Page 46 of Don't Puck Up

“Walk down this corridor to the left.” He gestured to where he’d come from and gave me instructions I had no hope of remembering. But he also assured me there were signs everywhere.

I signed his cell phone case in thanks and hurried down the empty corridor.

It was amazing what star power could do. I still felt uncomfortable using my name and face to get me what I wanted, unless it was for charitable purposes. But my meetup with Kam a couple of weeks earlier hadn’t been enough. Neither had Halloween. I was a starving man, with the most exquisite of cuisine just outside my reach. I knew I could go to them or call them to me as V anytime—both had made it clear they were up for a hookup whenever I wanted—but I didn’t want that. I was desperate to lose the mask. It had become a prison cell holding me against my will. I’d been so close to taking it off when I’d snuck into their house to see Kam. I’d wanted more than anything to kiss her hand and then her.

But I hadn’t. Once I made that move, it couldn’t be undone.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for it, and I knew Chris wasn’t. He was only out to a handful of people; I was openly bi. I couldn’t risk anyone drawing any conclusions neither of them were ready for. If I eased them into being friends, maybe one day, that fear and need to hide might change. But until then, I had to tread carefully.

The locker room was quieter than I expected for a winning team, especially one who’d pulled off such a brilliant victory. Someone was talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I waited outside until the volume increased. I hoped that whatever they were discussing had been put to bed. I knocked on the door and pushed through, poking my head in before greeting the closest bloke in a suit. I didn’t recognize him, but he knew me.

“Locke Ledger?”

The room went quiet, and I looked around. Hewitt was standing up, half out of his gear. His wet hair was plastered to his head in places and sticking up in others. Gauthier was next to him, his hand on Hewitt’s shoulder. Hux stood nearby, his thumbs tucked into his pants. The rest of the team were in various states of undress, but I scanned over them until I spotted Chris.

I couldn’t help the grin that split my lips when I saw him. Down to his compression leggings, he was effortlessly sexy. I was wearing his jersey, and when he saw me in it, his face lit up.

“Locke?” he asked, his grin breathtaking as he stepped over the bench seats and gave me a backslapping hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching your first game back on the starting line. Well done, mate. The whole team kicked arse.” I’d spent so much time with him, training myself to speak in a Canadian accent, that speaking in my normal Aussie inflection was weird. But I wouldn’t trade any of the time I spent with them.

Chris’s cheeks turned pink, and he bit back a laugh. He was flustered, and I doubted he liked being the center of attention, but he looked good enough to have the whole world’s eyes on him.

I cleared my throat so the moan wouldn’t escape and forced myself to look around at the men and women staring at us. “G’day, I’m Locke. Great game tonight.”

I was pulled into conversations, mostly aroundVigilanteand whenVigilante Retributionwas being released. Filming had already wrapped up, most of it having been shot at the same time as the first movie, but I wasn’t allowed to divulge much. The third instalment was already in the works, but that was top secret.

There was a lull in the conversation for a moment, and Chris came to stand beside me. We watched as most of the team filtered out into the shower room.

“You want to join Kam and me for a bite to eat after I get done here?”

“I’d love to.”

“Okay, cool.” His cheeks flushed again, and he smiled shyly. He stuck his hand into his cubby hole to grab his cell, typed out a quick message, then stripped off his compression tights, his jock, and the thick socks he still wore, giving me a flash of that perfect arse. He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll, ah…. I’ll be back.”

I slumped down onto the closest bench seat and adjusted my jeans, grateful I was nearly alone. Damn, he was potent. Butterflies danced in my belly at the thought of spending an evening with them like we’d done in Fiji. I’d texted both Kam and Chris endlessly since we’d returned and talked with them for hours, but only as Vigilante. Tonight I wanted it to be me they were with, not my alter ego.

Not wanting to look like a stalker, I waited outside the changeroom in the deserted corridor. I knew the moment Chris walked back in there, though, chatter breaking out and my name being mentioned more than once.

I closed my eyes and pictured his towel tight around his waist and cupping his arse the way I wanted to. I could imagine his hair dripping on those broad, tattooed shoulders. I wanted to follow the path those dropsmade with my tongue, licking up every one of them. But the thing I wanted most was to kiss him. This whole thing with Vigilante was never meant to go this far, but I couldn’t turn away from them now if I tried.

“Hey,” he greeted me, startling my eyes open. “Tired?”

“Nah, just sore. The lights—” I pointed up to the fluorescent lights above. "—they hurt my eyes.” I followed Chris down the corridor toward the exit sign. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Feel like tacos?”

“Always.”

“We can take our car, and we’ll drop you back here when we’re finished so you can get your ride.”

He pushed through the door, and I saw Kam waiting for us underneath the streetlight only a few feet away. My breath caught looking at her. She was beautiful. Her hair was down, and the luscious waves had me itching to run my fingers through them. In the light cast from above and the ocean breeze, her hair looked like flames. She was wearing knee-high black boots, tight blue jeans that highlighted her spectacular arse, and a black coat. Her Seals jersey was visible underneath, and I suddenly wanted to peel her out of everything except the jersey and watch Chris fuck her in it. I wouldn’t complain if I got to peel him out of that sexy-as-fuck jock he’d been wearing either. With my teeth.

I shook myself out of my pornographic thoughts when Kamirah opened her arms and hugged me tight. “Hey, sweet… heart,” I greeted her, kicking myself that I’d nearly slipped up with which endearment I’d used.

She paused and inhaled slowly. Her brows furrowed, and I swallowed. I’d worn my usual cologne, and I was sure she recognized it. Did I say something? But what? I hated the deception, but a stadium car park wasn’t the place to have this conversation, especially not after Chris’s first game back on the starting line.

“Is everything okay?” I asked quietly.