Page 32 of My Pucking Crush

And hates it.

I don’t dare ask what his stares mean. I’m his bodyguard. Even if he were into me, Max is off-limits.

“I’m fine. Go be with the kids. This means a lot to them.” I know this because my son loved hockey.

At his age it was all colors and heroes gliding up and down the shiny ice. Eli especially lit up when the scoreboard buzzed and honked. Fuck,that’sthe gnawing feeling I get each time I hear it.

Max has opened me up, chipped away at my walls. Living in the face of this attraction for him has exposed me to feelings I’d never had before. For any man.

STAMFORD WINS THE GAME, but the following night, loses against Aspen. Max broods like a spoiled brat, but I let him stew in the large penthouse where he keeps to one side of the place and me the other.

I need a mental break, but a message from Bronwin about the upcoming road trip hits my phone.

“Pack up, you’re traveling with Ryan to Houston and Kansas City.”

Fuuuuck.

SEVENTEEN

Max

Friday morning, I get up early, shower, and strut to my kitchen for a light protein breakfast. Gilda packed my bags like she usually does for this road trip. Two more suits, four dress shirts all pressed and wrapped in tissue, four ties, lots of underwear, jeans, casual button downs, T-shirts, sneakers, and slides.

The equipment team packs our gear. I literally just show up at the airport.

Fuck, I’m pampered.

We’re flying to Texas this morning for the Houston game. After Houston, we play Kansas City.

We didn’t win against Aspen last night, but losses are expected. Luckily, Aspen isn’t in our division, and the loss won’t affect our standing.

It still pissed me off.

I passedagainwhen the guys on the team decided to go to a strip club on the outskirts of Stamford to drown their sorrow in booze and pussy. The single guys need release, and strippers love giving hockey players lap dances in the private lounges.

They busted my chops urging me to go. Luca would have to go with me. Watch me get a lap dance and stand outside the door listening to a woman give me head.

I have mixed emotions over that.

The regular season is winding down, and once the playoffs start, all bets are off. Personal lives come to a grinding halt. It’s hard enough to focus on anything other than hockey in the regular season, which is long and grueling. The playoffs turn my life into a blackhole.

Hole...

I can’t stop thinking about Luca, all parts of him. I consider my thought last week of using him to get my head straight about what I feel for him. I convinced myself there’s nothing I can do about my feelings for men. I can’t act on the attraction. I’m well-known. I have a career and a brand to protect. I’m haunted with thoughts that my sexuality will get out. Then what?

No one knows.

Carter is dealing with the same dilemma. But he’s living half in and out of two worlds. I can’t risk a group of people knowing my secrets if I don’t want the world to know.

When Carter got called up, he told us all right away. I glanced around, hiding shock, waiting for that look of disgust in my teammates’ eyes, the same one I saw in my father’s. Not one guy did. And I’m so damn proud of this team.

I never catch Carter staring at anyone, he’s cool and professional. He’s been a Crusher for two years, so why hasn’t he figuredmeout?

Or has he? Does he know I’m living with torturous worry day in and day out?

Damn, that makes him even cooler for not forcing me to open up, but it also pisses me off that he hasn’t tried to help me.

Wearing my usual Tom Ford suit for the plane ride, I catch my reflection in my kitchen’s wall oven. It’s like I’m seeing myself for the first time. My set jaw, flat lips, my girth. Maybe I’m not approachable.

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