Page 38 of Twisted Minds

fourteen

Hunter

On the walk up to Noah’s dorm I keep checking on Mark. When I’d opened the door, it had looked like he’d been crying. I know there’s some sort of weird thing with his parents. They just don’t understand his career choice, which seems unfair. The way Mark talks about video games, shit, he just lights up. How could you not support someone you love when they clearly have a passion like he does? “You alright?”

“Yeah,” He smiles at me. “Thanks. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Care to share?”

“Maybe later. I just want to have some fun.” He smiles again, but it’s a bit off. Hopefully I can distract him for a few hours tonight. Mark stops in front of Noah’s door, lifting his hand to knock when the door swings open.

Brown eyes blink back at me.

What the hell?

“Monty?”

Brandon Montague, my fucking winger, and closest friend on the team. His eyes widen. His brown hair is messy, his eyessleepy. Wearing sweatpants and his team shirt, he looks so uncomfortable. “Uh . . .” Looking down the hall, he checks if we’re alone up here. “Um. Hi.”

“What the fuck are you doing? Is this Noah’s room?” I ask Mark.

Mark snickers. “Yes, it is.”

What the fuck. I’m stunned, too stunned to speak. “Look . . .” He rubs the back of his head. “I would really appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this.” He bites his lip, and his dark eyes plead with me. “I just don’t want people to know, ya know?” he whispers. “Not that you . . . shit. I mean, I respect that you—”

“I’m not going to out you.” I look at Mark. “Neither is he. Just go get some sleep. We have a game tomorrow.”

His shoulders visibly relax, the tension leaving his body. “Thanks, Russi.” He claps me on the back, shutting Noah’s door, and Mark is trying to stifle a laugh as he disappears down the hall. Although I’m shocked, it makes me feel good in a way. I’m not the only one. Being out in sports is not easy, and it’s almost like some of that weight lifts a bit with the knowledge that I’m not alone.

“Russi?”

“Nickname.” I smile at Mark, my mind still processing what I just saw.

“Cute.” Mark laughs, softly knocking on Noah’s door. “Noah was right, he is a hockey wife.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Noah is very persuasive.” That comment doesn’t raise as much jealousy as it did before last weekend. Mark knocks on Noah’s door again, and after a minute it swings open. I instantly look away. “Jesus, Noah! Put some pants on!”

Wearing our Hornets hoodie and a tiny black thong, Noah folds his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

“For you to put on pants!”

“Hi, Puck Daddy.” He wiggles his fingers at me. Okay, I’m getting less worried about him and Mark by the second.

“Noah. Put on pants!” Mark pushes him into his room and I follow. I’m honestly afraid for my life stepping in here. Closing the door behind us, I try to look anywhere but Noah’s ass cheeks. Nice ass cheeks, though, I will admit. I am only human! “Noah. Pants!”

“Afraid I’ll steal your man?” He sticks his leg out, posing for me. “Understood. Got it. One sec.” Mark rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed, then a knock sounds on the door. Noah walks over to it, sans pants, and opens the door. Monty stands on the other side looking at all of us.

“Oh, uh—”

“Who are you?” Noah asks.

Monty’s brows pinch then his eyes lift to mine, confused. “I . . . I just left here.”

“I’ve been alone all morning. Alone.”

“You’re . . . You’re wearing my hoodie.”

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