Page 1 of Hot Pucking Summer

1

Cloyce

"We're here, baby."

Draper's deep, rich voice stirs me back to life. I blink my eyes open, adjusting to the late afternoon light.

"Can't believe I fell asleep," I say, blushing as I take in the impressive lake house we've pulled up at with its glass-paneled walls and dark wood accents blending perfectly into the natural surroundings. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Draper cuts the engine, rests his forearm over the steering wheel and smiles that heart-melting smile of his. "You looked so damn cute I didn't want to."

The heat in my cheeks intensifies. It's not that I don't believe it when Draper compliments me on my appearance, it's just that it brings a lifetime of my own insecurities to the surface.

If we were in high school, Draper Fassmacher would be the hot, popular jock that everyone worships and clamors to have come to their parties, while I'd be the chubby musical theater nerd who divides his free time between debate team and the science olympiad.

But we're not in high school, and in this current reality, Draper Fassmacher is a super hot and super successful twenty-nine-year-old leading defenseman in the NHL with one hundred and thirty-one blocked shots last season, while I'm a twenty-four-year-old, still chubby, still musical-theater-loving nerd who grew up to be a special education teacher who divides his free time between grading papers, lesson planning, and catching up on educational reading.

I still have to pinch myself that I'm dating an athlete. And not just any athlete. One of the first openly out ice hockey players in the National Hockey League.

We met when he and a few of his teammates from the Thunderhawks paid a visit to Bright Horizons, the school I work at.

Was it love at first sight?

I'd say no, only because I'm super guarded and have experienced a ton of body shaming that makes me extremely wary of guys' intentions. Chubby chasers are a thing. Believe me, Iknow. As are guys who like to lead you on before blocking or ghosting you. Welcome to the joys of dating as a plus-sized person.

Draper was charming, funny, and sweet from the get-go, and he seemed sincere when he asked me for my number. I gave it to him and honestly never expected to hear from him again. He texted that night, called the next day, and we've been video chatting every day and in a long-distance relationship ever since.

I've flown out to two of his games, but I have to say, I'm glad the season is over, even if I am bummed for him that the Thunderhawks didn't make it to the playoffs this year. With my school holidays and only a few short training camps scheduled for Draper over the summer, he and I finally get to spend some proper quality time together.

Draper looks around. "No sign of Jax's car," he says before swinging his crystal-blue eyes back to me, one eyebrow arching suggestively.

I chuckle. "Don't tell me you're horny again. We had sex this morning."

"Exactly. That washoursago."

"I'm starting to think you have a sex addiction."

"Nuh-uh, baby." He swipes his hand along my jaw, and my heart floats like a balloon in my chest. "The only thing I'm addicted to is you."

I try my best to drown out the nagging whispers telling me I'm fat and unlovable and really make an effort to believe him.

I've gotten to know Draper well over these past eight months. He's not the typical athlete bro who fucks different dudes in every city he visits. He video calls me every night, and we talk for hours about everything and nothing. He's been open and honest with me about his love life. He's done being chased by puck bunnies. He's over casual sex. He's almost thirty, and he wants to settle down. I may be a few years younger, but I want the same thing, too. Despite convincing myself it was out of reach for a guy like me.

We get out of the car, collect our luggage from the trunk, and make our way toward the house. "So, this is just one of Jax's family's family homes, and they're not using it this year for the Fourth?"

"Correct," Draper says, dropping the bags on the porch and taking out the set of keys Jax must have given him at their training camp last week. "His family is crazy rich."

"Remind me how again."

"His mom's great, great, great, great…I don't know how many greats, but you get the point…grandfather invented cardboard. Or cardboard boxes. Or packing tape. I forget what exactly, but it was something to do with moving."

"So, it'll just be the three of us?"

"Yeah, baby. Just the three of us."

I smile, relieved. "Good."

Draper is one of the biggest names in sports, but we've managed to keep our relationship hidden from the press. The only person who knows about us is his best friend and teammate, Jax Anderson.

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