Page 12 of In The Game

I collapse on my elbows, ass still in the air.

“You have such a perfect pussy.” A roar overtakes him. I hate myself. I fake a final orgasm as he finishes.

We’re done here.

As an extra twist of the knife, he unloads inside me… But something isn’t right. Then it clicks—the condom!

“Wait... wait,” I stammer. “Did it break?”

“What?”

“The condom! Did it break?”

He slows and pulls out. “Fuck.”

“Are you serious?”

I’m glad I’m on the pill as backup. But I have no idea if Barrett has an STD. These guys sleep around enough, so it’s possible.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Ral. I swear I didn’t feel it.”

“Are you clean?” I snap, scowling. All I want to do is go home.

He pauses, probably from the sting of my question.

“Ye—yeah. I’m clean,” he stutters, and disappointment fills the room as our moment together evaporates.

I exhale.Thank god.

“Same. And on the pill.”

He breathes deep and wraps his giant arm around my waist, kissing up my spine. I despise and love how it makes me lightheaded.

I clear my throat. “We should get cleaned up.”

His lips leave my flesh, and there’s a suspended pause.

“Sure.”

He backs up off the bed and saunters into the en-suite bathroom where he comes back with a warm towel.Of course he does.He couldn’t be a douchebag and throw me his dirty boxers. After wiping away the evidence dripping from me, he does the same to himself and then climbs in bed behind me.

His palm presses against my stomach and then he pulls me against him again. It only makes the lump in my throat thicken. It’s comfortable and easy, but I reject the silly hope that we could ever be more than a hockey player and apuck bunny.The sting of that word is still an open wound. Eventually his breathing slows into an even, relaxed pattern.

Our moment is over.

I slip out of his arms unnoticed and pause to make sure he stays asleep. The price of his rejection in the morning is more than I can afford. When the sun comes up, I’ll be cast aside and heartbroken. Pathetic. I slink out of bed and tiptoe down the hall, pick up my dress, and shimmy it back on. I find my purse and phone by the door, then order a rideshare and walk outside barefoot, broken heels in hand. Within ten minutes, a car pulls up and I climb into the back seat of the third stranger’s vehicle of the night.

Barrett Conway changed me. He killed this puck bunny, ripped her heart out, and ate it. I can’t do this anymore. Tonight has made me realize how bad I want the real thing. I caught feelings within a few hours of being in his company. It’s time to grow up. I’ll never have a fairytale like him, but I can claim a mediocre ending—though I’ll never find it while living this lifestyle.

Hockey players don’t date the girls they take home from bars. They retire, go back home, and reconnect with their high school sweetheart or some B-list celebrity Instagram model. Whoever ends up with Barrett Conway is one lucky bitch. I hope they appreciate how good he is.

Tonight was incredible. But it’s better to leave with a happy memory than sad goodbye.

And I’m no one’s bunny.

THREE

Ican’t believe she snuck out in the middle of the night!What the fuck, Raleigh?We had something, I know we did. At the very least I thought she would have left me a way to contact her. I open my laptop and check Facebook first. Shit, I don’t even know her last name. There can’t be that many Raleighs out there. I type her first name into the search bar.

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