Page 35 of Overtime Goal
“Won’t be the first time.”
He laughed harder, and I couldn’t help but join in. “Want to spoon?” I asked as I tossed the towel aside.
“Oh yeah.” He looked at me through half-lidded eyes. “Will you be the big spoon?”
“Whatever you want, babe. Turn over.”
He rolled onto his side, and as I curled around him, I locked my arm across his chest, and he put a hand on mine. We fit like warm, sticky puzzle pieces, perfectly tangled together. As he let out a long sigh, I buried my face in his hair and breathed him in.
“Logan?”
“Mm?”
“You know how you were talking? Dirty and calling me…”
“Yeah?” I held my breath, hoping I hadn’t offended him.
“I liked it.” He squeezed my hand. “It was super-hot. I hope you’ll do it again.”
My heart kicked because I liked dirty talk too. “Shit. You really are my filthy cum slut.”
“Goddamn right.”
We hadn’t figured anything out yet, but this had already been so much more than I’d expected. I let myself hope that maybe, somehow, it could last.
14/
riley
In the firstround of the playoffs, we knocked Montreal out in five games. It was a fucking rush, knowing we’d moved one step closer to the Cup, but we didn’t talk about it. As much as we all wanted back-to-back wins after last year, we were too superstitious to do more than send crossed-finger emojis in text messages.
The second-round games against the Bethesda Barracudas were grueling endurance sessions. The Cudas weren’t just good; they were legendary. For the past decade, they’d ruled hockey in North America. Their captain, Nick Johnson, was the kind of forward half the players in the league wanted to be and the other half wanted to punch. His linemate Tyler Jensen wasn’t far behind. Kev Moore was the defenseman I’d watched on YouTube back in juniors, analyzing his gap control like my career would depend on it.
Still, the Warriors weren’t underdogs anymore. We’d grown into a force of our own, and the series quickly turned into such a war that one sportswriter called it a clash of titans. After five games when every shift felt like an Olympic race, the Cudas were up three games to two. Now, with two days to catch our breath before game six in Bethesda, it was do or die. Either we’d clawour way back, or the Cudas would send us packing and advance to the Finals.
Logan and I decided to fly to Bethesda a day early. The excuse was to go before the team arrived so we could clear our heads, but really, it was about having more time alone. The day before the game, we took the seven a.m. flight to DC.
We landed in Washington on a perfect May morning and took an Uber to the Ritz-Carlton. It wasn’t the nearest hotel to Bethesda, but the team liked to stay downtown to be closer to the action. Logan and I had adjacent rooms on the eighth floor. It was quiet when we arrived, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Once the rest of the Warriors got there, the entire floor would be lively as everyone tried to work off their nerves.
I tossed my bag on the bed, skipped unpacking, and walked through the connecting door to Logan’s room. He was standing at the window, staring outside like he was pondering the mysteries of the universe.
“Hey,” I said, walking over to join him. “Why doesn’t DC have tall buildings like every other big city?”
“There’s some kind of law. I like it, though. Makes the city feel more like a small town.”
I rolled my eyes, making sure he saw. “It’s the nation’s capital, not Mayberry. Wouldn’t you rather it looked a little more… I don’t know, badass?”
“Itisbadass,” he said. “At least the areas that aren’t falling apart. The monuments and museums are world-class, and some of the traffic circles are basically small parks.” He slid a hand across my back and kissed my cheek. “You know, L’Enfant modeled it after Paris, and most of Paris is still low-rise.”
I snorted as I poked him in the chest with two fingers. “You’re a grandpa. Admit it: you like it old school because it feels safe. You don’t want DC to scare you.”
He scoffed hard enough for me to feel the puff of air on my face. “You weren’t calling me grandpa last night when we were sucking each other’s dicks like our lives depended on it.”
I turned toward him, working hard not to crack up. “Fuck off. I was trying to make you feel good.”
“And you succeeded.” He pulled me into his arms. “I hadn’t come that hard since… well, yesterday morning, I guess.”
“Glad you enjoyed it. I think my eyes crossed when I came.”
