Page 1 of Trade Deadline

One

Blaine

The irritating soundof my phone vibrating on my nightstand sounds like a siren in my otherwise silent room, causing me to bolt up in a delirious haze. Who the fuck would be calling me at this hour? The sun isn’t even up yet.

I lean over, stifling a groan, and aimlessly slap my hand against my phone, hoping that if I hit it hard enough, it’ll make the noise stop.

Seconds later, my wish is granted, and the room drops into a peaceful silence.

“Mm, thank fuck,” I mumble as I lay back down.

Pulling the covers up over my head, I let out a happy sigh and nuzzle my face into the pillow. It’s too early. I have at least another hour until I need to get up for morning skate, so it’s time to get cozy again. Whoever it is can wait.

Maybe I can get back to that dream I was having where this gorgeous guy was about to go to town on my dick.

Wishful thinking, though, because the annoying sound starts up again.

“For fuck’s sake!”

I grab my phone and quickly sit up, staring at the screen, when I see Hayden’s name displayed on the caller ID.

My agent is calling at six thirty in the fucking morning.

Nothing good comes with your agent calling at six thirty in the morning.

My heart beats like a crazy drummer in my chest as I swipe on the screen to accept his call and raise my phone to my ear.

“Hello?” My voice comes out croaky. I clear my throat and try again. “Hayden?”

“At least one of us has had some sleep.” Hayden grumbles.

“Well, good morning to you too.” I scoff, stretching my arm above my head.

He wakes me up at this time and doesn’t even have the decency to say hello? Christ.

“Fucking hell, Blaine! Do you realize what kinda shit you’re in? Do you seriously not give a single fucking fuck?”

“Whoa, that was a lot of fucks for this time of the day.” I rub my eyes with the heel of my palm. “What have I done?” comes out in a garbled yawn.

Scooting up the bed, I lean back against the headboard, bringing the comforter with me.

“Do you recall the night you spent with three puck bunnies?”

I grin at the memory. “Mm, yeah, I do. Quite the wild night, that was.”

It’s not often I get involved in a tryst of multiples, but I couldn’t turn down those three beauties the other night. It was like a trio of decadent desserts.

One light, one dark, one cherry.

The way their bodies moved on the dance floor, their sexy clothes teasing me about what was beneath under the flashing lights of the club. All luscious curves and dangerous smiles.

“Blaine!” he shouts, pulling me out of my wayward thoughts. I pull the phone away from my ear with a wince. “Quit joking around, okay? It’s four thirty here in LA, and I’m not in the mood. I’ve been up all fucking night trying to put out this wildfire, so the least you can do is listen to me.”

Suddenly, the tiredness I was feeling evaporates. My spine goes as stiff as a rod, and my eyes are no longer heavy with sleep.

“What?” I whisper.

“They posted some bullshit on that bunny blog,The Warren Post, going into detail…” He trails off, not needing to elaborate any more because I know from experience what gets posted on there. A heavy sigh echoes through the phone. “Blaine, there’s photos.”

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