Page 4 of Crossed Sticks

He’d raise his legs in the air, and what could I do but stick my dick up his ass and go to town? It would feel great and terrible at the same time. I needed a man to hold me down and give it to me hard, not wantmeto fuckhim. Last year, the hunger had gotten so bad I couldn’t go into the team shower without wondering which guy I could pay to push me into a corner and rail me until I was cross-eyed. Then I’d remember they were all goddamn married.

Well, notall. Pierre Gagné, a defenseman, was hot as hell. He was also presumably straight, but when he pinged on my gaydar a few times, I tried to get closer to him. After months of gathering my courage, I finally got up the nerve to ask him out. Just my luck—right before I said the words, he told me he was in a relationship with another man. Fuck my life.

I was a bottom who was always forced to be on top, and I needed to get fucked so much it was driving me nuts. I was desperate for it, and Luca would be the perfect man to give mewhat I needed. I shuddered when I imagined him behind me, ramming into me, giving me what I’d craved for so long. It might turn out to be the best day of my life.

Despite my fantasies, my hesitation to text him had grown into fear. Could someone I met in a bar—in the men’s room, no less—really be as incredible as I imagined? And if he was, why would he be interested in me? As the days went by and he didn’t message me either, I figured the moment had passed and I should leave him alone.

So why was he texting now? His message was different from other “let’s fuck” texts I’d received in the past, and I wondered what he meant by one line: “Let’s meet in the light of day and see if it happens again.” Did “it” mean a platonic connection, or an irresistible urge to jump into bed? Maybe both?

Placing my phone back on the table, I sat down and considered Luca’s physical effect on me. I’d wanted him so much I lost all my inhibitions. If he’d said, “Let’s go fuck in a stall,” I’d have been all in. Hell, another minute of standing there, and I might have suggested it myself.

I hated being so screwed up inside. I longed for a genuine relationship, the kind that went beyond a string of fucks followed by “see you when I see you.” But as much as I wanted a real romance, it couldn’t be. Years of rejection had made me build a wall around my heart, and I wasn’t about to fall for someone and set myself up for more hurt when he moved on. “I’m not a one-man guy,” “You’re not the kind of man to settle down with,” and “I’ve got a bad history with jocks”—I’d heard all the excuses too many times.

But a night spent with Luca would be a lot better than sleeping alone. Hookups had kept me sane for years, so why not fuck the hottest guy I’d met in a long time? There was always a possibility it could lead to a friends-with-benefitsarrangement, and I’d be down for that. Sex and friendship plus no commitment would equal an awesome summer.

Luca’s message put a whole new light on things. If I wanted to see him, all I had to do was respond. My stomach growled, so I made breakfast while I considered my options. In the middle of scrambling eggs, I realized I was being a complete idiot. What the fuck was I thinking? Sex with Luca would be an event to remember, and whether it led to anything else or not, I was too horny to pass it up. I’d text him later.

After playingElden Ring, choosing blinds for my windows, and enjoying a long shower, I went out to explore the neighborhood. My building was in an older part of the city that used to be heavily industrial, but now it was a vibrant mix of apartments, condos, and local businesses. Since I was new to the area, I wanted to get the lay of the land.

There weren’t many people out on a Tuesday afternoon, but I was excited by the diversity I saw. Unlike D.C., where high rents meant downtown living was for those with money, Buffalo offered a refreshing mix. Whereas my former neighbors were doctors and lawyers, and we were surrounded by upscale stores, it was different here. The quirky shops and friendly workers were refreshing, and each store offered something unique. From organic kale chips to recreational cannabis, I could find it all within a short walk.

Only one person stopped me on the street, a guy about my age with killer tats. “Sorry to bother you, man, but aren’t you Harper Blanton, the guy who just got traded to the Warriors?”

He must have been a hockey fan to recognize me in my old T-shirt, baggy shorts, and weathered baseball cap, so I smiled. “Yes, I’m Harper. How’s it going?”

Breaking into a wide grin, he held up his fist for a bump. “Abel Kahn. It’s an honor. You’re a sick player, dude. The Cudas are my favorite team after the Warriors, so I watch as many of their games as I can. They were stupid for not letting you play more.”

“Thanks. The Cudas have riches to spare, so I was lucky to get as much time on the ice as I did. I’m super excited to be here, though. Thanks for the great welcome.”

“Things will be different in Buffalo, dude. We need you. I’ll bet you get all the ice time you want and then some. Criswell might even put you on the first line since Ewing’s gone, and you’ll be breaking Ewing’s records in no time.”

Ford Ewing was a seventeen-year veteran who’d retired at the end of last season. Since he was destined for the Hall of Fame, Abel had paid me a tremendous compliment. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll work my ass off. Thanks for taking the time to say hi.”

He grinned again. “I’m not the only one who’s glad you’re here. We’ll be pulling for you, man.”

After we said goodbye, he went into a hardware store while I wiped sweat off my brow and cursed the heat. A honking horn made me look up, and I was relieved to see a coffee shop across the street. Since the humidity was killing me, Jitterbug Java offered exactly what I needed—caffeine for an energy boost, and iced coffee to cool me off.

A blast of cold air hit me as I pushed the door open, a relief after the weather outside. I breathed out a contented sigh as the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled my senses. The shop was small and intimate, with exposed brick walls and woodenaccents. Soft jazz played in the background, creating a relaxed atmosphere.

I scanned the menu board, and after chatting with the barista while he whipped up my iced midnight blend frappé, I carried the drink around a corner to the seating area. Only one customer was there, and my heart took off for the races as soon as I saw him. Powerful arms, tousled dark hair, and a snug white T-shirt straining against his broad shoulders were as intoxicating as the coffee in my hand.

When Luca raised his head, our eyes locked into an electrifying connection. I licked my lips, and his tentative smile built into a grin. “Harper?”

My hands trembled so much I had to use both of them to steady my cup. Was I ready to face him? Would he be angry because I hadn’t replied to his message yet? Surely he’d understand I’d been out getting to know the neighborhood since I was new here. He jumped up, and I realized I was already smiling.

Pointing at an empty chair across from him, he asked, “Join me?”

Playing it cool was overrated, so I hurried across the room and set my coffee on the table. “Hi, Luca.”

“I’m glad to see you,” he said.

His grin was breathtaking, but I somehow resisted the urge to touch him. “Great seeing you, too.”

We sat down and stared at each other. After a moment, he tilted his head. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. I was out for a walk, and this looked like a good place to escape the heat.”

“You live nearby?”

---