Page 4 of Our Hearts to Break

“Not home yet,” Parker answers between bites.

“I’ll take their pizzas,” Carter says, a streak of grease sliding down his chin, his finger covered in red sauce.

“No the fuck you won’t.” Nate sits and flips open his box, folding a slice of pizza Bianca in half. “If any of you touch their food, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Such a grump when you’re not bringing home chicks,” Parker says, waggling his eyebrows. “You need to get laid, Brooks.”

Nate’s nostrils flare at his comment. A shiver rolls down my arms as he takes in the intrigued expressions of our housemates.

“Who says I’m not getting laid?” Nate bites into his pizza, snarling at him.

“You kicked Samantha out,” Parker says. “And we haven’t seen anyone new since.”

“Thin walls,” Waters comments with a cocky grin aimed at Nate.

He balls his hand into a fist on the table, teeth gritted. The two face off, a silent communication passing between them. I expect Nate to grab Waters by the throat. Instead, he uncurls his hand and dabs at his lips with a napkin.

“Speaking of women,” Parkers says, tilting his head to the side, black curls flopping onto his forehead. “We read the article. Girls have been knocking on the door all day.”

“Yeah,” Nate growls. “Our dads are handling it.”

“Who’s the author of the book?”

Nate shrugs. “No idea. She’s using a pen name.”

“Reporters have been asking us for comments,” Monroe says. “We didn’t tell them anything.”

“Thanks,” I say in unison with Nate.

“We got your back,” Parker says through a mouthful of pizza.

The group grunts and nods in agreement. Even Waters bobs his head. The guys mutter their thanks for the food, raising glasses of beer, soda, and water bottles to toast us.

“You’re welcome, cocksuckers,” Nate says with a smirk tipping up the right corner of his mouth. “And thanks for keeping your mouths shut about what goes on in this house. We’re going out tonight. My treat.”

The guys whoop and cheer.

“Strippers,” Parker shouts, arm raised.

Nate is a lot of things, a dick being one of them, but he loves to spoil people. He acts like our teammates annoy him, yet he surprises them with food and buys them lap dances. He never spares any expense, nor does he expect them to reciprocate.

Nate is a good guy—when he wants to be.

His kindness and my skill on the ice are the only reasons their suspicions have stayed at bay. But what happens when we’re no longer useful after graduation and go our separate ways?

Keeping my secret—nowoursecret—gets harder each day. I’m not ashamed of being gay. Neither is Nate. It’s the public exposure that scares me. When it comes to sharing women, guys say things likeyou’re the manordude, share the wealth.

But how would they feel about Nate sucking my dick in the locker room shower? The locker room is sacred, and we’ve tainted it with our cum.

Instead of praising us, people would drag my name through the mud. I would no longer be River Rousseau, the captain of the Kingston Kings, the top player in NCAA Division I Ice Hockey.

I would be agayhockey player.

My relationship with Nate would be the topic of conversation in the sports world, and no one would look at me the same again.

I keep to myself, observing my friends silently, thankful they are loyal. While Nate uses money and threats to keep people in check, I treat my teammates respectfully. Some of the guys have struggled with their puck-handling skills. Whenever they ask, I drop whatever I’m doing to help them.

My mother says people never forget how you make them feel. And now, I’m being rewarded with their loyalty.

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