Page 75 of Bad Pucking Roommate

“So, we’ve been told.” I exhale heavily.

“We actually cover pretty well on the ice,” Justus insists. “And we’re hoping if we don’t have to hide in front of our closest friends, that’ll make keeping this secret more bearable. At least until we get to the end of this season and figure out our next steps.”

“You can count on us to keep your secret.” Charlie nods at me with an expression I can only describe as proud, and even though I’m a grown ass man who doesn’t need his approval, I’m pretty happy to have it.

Chapter twenty-six

Justus

Luca’s birthday is coming up – I know, because I read it in a magazine as a kid—and it’s actually the same day as mine, just a different month, so it’s easy to remember. That’s the reasoning I’m sticking to, anyway.

And yeah, now that we’re dating it’s more acceptable to know personal details about him, but since he hasn’t actually told me about his birthday, it might be a gray area. That won’t stop me from celebrating him though, since he’s given me so much.

He hasn’t said it, but I can tell Luca likes to think he’s the one who benefits most from our relationship. His pregame ritual is a thing of the past—or at least it’s morphed into something we do for love of each just as much for our love of the game. He’s more confident on the ice, which is saying something since he was always one of the league’s top players, and he seems more at peace when he's outside the rink since he knows he’s more than just a hockey player.

Not only that, I’m pretty sure I’ve filled an emotional void he didn’t realize was eating away at him until the decline went into reverse, and the way he cuddles and holds me every chance he gets tells me I’m thereason he’s in such a good place. What I don’t think he gets is that he’s done the same thing for me.

I was just as emotionally starved and blissfully unaware of that as he was. Hockey has a way of masking the holes in our lives because we’re so singularly focused on the end goal. It wasn't until we started opening up to each other that I realized how much I missed having someone to talk to.

Prior to his diagnosis, that spot was filled by my grandpa. We shared a love of the game, and when I lost him as a confidant, I stopped confiding in people altogether. I wouldn’t say I shut myself off, but most of my conversations were limited to hockey. I rarely talked about my grandpa, my family, what I studied in school—all things that are part of who I am. Luca gave that back to me. He made me remember I have value outside the rink.

That’s why I can’t let his birthday go by without showing him what he means to me.

I need to find him a gift, but I’m not sure what to get someone who has enough money to buy anything he wants and needs. Obviously, whatever I get will need to have meaning, but what?

Thinking back over the last several weeks, there’s no shortage of events that bring a smile to my lips. Admitting how we feel about each other. Making love for the first time. Luca getting possessive of me at the charity dinner, which still makes my heart melt, even though it could’ve been disastrous. Then, watching his friends name him godfather of the baby they’re expecting…

Since that night it’s been mostly hockey, of course, but the moments between games are filled with an endless stream of happy memories.

I’ve all but moved in, spending every night we aren’t on the road here. I still have my apartment, which I’ll live in on paper for now, butafter just a few nights of sleeping next to each other we were hooked. Waking up together each morning, sharing breakfast and a shower before we go to the rink—in separate cars, but still—is the perfect way to start each day. And relaxing together in the evenings before bed… We actually look forward to going home.

Mostly, we just share dinner—Luca’s chef has started making more food—and since his tub is big enough for two hockey players, baths have become a regular thing. I’m not sure which I like more, the warm, soothing water, or reclining against Luca’s chest while we talk about everything and nothing, peeling back the layers so eventually there will be nothing between us.

Luca continues to read for me like he did when I had my concussion. Turns out we both like fantasy books likeThe Witcher,and even though we can watch the show–which we probably will at some point now that I can look at screens without issue–I love lounging against him and listening to his deep voice take me into an alternate reality.

Andthe sex… I always suspected it would be great with someone you had an emotional connection to, but our lovemaking surpasses everything I thought it could be. I don’t know how he does it, but Luca makes my body feel things I didn’t know it was capable of. Things that make me groan, things that make me whimper–and once, I think I might’veroared. Fortunately, that was at his house and not a hotel room, because there’s no way we would’ve been able to explain that to our wall neighbors.

Yet, despite all the good things that come to mind when I think of Luca, I’ve got virtually zero idea how to turn any of that into a sentimental gift. It doesn’t help that Tripp is shopping with me.

“Ooh, we should hit the toy shop.” His eyes light up as we approach a quaint little store that advertises gifts for all ages.

“Isn’t Luca a little old for toys?”

“Not the toy shop, thetoyshop. You know, to keep things spicy in the bedroom.”

“Oh.”I bet that’s a new record for turning red.“We’ve never… Besides, the captain’s meeting he and Noah are at won’t last long enough for multiple stops, so I have to find something at the mall.”

“Okay, A, never say never my friend, and B, a place that has over fifty stores isn’t really conducive to time limits. You’re gonna need to narrow things down.”

“How can I when I don’t know where to start?”

“That’s easy. Find the most expensive thing here. He’ll love it.”

I shoot him a droll look. “I want to get him something personal. Something that has a special meaning.”

“Get him a cock ring. It can symbolize forever all while providing hours of kinky fun. Two birds and all that.”

“Tripp,” I groan. “Be serious.”

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