Page 38 of Pucking Around

“Hold on!” Jake bellows.

I snort. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Seattle. See you tomorrow, bright and early.”

I raise a brow. “Bright and early?”

He flashes me a devilish grin. “Didn’t you check your schedule? You’re doing physicals tomorrow.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I’m your first patient.”

I groan.

“Better get in that beauty sleep, Seattle Girl. I can be quite a handful in the morning. And I’m nothing compared to the rest of the guys.”

“Oh god. They’re gonna start hazing me tomorrow, aren’t they?”

He laughs. “You know it.” Then he hangs up, leaving me blissed out on my bed with a buzzing vibrator.

19

“Come on man, poop already,” I mutter.

Sy is taking his sweet fuckin’ time this morning. Usually, we try to get over to the beach and do a sunrise walk, or he roams around while I surf. But I’ve got an earlier start than usual today. This dog needs to hurry up and make so I can bring him back upstairs.

I check my phone, tapping the message thread for Jake. Last night was weird. He disappeared into the bathroom for like twenty minutes. When he came out, he looked all flushed and glassy eyed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear to god he was hooking up in there. But I was right there when the door opened, and he came out alone.

I asked him about it on the drive home and he got all cagey, changing the subject. Something is up. I hate thinking he’s hiding something from me. That’s not how we are together. Or at least it wasn’t…but he’s been weird for a few months now.

I blame his Seattle Girl.

Jake went out to Seattle to meet up with Amy before training camp. He was so excited about it too. For weeks, it was all he could talk about. I mean, I don’t blame him. Amy is awesome. But then I got a desperate call from him that Amy’s flight was cancelled, and he was alone. Jakehatesbeing alone. I talked him down and he promised to call me back after he got his flights changed.

Next thing I know, I don’t hear from the asshole fortwofucking days. I was ready to call the Seattle police and start a manhunt. Then he shows up back in Jax with stars in his eyes, talking about his precious Seattle Girl. Best sex of his life, his every dream come true. Blah, blah, blah.

If she was so great, why did she ghost him? She snuck out before sunrise without leaving her name or her number. I’m not out here trying to rain on my best friend’s parade, but it doesn’t sound like the start to any love story I know.

For the past two months, I’ve watched him change. He’s gotten quieter, moodier. I mean, it’s all relative, so we’re talking Jake’s version of quiet. The man has no filter, no shame, and no ‘off’ switch. He used to drop everything and call me if he saw an interesting bird while driving. He can’t eat a meal unless he sends me a picture of it first. Now he’s doing fishy shit in the bathroom and hiding it from me.

I think the start of the season is coming at just the right time. We’ll get back on the road, and he can vent his frustrations over his lost Seattle Girl with a few bunnies. Not gonna lie, I’m squirming a bit just thinking about it. After a few bad experiences in college, the luster of the puck bunny life faded fast for me.

It took losing everything with my knee injury to face the truth I hid from everyone, including myself: I’m queer. Growing up in men’s locker rooms, I found ways to dissociate with that part of myself. If you’d tried telling twenty-year-old me that he liked sex with men, he would have laughed in your face.

When the burden of being an NHL star was suddenly yanked from my shoulders, I took my first unrestricted queer breath. I was free to explore what I’d kept buried all those years. A few drunken hookups in the back of bars revealed the surprising truth. Turns out I really like the feel of a dick in my mouth.

Not that I indulge very often. In fact, I haven’t gotten laid in like a year. I’m over the emptiness of bar hookups. I can take care of the urge with my hand. What I crave is something…deeper. I want connection and intimacy. Someone who challenges me. Someone who just…gets me.

If I can’t have that, I think I’d rather be alone.

I give Sy’s leash a little tug, turning to head back towards the apartment building. As I turn, I spot Rachel hopping down the stairs, phone in one hand, travel coffee mug in the other. Her dark hair is twisted up in a knot.

She doesn’t notice me or Sy as she heads over to her truck. I watch her slide to halt in front of the driver’s side door. She just stands there, looking at the handle. After a minute, she gets inside and shuts the door, but she doesn’t take off.

Curious, I wait. She turns the truck on, and it roars to life. She all but jumps in her seat at the sound and I smirk. What is this girl doing driving so much truck? She just sits there, both hands clutching to the top of the wheel, engine running.

Goddamn it.

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