Page 37 of Unlovable Player

When I thought about guys before, I never really had a face to put to those fantasies, and they were always vague. Detached.

But I fucking know his face. I know what his body looks like, what itfeelslike. And I can’t stop thinking about it.

I strip out of the jeans and shirt I wore for dinner at Coach’s house and slip into bed, trying to relax.

Gray turning the TV on loud and shouting through a headset while he playsCall of Dutyshould ruin the mood, but it’s in my head now, so I get in the shower, Gray ignoring me while he zeroes in on some soldiers or whatever the fuck you do in that game.

Letting the water run over me, I let my mind wander, telling myself it’s just a fantasy as I imagine Yale in the shower with me, pressed against the tiles with my cock in his hand as I come.

When I getto the locker room the next day, Sebastian’s already at his cubby, his shirt off. I tell myself his body isn’t any different from the other guys I’ve undressed around for years, but I can’t pretend anymore, not to myself.

He looks up and I look away.

After the game in Lowell against UMass, they come to us Monday, which means the weekend’s a bust. But honestly, I’d rather spend the weekend playing hockey, or prepping for a game, than thinking about anything else.

Since my little speech, the guys are all doing a good job at pretending they don’t hate Sebastian’s guts. But the stilted, overly-polite words of encouragement during drills doesn’t fool me, and I’m sure it doesn’t fool him either.

Usually, we go eat after practise, but a few of the guys make excuses about having classes I know they don’t have, or catching up on work they probably don’t care about and we splinter off.

Sebastian walks towards his car and I’m torn about letting him go or calling him back. I’m his captain, and kissing him was bad enough, but ignoring him now because of it? Not cool.

“Hey Seb, wait up!”

He turns with a wry grin. “Seb?”

“What? Doesn’t anyone ever call you that?”

“My sisters maybe.”

“Too familiar?”

“No.” Are his cheeks getting pink? I never thought someone like him could be capable of blushing. My stomach knots.

“Wanna grab some food?”

“What? You don’t have an imaginary class you have to get to?”

“They’ll pull their heads out of their asses eventually.”

He laughs. “That’s not a pretty visual.”

“No.”

“Hop in, I’ll drive us wherever you want to go.”

I hesitate before getting in his car. That enclosed space. It’s gonna smell like his aftershave. His bag of sweaty clothes.

The car smells like new leather and pine cones. Not like him at all. Thank fuck.

“Same playlist?” I ask when a song I don’t recognize starts to play.

“No, actually this one’s calledneck kisses, coffee dates and midnight car rides.”

He clears his throat and I look out of the window. “Oh. Do you come up with these names?”

“Yep, I’m creative as well as sporty.”

My lips turn up on one side, but luckily I have time to roll my eyes before he looks at me.

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