fingers down her bare side, the corners of Brent’s mouth tilted up as he remembered that night.
“Let’s go get drunk,” Mitch said as he and Brent walked out of the arena.
The early May air still had a bit of a bite to it, and Brent hunched his shoulders, shielding his ears from the wind. The Warriors had just been knocked out of the playoffs, on home ice no less, so Brent had zero commitments for the next three months.
“I’m down,” Brent said. “Where do you want to go?”
“It’s Thursday. Where else but Billy’s?”
Brent smiled. Billy’s was the local country bar, and Thursday was Ladies’ Night. Finding someone to bury himself in to help him forget his season was over was basically a sure thing.
He was Brent Jean, after all, and he wasn’t above using that to his advantage when he was in this kind of mood.
Brent went home to change, and thirty minutes later, Mitch was picking him up.
Billy’s was downtown, situated a few blocks over from the main sports hub, and they had to drive by the arena to get there. The building was dark and depressing and would sit empty for the next several months. It further dampened Brent’s already black mood.
“Forget about it, man,” Mitch said, catching where Brent’s gaze had gone. “It’s off-season now. We get one night, maybe two, to let loose and lick our wounds. Then it’s back to work for next season.”
Mitch held his fist out, and Brent tapped it with his own. He pulled into the parking lot near the bar, and the two men made their way up the street.
The line to get into Billy’s ran halfway down the block, but their NHL celebrity status had its advantages, and the bouncer let them in the moment he recognized them.
The bar was packed, and the vast majority of the patrons were women. They walked up to the bar and ordered beers, Mitch immediately striking up a conversation with the girl standing next to him.
Brent took his beer from the bartender and turned to survey the room. The music cut off abruptly, feedback whining through the speaker system as a man stepped up onto the stage that was set up in the corner.
“Hello, hello! Good evening!” he said into the microphone. “Are we having a good time at Billy’s Ladies’ Night?!”
Cheers went up from the crowd.
