Page 29 of Dirty Pucker

I walk over to the team bench during the last ten minutes of practice. The guys are taking shots at Blomdahl.

I lean against the edge of the bench and hold up my phone to film. I haven’t posted much practice footage on the Bashers’ social media accounts, so I want to film some today.

Theo whips the puck at Blomdahl, who catches it in his glove. Theo shakes his head in disappointment as he skates off. Next, Xander shoots the puck toward the top part of the net, but Blomdahl manages to block it with his stick.

A few more players line up to take their turn, but Blomdahl manages to keep all of the pucks out of the net.

I mouth a quiet, “Wow,” to myself as I film. Blomdahl is a brick wall. In the short time I’ve been working for the Bashers, I’ve been trying to learn as much as I can about the sport and the players on the team.

Blomdahl is one of the top goalies in the league, with an incredible save percentage and stats. He’s been on a hot streak the past few games too. He’s had two shutouts over the past four games.

I zoom in on him as he blocks shot after shot. I’ll make a TikTok about him tomorrow.

I watch as Del skates up to him with the puck. He swings his stick back, gearing up to shoot. Blomdahl dives forward, but atthat same second, Del pulls back and switches direction, faking him out. Del hits the puck and it goes flying past Blomdahl’s shoulder, landing at the back of the net.

I stop filming and glance over to where the coaches are standing off to the side, observing the players. Coach Porter glances over at the goalie coach, who shrugs. Porter says something to him before looking back at the players.

“Nice shot, Richards,” he says.

Del takes off his helmet and says, “Thanks.” His chest rises as he takes a breath. When he shakes his head, his messy chocolate-brown hair falls into his face.

The movement triggers something inside of me…my brain instantly goes somewhere else…somewhere filthy.

I picture Del on top of me, looking just like he does now: cheeks flushed, breathing hard, his hair sweaty and messy, his hips pressed against mine…

I picture those soulful mahogany eyes gazing down at me. I picture his mouth hooking up in a crooked smile as he wraps his hands around my wrists and pins me against the bed…

I shake my head, and the visual disappears. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. He’s at practice, working his ass off.

I quietly scold myself for having such a dirty thought about Del. He’s my friend. Yeah, I’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to mentally defile him.

Coach Porter blows the whistle, signaling the end of practice. As he talks with the players, I sit on the bench and edit some clips from today’s practice for TikTok.

“That was a solid showing today, gentlemen. Nice work. There’s still a lot we need to improve on though,” Coach Porter says.

He goes on about a few things he wants them to focus on.

“Don’t forget, I’m hosting a barbecue at my place this weekend for the entire team and team staff and their families,” he says. “We’ve got a tough run-up to the playoffs. We’ll be working our tails off these next few weeks, and you should relax before all that. So come, bring your partners and kids and families, and just focus on having a good time.”

He dismisses them and they all start heading toward the tunnel back to the locker room.

I walk up to them as they exit the ice.

“Wait. I’ve got an important question to ask you all before you leave,” I say as they come up to me in a line.

They all look at me as I hold up my phone and hit record. “Fans are dying to know what each of you prefers: blondes or brunettes?”

Half the guys chuckle. The others are smiling and shaking their heads.

“This social media stuff is serious business, huh?” Blomdahl says.

“Very serious,” I say.

I film their answers as they skate past me.

“Blonde.”

“Blonde.”

---