Page 73 of Theirs

Camila: God no, I thought we agreed that was weird or are we team cock cages now?

Me: I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Luke in one lol

“Here you go,” the Bartender said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“That’s all, thank you.” I smiled, looking back at my phone.

Luke: No

Luke: Hell no.

Luke: Not gonna happen.

Camila: Come on, Luke, maybe we can order a few and you can model them for us.

Camila: A cock cage runway.

I laughed out loud, looking around, hoping no one had seen or heard me. It was unbecoming of a Mistress.

Me: That sounds like a lovely way to spend a Saturday evening. How soon can we do this?

Luke: I regret this agreement. I didn’t realize I would be coerced into a cock cage runway by my wife and Mistress.

I laughed again.

“I never thought I’d see you giggling at your phone like you were texting a boy you liked.”

I looked up ready to snap at them when I saw Hunter Riggs. It seemed tonight was a night of old friends and lovers. When Iwas a budding Mistress, we had slept together a few times and realized we did not work out, even though he was a switch. After that, we stayed friends even though he constantly moved around since he was a hockey player. It had been months since I had seen him.

“Look what the cat dragged out of the bag,” I smirked. “What brings you here?”

“I missed you,” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

I laughed. “You could have called and told me you had a game. I would have gone to see you.”

He shrugged his shoulders, wincing.

“What happened?” I touched his arm.

“I was body checked in Philly a few weeks ago, dislocated my shoulder,” he said, rolling his shoulder. “I’ve been benched till next week when I can get another scan to make sure it's alright.”

“Shit, are you alright? No concussion?” I looked him over.

“No, just my shoulder,” he said with a somber expression, looking down at the bar.

“Hey, what's wrong?” I grabbed his chin to look at me.

His honey-colored eyes looked defeated.

“I’m old, Genny,” he said, pulling away.

“If you're old, then I’m old too,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“You don’t look a day over thirty,” he said with a small smile.

“Damn right, I don’t,” I said, seeing our teasing wasn’t helping. “You're not old Hunty, what's been happening?”

“I’m probably going to get traded, again. I don’t think the Fireflies are going to renew my contract,” he said, biting his lip. “The last few years of my hockey career aren’t what I thought they would be.”

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