Page 30 of Triple Pucked
“I better get dressed,” Shay replies with a fake brightness that I know well. Yet Shay never usually uses it with me. My stomach curdles. “Coach will kick our arses harder if we’re late.”
I’m certain now.
Something is wrong.
My brother is in trouble. And if he’s not even sharing the problem with me, then he’s in serious danger.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rebel Arena, Freedom
D’Angelo
I’m in trouble.I don’t think that the others realize how much.
If Heine is involved, then I’m fucked.
I clench my jaw, striding faster along the corridor that leads through Rebel Arena toward the crisis meeting.
What type of crisis?
Is Felix panicking about the club’s finances again? Has Seal, our mascot, been filmed fucking somebody other than me in the locker room? Has the equipment manager run out of pucks?
Coach’s gruff voice still rings in my mind, demanding that I get my ass down to the arena, while my cock was still clenched by his daughter’s sweet pussy.
Freedom Mansion finally feels like a home now that Robyn and the twins are living in it.
Robyn’s pussy aways feels like home.
The last four months, as I’ve worked with Eden in secret on renovating the mansion, have healed the wound in me that was slashed through my heart when my parents had me kidnapped in the middle of the night out of my own bed and abandoned in a discipline school for troubled teens because I dared to kiss a boy.
The scar will always be there, but now, I can think about family without tasting blood in my mouth.
Without remembering the flat look on Mom’s face, as I screamed for her tosave me— but she didn’t.
Without shaking because only months ago Dad rejected me all over again because I hadn’tchanged.
I haven’tchanged,and my new family don’t want me to. I have built this home for all of us.
I’m finally accepted.
Loved.
I will do anything to make my partners feel that love and acceptance just as deeply.
Except, is our forever home at risk because of me?
My breathing becomes shaky. My thoughts spiral. I tap out rhythms of three on my thigh.
Unexpectedly, Robyn stills my hand, before brushing it with the back of hers.
It’s as much public affection that we can dare, when other staff are already bustling around us.
The feel of her warm knuckles against mine, however, are enough to settle me.
Robyn is panting, struggling to walk fast enough to keep up with me.
“You’re not alone,” she whispers, looking up at me. The tightness in my chest lessens. “Although, could you slow down? My legs are shorter than yours, and you’re not wearing heels.”
