Page 78 of Breakneck Hockey

“Don’t say whatever stupid shit you’re about to say. Just go the fuck to sleep. I’ve had it up to my tits with your bullshit, Sutter.”

“Then why are you—mmph.”

He shoves fingers into my mouth. “No talking. Sleeping only, dickface.”

I don’t get him. I don’t get myself when I’m around him. I’m relieved he’s not asking me a bunch of questions, but I have a few. Was I screaming in my sleep? What did he hear me say? Isn’t he the least bit curious? Alderchuck was totally the “why is the sky blue” kid, pestering adults with every question that came to his little brain. It’s got to be killing him. Or maybe he doesn’t actually give a fuck about me.

Then why are we … does this count as cuddling?

Pulling his hand from my mouth, I kiss his bruised and taped knuckles. I rest my chin atop his head. I watch him until his breathing smooths into the soft cadence of dreamland. I wish I could drift off as quickly as he did, but after that fucking nightmare, I’m not sure I want to close my eyes ever again.

Holding him like this makes me feel things. Makes my heart threaten to open the locks I secured it with forever ago and pull him inside. Oh, fucking, God. I’m not doing that. Not in a million fucking years.

Imagine what that would be like? Loving Casey Alderchuck. All it took was fucking him one time—one—and I became a feral obsessive creature with a singular thought: Own Alderchuck. If I let my heart latch onto him that would be a disaster. I already burn for him, if my heart got involved, I’d perish for him.

Adding him to the list of people I live in constant fear of losing would ruin me. Yeah, not happening. I add a mental layer of cement around my locked heart. Casey’s not getting in there now no matter which part of me tries to conspire against me.

I force my eyes shut and go the fuck to sleep.

Chapter 14

#Sutterchuck

Casey

Idon’t make a habit of texting Sutter, but when I do it’s because people have made memes about us.

Naked.

And all this before breakfast. I’m in the kitchenette of yet another hotel room, working on getting coffee made. We’re on the road, but the rain’s followed us. It rages against the windowpane, beating a rockstar staccato, the backdrop of dull gray just beyond the glass. I have my phone out, and I type to Sutter in between popping a coffee pod into the Nespresso machine and placing my cup underneath. This morning’s gonna call for maximum caffeination. Call it a hunch.

Me

Did you see this?

Top Dog

That is so not your ass. Or mine. Mine is WAY nicer than that. Yours is hairier.

Me

Not the point. This is exactly what our team managers didn’t want.

I’m gonna be in shit. I accept that fact.

Me

What do we do about this?

Top Dog

There’s no ‘we’, Alderchuck. Good luck with that.

Fucking douchebag. After I coddled that motherfucker the other night. Well, in my Casey kind of way.

Me

Not according to @ishipsutterchuck69. We have a fucking ship name, dude. Also a fan club.

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