Page 74 of For Crosby

“You son of a bitch.” I launched myself at him, shoving him as hard as I could into the boards.

He bounced off them. “Careful, Parks,” he warned as he righted himself on his skates.

“Crosby!” Coach grabbed the front of my jersey while his assistants held Jeremy back from me. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

I yanked free from him. “Ask him.”

Coach glared at me. “I asked you.”

My eyes shot away, my anger and pain at a breaking point.

“Scout or no scout,” Coach growled. “You’re not starting.”

I didn’t even care. I took off toward the locker room, needing to do something to ease the fucking pain, but Coach grabbed my arm. “Bench,” he ordered.

At that point, tears pooled in my eyes as fire had overtaken my lower half. I wanted nothing more than to prove I could handle anything thrown at me, but I couldn’t handle this. This was fucking torture.

I dropped down onto the bench hating that Jeremy was getting exactly what he wanted.

My chance at the pros was slipping away with every second I sat there. A sex tape was seconds away from going viral. And my dick was likely to shrivel up and fall off.

My team took the ice, and the game began. I glanced over at Sabrina who shrugged her confusion and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. Nothing about it was okay. My body was on fucking fire. I could barely even sit still.

A few minutes in, our opponents called a time out and Coach ordered me onto the ice. I hopped up and skated out. Every move burned like a motherfucker. Pain throbbed in my dick. A heat I’d never felt before had spread down to my legs. I could barely see through my glazed eyes as the puck dropped. I felt like I was seeing underwater. I couldn’t follow the puck. I could barely hear a sound. The pain was too great. I moved around the ice, hoping the puck magically found its way to my stick. It didn’t. I wasn’t even in position to make a shot if it had. At some point, a whistle blew, and Coach beckoned me off the ice.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he screamed in my face.

“Icy hot on my dick.”

His eyes flared. “Jeremy?”

I shrugged, which just made him angrier.

“Go,” he pointed toward the locker room. “I’ll deal with you later.”

I took off for the locker room, not glancing back at my team, Sabrina, or the crowd where a scout who held the key to my future sat somewhere wondering why the hell he’d even shown up.

Once I reached the locker room, I stripped down and practically ran into the showers. The water couldn’t have done much worse than the pain I was feeling. If anything, the soap might’ve helped slightly. I scrubbed as much of the stuff off as I could, but it had absorbed itself into my skin. And even if I did feel well enough to go back out there, my cup was covered in the stuff.

“Crosby?” Sabrina called.

I stepped out of the showers with a towel wrapped around my hips, my dick still pulsing. “What are you doing in here?”

The pain in her eyes mirrored the pain in my body. “What’d they do to you?”

“Jeremy,” I explained as I sat down on the wooden bench. “Put hot gel inside my cup—or at least had someone do it.”

She clasped her hand over her mouth and dropped down beside me. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve never felt pain like this in my entire life.” I lowered my head, letting my wet hair block out the sight of her beside me.

“Are you okay now? Can you go back out there?”

I shook my head. “It’s too late.”

“Too late? You’ve got a scout here to see you play.”

---