Page 6 of Cherry Picking
“So you didn’t just hurt it in the riding accident?”
He shakes his head. “I irritated the old injury. Doesn’t need surgery again, thank god. They told me if it gets that bad, I can kiss my hockey career goodbye.”
I’m amazed he hasn’t already. Playing in the big league for years only to be cast aside to the trenches; I’m not sure I could rally my morale after that.
“Now I know why you practically fell off the map.”
He lets out a good humored laugh and scratches the back of his neck, gray eyes roaming me with a cool intensity.
“Your mouth is going to get us in loads of trouble this season, isn’t it?”
I stuff my hands in my shorts pockets and meet his grin. “My mouth is real good at attracting loads, so probably.”
A deep red soaks his cheeks, and I know absolutely nothing will keep me from seeing this easily flustered, bear of a man in my upcoming wet dreams.
“Out and proud might be an understatement for you.”
I square my shoulders and tip my chin up. “That a problem?”
Something soft and warm fills his eyes, and the way his smile dips just slightly doesn’t feel disapproving but almost sad.
“Not at all.”
I don’t ask, even if deep down the urge is irresistible. One secret is more than enough for one night, and I’ve already resigned myself to lusting over a potentially straight man. God help me if I find out he’s queer or worse: closeted.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that—other than it fucking sucks that people feel like they still need to be—but I’ve been the one to keep that secret before. I’ve seen the way it tears the other person apart.
I won’t put myself in that position.
I won’t let someone do that to me.
But with every unreadable glance and shudder inducing touch, I think my body might have other ideas.
CHAPTER 2
GRIFFIN
“I knowwhat it looks like when someone wants to fuck me.”
Locke is lying under a light blue Pontiac Firebird cursing up a shitstorm but pauses long enough to roll himself out and give me an exasperated look.
“You’re projecting.”
“Meet us after practice and tell me you wouldn’t want to get dicked down by this beast. Better yet, just google him.”
He rolls his eyes and groans when he rubs a layer of dirt over his forehead with a gloved hand. “Are you forgetting the whole ‘no sexual attraction unless we’re already into each other’ thing? The only person on that team I could find even remotely attractive would be you.”
Which is another case of been there, done that, and have no intention of trying it again.
“Stop talking about how much you want to bang your teammate. Don’t you have better things to do than distract me from working?”
“I could go back to the apartment and jerk off on the couch.”
He glares and lays back down, rolling under the car without another word.
Well, without a word that isn’t a grumbled, “fuck you.”
It’s only been a week since Riley’s boot came off, but he came out of it like a bullet. Practice has been intense, and seeing him you’d never think he’s been injured twice over.
