Page 32 of The Stud

A complete and total playoff on the line so the league better not catch you doing shitlie.

I’m not good.

I’mrarelygood around him when we’re alone.

When he’s this…open.

And honest.

Andreal.

When he’s everything except what the media paints him to be.

“Is my answer acceptable?” He begins to shuck off his blue jacket, revealing how tight his dress shirt is on his chest. “May we play now?”

The faintest whimper treacherously escapes leaving me no choice but to hastily scramble words after it. “Yeah.” Clearing away the possibility for an encore noise is instantly done. “Sure.” I guide my now unsteady hand over to end the recording. “Whatever.”

Tanner inquisitively tilts his head ever so slightly to the side at the same time he asks, “And you’recertainyou’re alright?”

“Right as rainskies.”

Aside from the fact my head is spinning and whirling and twirling and I know it’snotfrom the vertigo brought on by my condition.

Relocating my accessories to the nearby bar counter, ditching my heels, and retrieving my own cue are all executed in much appreciated silence.

Having to endure his smooth voice and sexy accent and clean scent cologne so steadily has my mind fucking malfunctioning.

We’re talking flash him my titsjustto momentarily shut him up long enough for me to factory reset my brain.

Because itlogicallyknows better than to buy into his well-scripted bullshit.

And his Ken doll sparkling eyes.

And his always up to the best trouble grin.

There is no man on this planet I openly hate more than Tanner Frosky.

And no man I hate myself for not really hating as much as I probably should.

“Stripes,” Tanner declares while positioning himself to take the breaking shot. “I like that it reminds me ofstrips.”

“You really are a simple-minded fuck.”

Loud laughs barely precede the sound of the balls banging into each other. “There are worse things.”

“And there arebetterthings.”

“Is there anything better than hockey to you?”

“Sports wise?”

He nods while making his way around the table towards me for a better angle.

“No.”

“What’s second?”

“Doesn’t exist.”

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