Page 19 of Scoring Zone
“He’s a dramatic asshole. And not the good kind,” Lucky jokes. “Hey.” He smashes his palms on each side of my face. “He’s fine. The bastard’s faking, hoping to get you ejected.”
“There’s blood.” I point.
“It’s yours,” Drake says, and it sounds like he’s refraining from calling me stupid.
I glance down at my hands, and my knuckles are bleeding. The darkness is so close to the surface. I let it out by mistake, and an innocent guy paid the consequences. This is what I’m protecting Grayson from—my random violence.
Drake wordlessly enters the penalty box to serve my time while Gray cleans me up. “There’s no blood on him. It’s on the ice from when you put your hand down for balance.”
I glance around for the EMTs, but play has already restarted. “They took him out already?” My head is stuck on how badly he’s injured.
Gray looks confused. “He’s in the sin bin with Drake. He’s got extra time for flopping.”
What they were trying to tell me finally sinks in. The guy’s fine. It’s another day at the office.
“This is going to sting.”
He’s so gentle as he uses the disinfectant on my ragged skin. I’m used to the sting but inhale sharply. He’s so close, and I smell terrible. I’ve never cared about smelling bad around Gray before.
His fingers caress mine as he binds them with tape to stop the bleeding. He’s working slowly, as if we’re not in a game and I won’t have to play in a couple of minutes. He’s touching me as if I’m the most important thing to him.
“Hurry up,” I snap, unable to tolerate his caring touch. I don’t deserve him and the way he forgave me for the past. I’ve done nothing but hurt him throughout our friendship.
I don’t even remember injuring my knuckles. Even if the guy flopped, he was saved by the rules of the game and our teammates pulling us apart.
No one would be there to save Grayson if I lost control with him.
I’d rather take the blame for damaging our friendship than see the marks I left on him.
I’d rather he hate me than to physically hurt him.
I’d rather die than harm him.
Seeing Grayson fake normalcy every day brings a heaviness to the air and an unseen physical barrier between us so large I can’t get around it.
Staying at the team hotel before our home game is a break from that. It’s one more thing for me to wallow in guilt over. My alarm will go off soon for the team’s breakfast. I shut my eyes, hoping to relax. This hotel is my second home, and I’m grateful it has firm mattresses and soft sheets. But there’s not a hint of menthol or coconut oil, so it can’t compare to home with Grayson.
For the past few days, we’ve texted and talked as if nothing is wrong. But everything is wrong. He won’t confess that my rejection hurt. I can’t stop leaving him notes, and I’m not sure if it’s for his benefit or mine. That’s a lie. It’s for me. Doing it confirms I’m selfish and I deserve the darkness that lurks inside me, waiting for the opportunity to cause harm. It has no conscience and no remorse.
Drake pulled me off the player before I could do any serious damage, but I would’ve if given the chance.
Tonight’s game will be a test of the team’s restraint. We’re playing Tampa, and our former teammate, Richardson, will be out for blood. Trading him was the best thing for our team, but he’s a hoser.
Benz loaned me a crystal for calm and clarity. He swears by their powers, and I need all the help I can get. I’ve given the teama speech about ignoring Richardson’s taunts and taking the high road. It would be very embarrassing to black out and lose my shit in this game.
I clutch the purple amethyst like a lifeline. Benz also gave me a leather band to wear the crystal around my neck. I’ll keep it in my pocket until game time and reevaluate then.
I’m always evaluating and reevaluating situations.
My mind wanders back to Grayson, and he steals all of my focus. The crystal heats in my hand, and it’s a pleasant sensation.
Clamping the lid on my attraction to Gray is the only viable solution.
We’ll get past this. We have to.
I’m going crazy keeping my distance. Part of me wishes our night together had never ended. That reality never set in, and we could live in a bubble of naked bliss. I’ve held myself back from physical touch, and the ache feeds my darkness. It’s hard to be in the same room because I crave his closeness and covet his hands on me again.
I press my palm into my growing cock. The thought of Gray’s strong fingers gripping me is enough to get me hard. I’m so pathetic.
