Page 98 of Time to Shine

Landon stared at him, at the concern warring with disappointment on his face, at his rapid way his chest was rising and falling, at his balled fists and his limp dick. Then Landon cracked up.

“What?” Casey asked.

Landon waved a hand in Casey’s direction because he was laughing too hard to speak.

Casey looked down at himself, which made Landon laugh harder. Casey started laughing too, but probably mostly at Landon.

“You’re naked too,” Casey argued.

“You just,” Landon panted, “ran naked across the shower room to rescue me.”

“Dude, I know.”

Landon had to brace himself on a wall to keep from collapsing from laughing so hard.

“What the fuck is happening in here?” Clint asked as he exited his own shower stall with a towel around his waist.

“Stacks used the bad shower,” Casey explained.

“Oh shit,” Clint said, with real concern. “Are you okay?”

Landon was worried he’d never be able to stop laughing.

“I think he might be broken,” Casey said.

“Well, fix him. We’re probably gonna need him Thursday night.”

That sobered Landon up. “What?”

Clint shrugged. “Back-to-back games. I’m guessing you’ll be starting on Thursday, right?”

“I thought since we have a break after Friday that Antton might start both games.”

“Maybe. Anyway, we can gossip about possible lineups when your dicks aren’t staring at me.” He left, and Casey put a hand on Landon’s shoulder.

“I hope he’s right. I want my parents to see you play.”

“Yeah, but... My parents were going to go too.”

“You don’t think they’ll want to go if you’re starting?”

“I don’t know.” All of the giddiness that had consumed Landon a minute ago had evaporated. “I should shower for real, though.”

“Okay. I’ll see you out there.”

Landon dragged himself, and all the guilt and anxiety he was carrying, into a safe shower stall.

Chapter Thirty-One

The game was a disaster. Boston smoked them 6-1, and Casey had been on the ice for three of those goals. Not great.

He and Landon had come home to a quiet house, Mike and Joanna probably fast asleep downstairs. Casey was exhausted and miserable, and dragged himself up to his bedroom.

“Goodnight, Stacks,” he mumbled, wishing Landon would follow him into his room, pin him to the bed, and kiss him until he forgot bad feelings existed.

Instead, Landon said, “Get some sleep,” and headed for the room down the hall.

Casey closed his door, stripped, then put on his favorite pair of briefs. He slid between crisp bedsheets that had been changed by the cleaning service that day and tried not to hate that Landon wasn’t there with him.

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