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They’d go to a gay bar. Zee would choose someone for him. Tell him how to get fucked. And Ishir would have to find it within himself to go and do it.
The thought shouldn’t make anxiety curdle in his gut. The truth was, though, Ishir wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go through with it.
If he could stand the touch of any Alpha that wasn’t Zee.
There was no way to avoid him after the game, though. Another win, another happy locker room. Even answering questions from the press was relatively painless.
“Everything has been clicking since Zee came back. We should be able to win without him—we can’t depend on any one guy. We’re a team. But I know I’m better with him, and I feel like the rest of the team would say the same thing,” Ishir admitted truthfully. He could feel the burn of Zee’s gaze on the side of his face but managed to get through the rest of the presser without looking his way.
Bergy put an arm over his shoulders as soon as Ishir was let go, stinking of Alpha and sweat. “What happened to me being your favourite?”
Ishir snorted. “You’re still my number one,” he said sweetly.
“Oh, yeah. Sure. I don’t see you pumping my tires likethat.”
Ishir put on a falsetto. “Oh, Bergy, I’m your number one fan. You’re my favouritest defenceman in the whole wide world. Will you give me your autograph?”
Bergy laughed, tightening his hold on Ishir. “Yeah? Where should I sign?”
Ishir lifted his undershirt and slapped his abs, right where a trail of hair led into his pants. “Right here, baby.”
Bergy clenched his arms, dragging Ishir into a headlock and pinching his nipple.
Ishir yelped, slugging Bergy’s stomach until he was let go. “Animal,” he panted.
“That was your prize for that goal.”
“Wow, thanks. I’m honoured.” Only as Ishir shoved him away did he notice Zee was still staring at him, eyes narrowed and dark.
The look made something hot and guilty clench in his belly. He flickered his eyes away, not wanting to be burned by the intensity of Zee’s attention.
The guys didn’t even protest when Ishir and Zee went off on their own afterwards, used to them celebrating together every time Ishir scored a goal. Even Bergy kept his mouth shut, although the knowing arch of his eyebrow said enough.
Ishir didn’t want to think about what Bergy thought he knew.
“So,” Ishir mumbled as he fiddled with his phone, opening the Lyft app. “I found a place we can go.” He hadn’t been able to withstand the uncertainty of what bar Zee would choose, of walking into another unknown.
Zee’s face was eerily blank. “What?”
“I know you normally pick the bar, but I have a place,” Ishir clarified.
“Oh. Right.” Zee turned away, expression hidden. “Sure.”
Something was wrong. “I mean, you can choose if you want to.”
“Nah, you’re good. Wherever you like is fine.”
Ishir chewed on the inside of his cheek, but he had nothing else to add to that.
It was almost midnight by the time they arrived at their destination.Boa, the front of the place proclaimed in glowing neon. The interior was just as flashy, decorated in pinks and greens, the snake-theme heavy.
“I thought it meant boa like a feather boa,” Ishir mused as they stepped into the bar. The music was thrumming heavily, but at least he could hear himself speak.
“I think they’re going for the ‘my anaconda don’t’ vibe,” Zee joked.
Ishir snorted, relieved that his friend had been knocked out of the surly mood he’d been in during the ride there. “We should open an ass-theme bar after we retire.”
“Oh, yeah. The doors and windows can be shaped like giant assholes.”
