Page 6 of Defensive Zone

I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him. I’ve had a prime view from this shaded sun lounger next to the pool, watching him swim and now sunbathe. You won’t see me sunbathing though, no matter how many times he tries to convince me. I’ve spent far too many hours sitting in a tattoo chair to let them fade from sun exposure.

“I could live here,” he announces, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! What else could I possibly want in life? The weather is amazing. This pool is awesome. I’ve got a beer, and there’s fresh mangoes growing in the trees right over there.” He points them out, then tilts his head toward me and grins. “And I’ve got my best friend. Like I said, what more could I want?”

His declaration stings a little. Not because it isn’t true. I know without a doubt he’s one hundred percent genuine when he says it, but because I know what moreIwould want.

Him.

Yeah, I have him in my life. A best friend, a confidant. But I don’thavehim—not wholly.

The crush I told myself I would get over back in college? Consider it quadrupled. It seems the years we’ve been apart have only caused it to grow. I’m reminded of that saying,Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Well, I’m veryfondof Carter Lockwood. So much so that I’ve moaned his name while hooking up with another dude on more than one occasion. I felt like a complete asshole afterward. It wasn’t my finest moment, but I suppose neither is having a crush on my best friend for nearly two decades.

“When we retire?—”

I balk, my eyes widening behind my sunglasses, and I hold up my hand to stop him.

“Whoa, hang on! We’re not even thirty yet, and you’re retiring us? Do you want to jinx us and end up on IR next season?” I ask, referring to the injured reserve list. He knows we don’t talk about the R-word before it’s time.

“No, you jackass.” He snickers, splashing me with water. “In many,manyyears to come. When we’ve hung up our skates and cleats, I think we should buy a house out here, and then we could come out here as often as we wanted.” He sits up slightly, and those delicious abs of his tighten, making my mouth water. “We could even move here.”

I swallow a few times then clear my throat. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

He grins before finishing off his beer, and that sting in my chest returns. I know he isn’t doing this intentionally. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, because he doesn’t know how I feel about him.

I’ve never told him. I never will. But like I always do, I entertain it, because that’s just what I do. It’s almost like I enjoy torturing myself.

Because in years to come, he’s going to have a wife and kids, and I don’t want to be a third wheel, watching the love of my life live his with someone else.

The next few days pass by with sun-induced naps, dips in the ocean, working out with Carter before indulging in delicious food, and exploring this beautiful island. The hike we’re currently on is tough. It’s humid and muddy. We weave our way through overgrown greenery, some of it so sharp that I’m glad I read the reviews before we left and opted to wear pants. My legs would be scratched within an inch of their lives if I was wearing shorts.

“Fuck!” Carter hisses. He slaps the branch away and gives it the middle finger before rubbing his arm where it scratched him. “I’m going to look like I’ve been in a brawl with a cheetah by the time we get back.”

I snort. “Or a vicious kitten.”

He flips me off over his shoulder and continues up the path. I snicker, following close behind. We stop as we make our way up the trail to take photos and drink some water when we reach certain vantage points that offer beautiful views. With it being so hot today, the last thing either of us needs is to suffer from dehydration.

Sweat drips down my back from the exertion, causing my sleeveless T-shirt to stick to my skin.

“I feel like I’m going to melt.”

“Me too. I think my balls are stuck to my thigh.” Carter laughs, tugging on the crotch of his hiking pants.

I suppress a groan. I really don’t need to be thinking about his balls being all hot and sweaty right now. I’d do anything tonuzzle against his sac. I was already having a hard time with how good he looked in those pants. I nearly dropped to my knees and burst into tears when he turned the corner this morning and I saw how they emphasized his incredible ass and thighs.

Ugh. My cock gives an appreciative throb at the memory. Now isnotthe time to be boning up.

Think about anything else. Anything except his ass or his balls.

It should be illegal for someone to look so fucking hot. I’ve jerked off at least twice a day while we’ve been here. Seeing him practically naked, in only his short swim shorts, for nearly the entirety of the trip has made my dick be in a constant semi-hard state.

“There should be a pool up here that you’re allowed to swim in. I’m definitely going for a dip when we get there,” he says, completely unaware of the salacious thoughts in my brain.

When we reach another flat area, I stop and dump my backpack on the ground so I can take off my shirt. It’s practically dripping with sweat. I wring it out before using it to wipe my chest and my lower back. I don’t want to put my damp shirt in my bag, so I tie it to the straps, then turn to Carter. He’s peeled off his own shirt and his chest glistens with sweat. My tongue feels too big for my mouth as I ogle him behind the safety of my sunglasses.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” I croak out.

---