Page 73 of Wrap Around
The rest of practice has me on edge, but also riding a high that doesn’t make sense. How can we go from being two repressed, closeted, pining wrecks to making eyes at each other across practice and having our friends notice and grin about it? Fucking Tim Landon even catches on!
We’re screwed. But I can’t stop myself from watching him, catching his eye, shivering when he brushes by me, either purposefully or not.
I can’t help it though. I’m so happy. Content.
Life is perfect.
Perfect can only last for so long, of course.
“Caldwell! My office!”
Shit.
I can’t imagine why Coach wants to see me. The team is on a winning streak, including the week of away games we played lastweek. We annihilated Abbotsford on Tuesday, and we’re feeling confident about hosting Dallas tonight.
Unless…
I told Gideon we need to be more careful. Now that a handful of our teammates know about us, and we’ve stopped trying to make it less obvious, there’s going to be more attention paid to our comings and goings. We can’t be sneaking into offices and utility rooms to make out, or getting off in the showers just because we think the rest of the team has left. We almost got caught after the game Tuesday, when one of the team trainers heard me moaning and came to check who was in so much pain they could be heard outside the training room. I had just enough time to fall to my stomach, and on top of my very erect, very exposed dick, and roll behind the tub we use for ice baths. Gideon had to make up some shit about his knees hurting and got put on the watch list for tonight’s game. He might actually miss out on ice time because he couldn’t wait until we got home to get my dick in his mouth.
Shit. That has to be it. I told Gideon there’s likely to be more attention on us, and there might be cameras that we aren’t aware of. He keeps telling me I’m paranoid, but look at me now, clunking my way to Coach’s office before I can even get my skates off. I’m overthinking everything, wondering why Gideon isn’t walking down this hallway with me. Instead, he’s in line to check in with the trainers about his knee, eyeing me curiously. All I can do is shrug and try not to look like I want to vomit.
I’m still turned around, having a silent but panicked conversation with Gideon, not paying attention to where I’m going. Coach stops to unlock his office door, and I run right into him, pushing him face first into the door.
“Shit. Sorry, sir.”
“Jesus, Caldwell, what are you doing?”
“I wasn’tpaying attention. Sorry,” I repeat.
Coach Dempsey eyes me like I’ve grown another head. “Why are you nipping at my heels?”
“You… You called me to your office, sir.”
“Yes. After you change out. Get your pads and skates off first.” He shakes his head, completely at a loss for why I’m in front of him right now.
“You sounded mad.”
“Caldwell, you’ve been here for almost an entire season.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s just what my voice sounds like. You think you’d have figured that out.”
That’s true. Ugh. I’m making a complete ass of myself.
“Sorry, sir. I’ll, uh, go get changed.”
“Well, you’re here now. Just, uh… stand over there,” he says, gesturing behind the two chairs in front of his desk. I wouldn’t fit in them with my pads, of course. Ugh, I’m so stupid.
Coach goes behind his desk and rifles through a file drawer. He finds what he’s looking for and turns back to me, once again looking at me like there’s something wrong.
I’m about to get reamed. Probably fired. I’m going to get a bad reputation and probably won’t ever play professional hockey again. Gideon will be next. He’ll hate me again if he loses this.
“Why do you look like you’re about to vomit all over my carpet, Caldwell?”
I close my mouth, rolling my lips together so I don’t start word vomiting everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life.
“What do you think you’re here for, Silas?”
