Page 18 of Bad Pucking Roommate

“What about tonight?”

“I…” I slump against the headboard, realizing I have no solution for tonight. “Maybe I’ll pretend I’m sick and ask Coach to bench me tomorrow.”

“That’s not an option and you know it. Look.” He puts his hand on my arm again and locks his eyes on mine. “I know you’re trying not to involve me, and I appreciate that. I really do. But for tonight we’re out of time. Besides, it’s not like I’m going into this blind. I’ll just do what I did before. You said that worked, right?”

“What do you mean what you did before?”

“I watched your face not…you know.” Oh my God, he’s blushingagain, and I’m really starting to find that amusing. Still, I don't want to put my burdens on him. He's better than that, and I promised Noah I wouldn’t... Although, I guess by confessing what they are I already have.Fuck!

“You don’t have to do this Justus. It isn’t your responsibility, and I don’t want you getting caught up in my bullshit.”

“We’re teammates.” He shrugs bashfully. “It’sourbullshit. So, do whatever you need to do. I’ll be right here.”

I’m so going to hell.

Pulling my arm out from under Justus’s I maneuver so I’m kneeling at the foot of the bed, facing him, and reach inside my athletic shorts.

Chapter eight

Justus

Luca never bares himself completely, and I never take my eyes off his. I’m aware of his hand pumping under his shorts, the grunts and groans that become more prominent the closer he gets to his release, and the relief that washes over him when he comes. I’m also aware that the way we stare at each other is more than just me deliberately averting my gaze, and Luca trying to convince himself he’s the inspiration for another man’s ego, which in turn fuels his own. What that means I couldn’t say.

I suppose you could make the argument that after such a candid, revealing conversation, there’s a bond between us that didn’t exist before. But I also think there’s truth in that comment Luca made after the first night—the one about me beingthere. Present. Not just in the room but in the moment. And the moment is…transcendent.

I’ve never felt so in tune with another person, which is flat out crazy considering the way Luca and I feed off each other on the ice.

Early on, we developed this intense chemistry, almost like we inherently know what the other is thinking or doing, and we play off that to keep our opponents on edge. It’s almost like we’re extensions ofone another, passing seamlessly back and forth and finding openings because I can intuit where he wants me to send the puck and vice versa.

That connection gives me chills when I think about it, but it almost pales in comparison to what’s happening right now… On the ice I can’t see Luca’s face, and in this moment, that’s all I see.

It’s full of gratitude, understandably, but also respect, relief, intrigue and if I’m not mistaken, desire. I figure the desire can be attributed to the physical pleasure he’s giving himself, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight murmur of that, too. I assume that’s probably normal under the circumstances.

When he’s done, he looks fully relaxed for the first time since he let me in the room, and a weird calm settles over me. It’s not quite the same as the one I’ve felt myself after sex, but it’s not far off either. It reminds me of how two people might simultaneously say ‘wow’ after they’re physically sated, except in this case, I’m emotionally sated. Not in a romantic way, but something more than just teammates. And just like the first time, I feel kind of humbled and honored that Luca trusts me to be the person who helps him in his time of need. Which I do repeatedly over the next several weeks since it seems to satisfy his superstitious mind and enables him to play as well as he ever has.

Sometimes a woman comes in. Sometimes not. Either way, it’s always the same. Luca doesn’t flaunt himself, and I keep my gaze locked on his. I think that’s a safe place for both of us, so no lines get blurred. Not more than they already are at any rate, though I’d be lying if I said the line isn’t starting to get fuzzy.

I’m not immune to the sounds of sex. Even though it’s Luca and this is all supposed to be a means to an end, it’s still sex. Regardless of whether I keep my eyes averted, I hear everything. Heavy breathing, moans, skin slapping skin. And the more I visit Luca’s room, theharder it is for my body to ignore the stimuli around me. Even when it’s just the two of us.

I assume part of that is because it’s been a really long time since I’ve been with anyone. Years. I put all my focus into getting to the NHL, and in only my second year, I don’t feel comfortable enough to take my eye off the end goal. The other part, which I’m still trying to wrap my brain around, is that this isLucaDaniels. My childhood hero, the man I’ve wanted to emulate for as long as I can remember, and the fact that he’s sharing his most intimate secrets—his most intimate moments—with me, has me reeling. It makes me feel like I’m important in his eyes.Special.

Is there any truth to that or am I just taking hero worship to a new and possibly creepy level? I’m sure the latter is probably true, but in the moments when our gazes are locked on each other, I wonder if the former is so hard to believe.

Not that I’d ever admit that out loud. I’m ninety percent sure these thoughts are in my head, and not his. Besides, for all I know this is how he is with everyone who’s ever been his audience, and I certainly don’t want to imply that I’m different from any of them. I think childhood me just really likes the idea that his idol might see something special in him. Off the ice.

That’s normal, right? The desire for people you put on a pedestal to put you on one in return. Or to have some sort of reciprocal respect between you. I feel like it is. My roommate doesn’t seem to agree.

“I appreciate the privacy you keep giving me and all,” Niko says from his bed when I get back to our room, “but I’m pretty sure I know why you’re stopping by Luca’s room all the time, and it’s got me a little worried.”

“You’re worried that I’m helping him get his mind right for our games?” I toss my room key on the dresser and fluff my pillows into a comfortable backrest.

“I’m worried abouthowyou’re helping him.”

The way he emphasizes ‘how’ makes me think he really does know, but since it’s not my secret to share I play dumb as I lean against my now fluffy headboard. “How is that?”

He arches a brow as if to say‘really’before exhaling deeply.“Noah mentioned to me once that I might want to avoid rooming with Luca since he isn’t shy.”

I guess he really does know.

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