Page 69 of Friendzone Hockey
Something nags at me. Would a real adult need someone to tell him how to run his day? Ugh. A real adult probably wouldn’t have drunk his face off because he was jealous of his best friend’s new boy toys. But I’m not letting go of Stacey for nothing. If this is the last time I get to cuddle in bed with him like this, I’m gonna eat it up.
Just as I’m getting settled, my somersaulting stomach forces me to shoot up. Nothing comes out, but my brain doesn’t care. It still thinks it’s ridding me of poison. My eyes are wet by the end of it, my abs feel like they’ve done a million sit-ups.
So not how I want to spend my last ever cuddle session with Stacey. Bet he can’t wait to finally be rid of me.
“God, I feel awful. You don’t have to see this, Stace.”
He hands me a towel this time. “Seen it before, Dash, and if you think I’m going anywhere, you don’t know shit aboutme. Here, have a little bit of this electrolyte drink. It’ll suck going down, but your body needs the hydration to calm the fuck down.”
Yeah, I know he’s right. I take a few small sips. The sweetness is a pleasant reprieve from the sour taste of bile. This time, I wrap my arms around him with purpose, like I always do but with the intent of imprinting myself into his soul. With the hope that he’ll fucking miss the way I used to feel in his arms.
Chapter
Fourteen
THEN
Off-Season Three - August
Stacey
It’s only August, but I’m counting down the days until the start of the hockey season. It’ll be my fourth season with the Wildcats and Dash’s third. My buddy-sleeping solution with Dash was a band-aid, at best, after his confession. The one where he told me he wanted to be with me, and I turned him down, even though it was the equivalent of driving spikes into my nails. Every time I look into his soul-filled eyes, I die just a little more. He’s trying to hide that look, but I see right through him. It hasn’t broken our friendship—so thank you for small mercies?—but this is definitely our fight era.
“Hey, Dashie? Could you do me a favor and dump the crumbs out of the toaster when you’re done?”
He’s at the kitchen island because he oddly pops up everywhere I am. Or I should say usually. When he doesn’t, I’m the one frantically texting outside the group chat to find out where the hell he is like the coward I am.
Dash looks up from his phone and stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “I don’t care about crumbs in the toaster. If you care, you do it.”
Then he’s back to his phone while I grind my teeth. Fine. I’ll do it. I dump them all onto a plate and slide it in front of him.
“What are these? The crumbs of your affection for me?”
“That’s not … fuck,” I mutter under my breath. He’s trying to pull me into a senseless argument. I won’t let him. “That’s what happens when no one does it. They rot in the bottom.”
“Then I guess I have a lot in common with these crumbs—I’m rotting at the bottom.”
He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. There’s one thing Dash never doubts and that’s how much I love him. He’s being a fucking brat.
But great. Now all I can think about is Dash’s bottom. How round it is. How plump. I’ve seen it in the locker room. Naked.Wet.My breath hitches. I leave the room before I bend him over the counter and spank his belligerent ass while I fuck him.
Two days later, Hunter’s over for no fucking reason, taking apart the outlet in the kitchen. Hunter’s always dressed for a day at work on a construction site, in stone-washed blue jeans and a white tank top, all of his muscles on display. Dash’s ass is planted on the kitchen island, mowing down on a bowl of cereal, wearing what looks like Casey’s Wildcats hat.
“Oh, hey, Stace! Got Hunter over here to fix the outlet. Hope you don’t mind.”
He knows damn well I do mind.
“Victim of moisture,” Hunter grunts. “I’m replacing this outdated outlet with a GFCI outlet. All outlets in rooms with water should have ‘em,” he lectures.
Blah, blah, blah.
“Appreciate it,” I grit out. I’m forced to pull out my good graces, offering Hunter beer and dinner. He declines dinner.
“Sorry, gotta get home to my little lady. I haven’t been as attentive as I should be, and I’ve been hearing about it.”
Did I hear that right? Hunter has a girlfriend? All this time I’ve been jealous, and he’s into women.
“He’s into men too,” Dash informs me later when I’ve commented on what a lovely job Hunter did on our outlet.
