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Nacho girl sends me a dirty, jealous glare.

“I’m not a prude,” I say, struggling to reorient myself to this epiphany. “I just didn’t realize you were gay.” It makes perfect sense now why he hasn’t had sex with me. Plus, Wicker’s comment about Lex possibly being unable to ‘get it up’ makes it all click into place.

Only then, Lex says, “I’m notgay.” The insistence is tinged with condescension. “I appreciate the scientific method. The best way to prove a hypothesis is through experimentation.” He gestures up to the ceiling, where that promotional athletics banner is hanging, Wicker’s intense eyes glaring down the rink. Lex explains, “Physically, Wicker is the perfect male specimen. Plus, he’s flirtatious. Outrageously attractive. Fucks like a machine.”

Staring at him, I deadpan, “This is the most convincing argument for heterosexuality I’ve ever heard.”

Lex swings a glower on me. “So when I say he does nothing for me–not sexually–that’s saying something.”

“It’s saying that you’re… attracted to women?”

Despite the skepticism in my tone, Lex dips his chin in a nod. “Conclusively, without question.”

“Oh.”

It’s all I can think about during the second period, my mind conjuring up all sorts of visions. I watch Wicker on the ice, facing off with a cocky grin as the ref drops the puck, and then I glance beside me, at Lex.

His arm is still around me, so he’s close. Close enough to smell. Close enough to watch his eyes darting over the ice, the way his mouth tips down whenever Wicker passes to someone who isn’t Pace. If Lex is into women,‘conclusively,’does the fact he doesn’t try to fuck me on his days mean he’s just not into me?

Or is it something else?

In the end, I can’t help but ask, “So when you say you hadsex…” Lex’s eyes jump to mine, eyebrows knitting together. “What do you mean, exactly?”

He assesses me for a long moment, eyes scanning my face. Whatever he finds in my expression makes him snort a laugh. “I’m not giving you a play-by-play, Princess. If the thought of two guys getting off together makes you horny, then watch porn like everyone else.”

“It doesn’t make me–”

“Your cheeks are red. Your pulse is racing. Your pupils are widening.” The words are spoken matter-of-factly, even as he looks away, back to the ice. “Ten bucks says your panties are soggy.”

Any argument I have is drowned out by the sudden cheer of the crowd, Pace having sunk another goal. Down below, Wicker collides with him in an aggressive, violent, celebratory hug.

The rest of the second period unfolds in much the same way. In the end, I should have known.

“It’s Wick,” Lex says, staring down at his phone during the second intermission. Brow pinched, he mutters, “For fuck’s sake. He needs you in the equipment room. Let’s go.”

I should have knownnothingwould make Wicker Ashby hornier than having a hundred people cheering for him all night.

I follow Lex where he leads, only stopping when we reach a door emblazoned with ‘Equipment’ to reach beneath my skirt. He turns to ask, “What are you–” but then clicks his mouth shut when I step out of my panties. “Ah.”

Wordlessly, I shove them into his hand, ignoring the slack look on his face when he feels the lacy fabric, dampened with my wetness.

“Guess I’ll have to get you that ten dollars later,” I say. Opening the door, I disappear inside before he can reply.

Even in the dark, I can sense that Wicker has his cock out. Mostly, I hear his barely-controlled panting, the grunt he makes when he demands, “Get yourself ready.”

Unabashed, I shrug. “Lex already did.”

There’s a short pause, and then a low curse. “Did he now?” That’s when his hands find me, spinning me into the shelf. I feel the sweat dripping from his hair, smell the scent of it as he kicks my ankles apart and nudges up against my back, lining himself up.

Maybe it’s the hasty silence of it. Maybe it’s that the pitch black makes it impossible to see his face. Maybe it’s because Wicker could be anyone, nothing but his harsh breaths and gruff punches of air to identify him as…him. Maybe it’s that he’s already fucked me three times today, and I had Pace three times before that, and Lex was right before. Stewing in the thought of him and Wicker together? After watching the brothers move on the ice, I can envision it. Fluid and masculine.

He enters me so smoothly, my pussy already slick, that a low, rough groan emerges from his chest.

Gasping, I grab the shelf and rock back into his thrusts, uncaring of the way it makes him thrust harder and faster. His mouth is a shock of fire against the side of my neck, but it’s not a kiss. Not exactly. He rests his bared teeth there as he slams into me, his arms hemming me in when he rests his palms on top of mine, curling.

I match him, breath for panted breath. It’s sweaty and painful, a blur of slick flesh and angry gasps, and when he comes, I feel it in the pit of my womb, my center aching for something it knows he won’t give me.

There’s a long stretch where we struggle to catch our breath and I’m holding him inside of me, pulsing around him, as if that could keep him there.