Page 107 of The Stud

Some totally unfranchised approved concoction of the two.

Photos are snapped left and right yet each one he leans out of.

Almost like he doesn’t want to remember being “single”.

Like he doesn’t want to make any sort of headline about being “alone”.

Over the past couple of months, when the pressdoesreport about him, it’s been more stats and game related – with a few exceptions.

I guess it helps that most of our dates are behind closed doors or doing random shit he would never be recognized doing such as attending a cycle ball match.

Yeah.

That’s a really random sport and no matter how much he begs I’m not on board with us joining a recreational team over the summer.

We continue to close the gap as other females not permitted in the section desperately vie for the boys’ attention, something Wahl, Potato, and Payne – who had to be called up due to Peck’s injury – can’t seem to get enough of.

The instant Cap spots Joey, he springs to his feet on a grumbled, “Okonchatel’no.”

“Don’t say finally,” she lovingly sasses while making her way around the barricade. “I wasn’t gonethatlong.”

“Da.” The grin he cocks is almost boyish. “Navsegda.”

“Forever. Really?” Her girly giggles ignite my own. “You sound like our littleprintsessa…”

Cap’s giant frame blocks me from Tanner’s vision but doesn’t shield me from the brunette thirst trap trying to weasel her way into his space. “You should have someone to kiss at midnight, dontcha think?”

He casually leans towards her, light tan sweater covered forearms resting on his light gray pants. “I agree.”

Dread darts down to my stomach like a pissed off ref dropping the puck.

“And Idohave someone.”

Relief wins the faceoff.

“I simply have to wait until I arrive home to receive my midnight kisspost-midnight.”

“Or…” sliding slightly over to be seen summons his stare, “maybe you don’t.”

Tanner’s jaw instantly drops in tandem with his whole body damn near melting to his knees.

“Surprise!” Joey gleefully interjects at the same time she curls into Cap’s hold. “Your Slayer has arrived.”

Alarm should overwhelm his expression.

Worry.

Dismay.

Something…anything…in that category should be free skating, yet all that can be seen is gratitude.

Pure.

Unadulterated.

Gratitude.

Tanner shifts his stare over to Cap who merely extends his balled fist and grunts, “Ferda.”

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