Page 33 of Good Pucking Luck

My cheeks heat. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” His brows pull together.

“Because it makes me feel like you’re making fun of me…or playing me…” The only guy who used to say things like that to me was Malcolm, and that was all a ploy for…I don’t even know what he expected to get out of it. Power, I guess. He used us all because he could. He’s a terrible person who got off on that.

“I don’t want to make you feel that way, so I’ll try not to say it, but just so you know, I’m not making fun of you. If I say something, I mean it. If someone else doesn’t see those things in you, then that’s because they’re fucking idiots.”

I bite my cheeks so I don’t smile.He’s not charming, he’s not charming, he’s not charming.

“Let’s sit down.” He closes the lid, and the two of us walk over to his outdoor chairs. “So…about today.”

“I didnotplan on doing that. I don’t know what happened. Maybe if you wore a shirt and didn’t look like… Okay, that sounds really gross and victim-blamey. Your clothes or lack thereof aren’t responsible for my actions. Something about you really gets to me. It’s like I don’t feel like me.”

I sense his frown, and when I look, yep, his lips are turned down. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

“It is! Contrary to what you seem to think, most people don’t want to sleep with me as much as you do. And I’m usually awkward—well, more awkward than I am with you. But even from that first night and how I told you I want to have all the sex and then ravished you in the office of my hotel, I’m like…” The wordconfidentlingers on my tongue, but that’s not totally true, and it’s embarrassing. Am I more confident or just honest? “I feel like I can follow my instincts.” Instincts I didn’t even know I had.

He stares at me, this intense look in his blue eyes that I can’t really read. I wait for him to reply with a joke or tell me I’m an idiot, to make fun of me or just make me feel like shit about myself because Malcolm used to do that. How did I not realize that in the short time we’d been together, he made me feel bad about myself? I’ve never been the most confident or happy guy, but it was worse with him, and I didn’t even see it.

“You’re not talking,” I finally say.

“I’m not sure how to respond. That may be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m serious.”

No way that’s true. “Anyway, I’m probably going to regret telling you this, but you make me feel sexy, and despite knowing it’s totally in your head, the whole thing with you thinking I have magic cum makes me feel good about myself too. You opened the door looking like that”—I motion up and down his body—“and all those feelings combusted and I threw myself at you.”

He grins.

“Oh my God. Stop.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re feeling very proud of yourself.”

“Or proud of both of us, or like maybe this is perfect. First, we make each other feel good. You want to experience no-strings-attached sex and follow these feral sex instincts you have with me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard.” I try not to smile, and he continues. “Second, you’re my good-luck charm, so I was thinking we could give each other six months? We fuck like rabbits, I win the Stanley Cup, you have the best sex of your life and hone your craft so after me you can go on to blow other men’s minds…men and women?”

“Just men.”

“Okay, just men. It’s really the best of both worlds for both of us.”

His words settle in, understanding dawning. “You want to have sex with me for six months? That’s a relationship, and I’mneverdoing that again.”

“No, it’s not. It’s only a relationship if we allow it to be. We go into this knowing it’s a sexual proposition with a side of friendship—because I’m going to insist on the friendship. Neither of us wants a relationship. We agree that this ends after I win the Stanley Cup.”

“What if you don’t win?”

His mouth drops open. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

It’s impossible to hold back my laugh. “You actually think if we have sex, you won’t lose a game for six months?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. I’m not that big of an idiot but I do believe you helpmeplay better. And the better I play, the more chance we have of winning more games. Is it completely foolproof? No, but you put the odds in my favor.”

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