Page 4 of Hot Pucking Summer

His jaw clenches, and he dries his hands on a white hand towel. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make him feel bad."

"I know you didn't." Despite being one of the most aggressive forwards in the history of the game, deep down Jax Anderson is a big ol' softie. We've known each other since we met at an eight-week 'learn-to-play' hockey program. I didn't know it at the time, but Jax was the richest kid there, while I was only able to make it due to financial assistance.

Despite coming from different worlds, our friendship was immediate. We pursued our hockey dreams together, from house league to competitive youth hockey and juniors all the way to getting drafted into the NHL. Two seasons ago, Jax got transferred to the Thunderhawks, which was the icing on the cake—I get to play on the same team as my bestie.

The only thing missing in our lives has been love.

When we first started in the NHL, we were young, dumb, and full of cum, and we loved the attention, the endless supply of guys—or guys and girls in Jax's case—that threw themselves atus. But that shit grows old fast, and now all we want is something real and long-term.

Luckily for me, I've found it with Cloyce. And it almost didn't happen.

Our team had two visits that day, so we were split into two groups. I was in the hospital visit group with Jax, but the schedule changed at the last minute, and I was sent to the school Cloyce works at instead.

Best random stroke of luck ever.

I liked that Cloyce didn't know who I was. I liked that he wasn't into hockey, even though he's making an effort now and has memorized all my stats. And funnily enough, I liked that he had to seriously consider whether or not to give me his number. Later, he told me he hesitated because he assumed I wasn't going to call.

As if I wouldn't.

Cloyce is the guy I've been searching for my whole life. He's kind and funny and smart and devoted to his students. He has the most joyous laugh, the most unruly bright-red hair I've ever seen in real life, and his body… Jesus Christ, his body. If I could spend the rest of my life exploring it with my hands and tongue, it still wouldn't be enough. If I have to tell him a million times before he believes me, I will, but Cloyce is the sexiest man alive.

"Give us a sip," I say when I notice Jax is drinking a beer, his long blond hair falling down his back, illuminated by the last light of the day. He hands me the longneck, and I take a swig, letting the cool bubbles slide down my throat. I hand the bottle back to him. "I really want you guys to get along. It's important to me."

Jax holds my gaze, his silvery-green eyes holding a quiet intensity, his mind clearly turning something over. "I know it is." He lifts the bottle and gulps down a huge mouthful, the weight of what we'renotsaying making the hot summer air even stickier.

We haven't talked about it since the night it happened two years ago, but it's always there, lingering on the periphery. We were in Seattle and had just won. The team was out celebrating, but I wasn't feeling it for some reason, so I returned to the hotel. We were sharing an adjoining suite. I went in to check on Jax since he'd hurt his ankle during the game and had stayed in.

When I opened the door, he was on the bed jerking off to something on his laptop.

Time has only blurred my memory of what happened next. I somehow ended up on the bed next to him. I saw the porn he was watching—a gay threesome. I took my clothes off. We started stroking each other, making out a little, our eyes flitting between the screen and each other.

When he got close, he murmured, "I want to share a guy with you."

His words were like a jolt of electricity ricocheting through my entire body, lighting up something inside me I never knew I wanted, but I instantly felt the rightness of it penetrate into the deepest level of my being.

I responded to his confession with, "I want to share a guy with you, too."

It's something we've done all our lives. Sharing, that is. Jax's mother unofficially adopted me when my mother kicked me out because her deadbeat boyfriend at the time had a problem with me calling out his bullshit sophomore year in high school, and I lived with them until graduation.

But even before then, Jax was always giving me his old hockey gear, lending me money for competitive leagues, covering the cost of travel and basically everything not covered by financial assistance that my mother refused to pay for since hockey was, according to her, 'a giant waste of time.'

Jax has casually dated two girls and a guy since then, but it's never felt right to bring up what we told each other that night.

But for some reason, it feels right with Cloyce.

Don't get me wrong, I'm protective as fuck over him, and if another guy so much as looked at him the wrong way, there'd be fists involved.

But it's different with Jax. The thought of him and Cloyce together doesn't drive me insane with jealousy. It drives me fucking wild.

I know in my heart that what Cloyce and I have is the real deal, and I want Jax to be a part of that. I don't knowhowexactly. I don't even know how Cloyce would respond. Would he be down for it, or would he be disgusted and think I'm a freak? Would he go so far as to break things off with me?

It's definitely a risk, but I'm hoping the three of us spending this long weekend together might help bring things to a head.

"You hungry?" Jax asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I tip my head up and grin. "Always."

"How about I fix us something to eat? A good meal might help us move past the awkwardness."

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