Page 11

Story: Beak Performance

“Everything okay?” I enquired.

“What?” He looked over to meet my eyes. “Oh, yeah. My boyfriend just texted me. He arrived last night.” Heat spread over his green cheeks, making him look adorably flustered.

“Your boyfriend?” Decks enquired from Bo’s other side. “Do you plan on introducing us to him?”

Bo blushed an even deeper red. “You already know him, actually.” He rubbed a hand over his sweaty neck.

Decks arched an eyebrow, telling the Troll without words to spill the beans.

“It’s Ollie. I don’t know if you remember him…”

“Oliver Bright?” He gaped at Bo.

Ha! My gut feeling hadn’t fooled me. I had been so sure something was going on between the two of them. Not that I hadanyone to discuss my theory with or any interest in being the team gossip.

“Happy for you, Bo.” My heart stopped at the smile Arne gave him from across the room, and the fact that his eyes flickered over at me again. I doubted anyone but me noticed. It was a genuine smile, yes, but to me it also looked wistful—perhaps even a bit jealous?

That’s just wishful thinking, Max.

Decks grabbed a towel from the shelf and swaggered into the showers. “If he’s up for it, bring him to lunch with you. It would be great to see him again.”

“Will do, Nate,” Bo mumbled, unable to hide his indulgent grin as he flung his phone back into his locker, grabbed a towel, and followed our centre.

Seven

Arne

For someone whose team had won tonight’s game I sure as hell was way too depressed. Perhaps I should let the curvy redhead over by the window help me get my head on straight.

I huffed.

Bad puns since 2007.

If this was school, and I was not a more or less functioning adult, I’d be writing lines on the blackboard.

Kissing your new teammate is never a good idea.

Throwing my beer back, I gestured to the barman for another. I never drank, but tonight I needed to get out of my head if only for a while.

Realising I was at least bi hadn’t been a tremendous shock. Finding myself in a dark room with my back to the door and my tongue down my teammate’s throat?

Yeah, not my greatest moment. He kissed you first. And you went all in the moment he did.

Things between Max and I had been so fucking awkward since our time at Lone Fox.

I’d felt it, truly felt it, for the first time when he asked me to help him with his tie on our second night of training camp a few weeks before our memorable kiss.

“Can you imagine I’ve never worn one of these before? We had a game on the night of my graduation. I should’ve probably practised this.”

With a grin, he had run his hand through the glossy black curls, ruffling them.

God, his cheeky little grin.

Then the air between us had changed. Charged. Crackled with static.

When I closed my eyes, I could still see shadows swirling in the depths of his dark eyes, felt his throat bob under my fingertips, his breath brushing against my cheek as I helped him fix his tie.

“Ready,” I’d announced, stepping back as if I had burned myself. “I’ll see you downstairs.” I had fled, hidden in the next dark corner, my head thudding back into the wall as I’d tried to calm my racing mind, my frantic pulse, and shallow breathing. And then that kiss on our last night…