AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Definitely looks like it.” I laugh, leaning my forearm against Paul’s back. Paul lifts an eyebrow at me, then gets back to changing.
Carpenter laughs at the mess that is Jeremy’s skin and claps him on the shoulder, then turns to Preston. “Perhaps you should take it easy the night before a game, huh?”
Preston just lifts his uninjured shoulder but says nothing. Since Preston dislocated his shoulder last weekend, he’s not playing for a while, but he’s still here to fuck with everyone.
“Make sure the reporters still stalking around outside don’t see them, or you’ll have to explain how you got them.” Carp shakes his head and heads back to his cubby to finish getting ready.
Preston’s dad being a world-known surgeon with skeletons—and sexual assault charges—in his closet has created a tizzy in the media. Luckily, the school isn’t interested in them harassing students, so most get kicked off campus pretty quick.
I finish getting dressed and grab a roll of tape and my hockey sticks. Everyone has three sticks for the game, since breaking them is common. Everyone is particular about how the tape is applied, so we all do it ourselves, not trusting anyone else to do it right. Since we’ve all been playing since we were kids, it’s pretty quick, and we have multiple rolls of tape circulating the room.
Someone stands over me as I finish wrapping my last one. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Paul. I’m the dumbass, Jeremy is the good boy, and Paul is the one that keeps me out of trouble. Usually. He has some type-A personality quirks that keep my ass on time unless I can manage to distract him with what I lovingly call a side quest. Aka food.
He runs his hand over my hair and walks away. After all the years of playing, there’s still anxiety before a game. You never know how it’s going to go, who will get hurt, which team will be hungrier for the win. Paul knows physical touch helps calm me, so he always makes sure to do something before we start warmups.
We’ve gotten comments over the years from players about us fucking. Sports are notorious for being homophobic and full of toxic masculinity, so most of us that are part of the alphabet mafia tend to keep it pretty quiet. I’m bi, and only a handful of people know. Not because I’m embarrassed or ashamed; I just don’t want to deal with the bullshit in the locker room.
Once all the sticks are ready for the game and stored, we drop off our skates to be sharpened, and we head to the gym for off-the-ice warmups. Some guys have music playing in their ears, others are joking around or trash talking. I tell jokes and make an ass out of myself. We all have what works for us.
“Ten minutes, boys!” Coach yells, and we finish what we’re doing, then head out to the hallway that leads to the rink.
My skates hit the ice for warmups, and the rush of cold air on my cheeks has me smiling. This feeling right here is my addiction. It’s the calm before the storm. That adrenaline rush and butterflies in your stomach. It’s almost time. It’s the last few moments before we have to battle another twenty men for the win. When my skates hit the ice, my heart soars. There’s nothing out here but teamwork, blood, and victory.
The ice will be resurfaced after warmups, and the stands will be full when the game starts. We’re on our home turf, so the cheers will be deafening, the lights bright on the ice, and the fight for victory will begin.
“Everyone take a piss, let’s go,” Coach announces from the doorway. “And if you need to shit, better do it now or shit your pants on the ice.”
In shifts, we all go to the bathroom since there is nothing worse than playing while prairie dogging.
The last guys finish up, and we’re told to get our sticks and head to the hallway. The commentators are announcing the schools, and the crowd roars to life. Paul and Jeremy turn, and we slap our sticks together before hustling down the shoot and onto the ice.
My blades hit the ice, and I let out a loud, “Ca-caw!” which makes Jeremy and Paul chuckle.
I love the rush of the game. The way a well-gelled team moves, anticipating their teammates thoughts, and being ready—it’s beautiful. Hockey is such a physical game, we leave the arena bruised and sometimes bloody, with aches and pains from being thrown into the boards or a fight. I love it. You have to be hungry for that win, or you’re not going to get it. It’s a brutal fight to the death out here, and it hums in my blood.
Out here, the game moves fast. You can’t take your mind off it for a second. The puck moves across the ice, players fight for control, and lines switch out quickly. Your entire mind must be focused on what’s in front you, the next move, looking for an opening, or you’ll miss everything.
This game is fun. Maine is a good team, and we have to work for our win. Albrooke, Johnson, and I are back on the ice together, anticipating each other’s next move like we never spent any time apart. It’s perfect. I get lost in the hum of the crowd and sounds of skates and sticks on the ice. Adrenaline courses through me, and my love for the sport lights me up inside.
By the end of the game, we’re exhausted but happy. We won, and that’s what matters. And tomorrow we’ll get up and do it all over again. The locker room is rowdy with the boys celebrating. A smile is plastered on my face as we strip down and talk about the highlights of the game.
Until Jeremy strips out of his gear and I see Preston pause at his damage to my friend’s skin. It’s such a clear sign that Jeremy and I were not right for each other, and that’s fine. It was fun and convenient while it lasted. When they first got started, I thought Preston was abusing Jeremy. Not in a fun, sexy way. Our arrangement was never permanent, and yeah, I struggled to share him with someone else. He’s one of my best friends, and I’m used to having complete access to him, but I want my dude to be happy.
Jeremy’s naked ass walks past me toward the shower, and with my eyes locked with Preston’s, I slap Jeremy’s ass. Preston tenses and steps toward me. Jeremy spins and punches me in the arm, and I run toward the showers still with some of my clothes on just to get away from Preston. But I’m laughing.
“You know he’s going to snap one day and take your head off, right?” Jeremy says before he steps under the shower.
“Yeah, but it’ll probably be worth it.”
Paul gives me ayou’re so dumblook and leaves the showers to get dressed. Jeremy and I do a quick scrub down, and when I turn toward the doorway, Preston is leaning against the wall watching. Probably making sure I don’t touch Jeremy. A smile turns up the corner of my lips, but Jeremy sees it and says, “Don’t even think about it.”
Paul is dressed and waiting for me when I get back to my cubby. I guess I took longer than I thought. He looks sexy as fuck in his suit and tie. There’s an air to him that makes it hard for me not to stare. For some reason, I can picture him watching me with hunger in his eyes, not ashamed for anyone to see. What I wouldn’t give for someone to claim me publicly. I’m tired of being a dirty secret. Like who I stick my dick in is shameful. It’s bullshit.
He commands the room in that damn outfit, and it’s a mind fuck. He’s my friend, and at this point, I’m scared he’s going to drop me too. He knows me better than most and lets me drop the mask to be my true self.
I pull on my own suit and fall back into the character everyone expects from me. With a quick movement, I smack Paul’s stomach with the back of my hand and wag my eyebrows at him.
“I’m hungry. Feed me.”
