Page 46 of The Poster Boy
Jay might have said it as a joke, but it made me light up inside. Winning his approval, his attention, had made me feel giddy, like I’d won the lottery instead of the tentative affection of a grumpy defenseman.
“You think I’m hot?” It was easy to tease Jay now that I knew him better.
Leaning in, I mouthed my way across his clavicle. “I thought you hated me,” I said against his skin, unable to look him in the eyes in case part of it was still true.
“Your looks were part of why I hated you, because you’re too fucking pretty when you smile. It pisses me off.”
That got my attention and I snapped my head up to look at him. “What?”
“You were this shiny, out, gay man, professional athlete, like a handful of other guys, and you were this poster boy for gay hockey players. Smart. Nice. Does charity work. Noone could be as good as you. It had to be an act. And it was. No one’s that good.”
My heart dropped, and it must have shown on my face because Jay smirked.
“You’re even better than you let on.”
I tightened my grip on his cock, watching his eyes roll back. “Careful, Jay, I might start to think you like me or something.”
Could he hear the way my heart was a kick pedal against my ribcage, thumping out a steady rhythm against my chest?
“Oh, we can’t have that, now can we, poster boy?” He moved closer, and winding his arm around my waist, he cupped my ass. “Now, are you going to get on your knees for me, Myers?”
It was deranged, but I almost like being called poster boy more than my own name. The nickname was meant as a subtle dig against himself, and maybe a bit at me, but I’d done what I’d needed to do in order to survive.
“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been living up to my poster boy duties lately.”
“What about your other duties?” Jay asked, flicking his gaze down my torso.
I sank to my knees and buried my face against him. Inhaling the scent of us on his skin, I let him hold on to me, ground me with his hands in my hair and his coarse pubes pressing against my cheek.
It was hardly a duty at all, and we both knew that, but pretending things were all fun and games kept us from going deeper below the surface. We were teammates who had sex sometimes. And nothing more.
We could never be more. Not only were we teammates, but Jay wasn’t out, and he’d never expressed an interest inbeing out. I doubted he’d come out before he retired. All the things I thought I wanted, I couldn’t have with him.
All we could have was secrecy and inside jokes, and I’d have to pretend it was enough. It got a lot easier to pretend when Jay finally fed me his cock and fucked my face in the middle of my kitchen.
I only wished I knew what came next.
Chapter 22
Jay
When I missed the third pass in a row, Boone skated over to me. He sprayed me with ice when he came to a stop and knocked his gloved fist into my helmet a couple times.
“Are you awake in there?” Boone smiled, but his eyes were full of worry.
I was a shit friend for keeping things from him. There was no way Boone would ever think less of me for who I liked, or was with, or wanted to be with. But he might murder me for letting a certain pretty goalie distract me from the game.
“I’m fine. It’s just an off day, that’s all. I’ll be ready for the game tomorrow, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been weird.”
Shooting Boone a smile, I knocked my stick against his. “I am weird.”
“Okay, fair. Then you’ve been weirder. How’s that?”
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t. I was drowning in my stupid obsession with Marek. I couldn’t regret being with him, not when it felt so good. Right. But he was a hell of a distraction. I’dmissed a pass earlier because he’d caught my eye. I missed another because I was trying too hard to not look at him.
In a word, I was being fucking awkward. It was definitely easier to play the game when I hated him.
