Page 48 of Flagrant Foul (Totally Pucked #3)
Sev Delorean
So, it turns out Teddy O’Reilly is completely insatiable. He’s the first partner I’ve ever had who’s been able to keep up with me, matching me round for round, and still wanting more.
We’ve fucked in every room in the apartment.
On the floor and on most of the surfaces.
By some miracle, in addition to all the fucking, we’ve managed to play fairly decent hockey.
Not great hockey, but still. We’ve gone to practices and trained, and we’ve taken our shifts at the hospital to be with Bryce.
Amelia is still hooked up to a ton of machines, but she’s gaining weight, and that’s a really good sign. Kell is pale, but she’s looking and feeling much better.
“D’you think Bryce is okay?” I ask Teddy as we get home from our latest trip to the hospital.
He frowns and takes his time answering the question.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I think the shock of what happened might only be hitting him now.
I think he went into survival mode when Amelia was born, and he’s only really starting to work through everything now.
It’s a lot. I think experiencing that level of fear is hard to deal with. ”
“I was thinking of asking Kell if it would be okay if we stole Bryce for, like, forty-five minutes tomorrow and dragged him out for a run and a coffee. Maybe it would be good for him? Get him some fresh air, get his heart pumping, you know? He’s not used to being stationary this much, so maybe he needs it. What do you think?”
He comes to me easily, like it’s something he doesn’t have to think about, something that comes naturally to him, and puts his hand on my chest. “I think you’re a good friend, Sev.”
I have no idea how he does it, but lately, when he touches me, looks at me, or talks to me, something deep in my core shifts.
A hard thing. A rigid shell that was purpose-built.
Designed to keep bad things in place. Things like fear and self-doubt and very old, deep-seated notions of not being enough.
I’m on edge. We’re in the locker room, ready to play the Dogs in their arena, and there’s a feeling I don’t like tapping my shoulder, trying to get my attention. A lot of the guys are looking at me as if they need something from me. I push it aside and focus on the tap on my shoulder.
It’s that fucking Capaldi.
I don’t like him. I can’t explain it, but something about the guy doesn’t sit well with me.
The Dogs are a tough opponent. They always have been.
They’re known for playing rough. I started my career playing for them, so I know how they operate.
Their antics have never bothered me. Do they play close to the line?
Yes. Is that a problem? No, not if they stay on the right side of it.
But Capaldi? He bothers me.
There’s something off about him. I’ve watched a bunch of his games since the last time we played, trying to get the low-down on him. He’s young and, like all rookie players, has a lot to learn.
The problem is, I’m not sure he’s teachable.
I look over at Teddy like I always do before a game.
He’s padded up, looking straight ahead. He’s getting his head in the zone, which is exactly what I should be doing.
Instead, I’m remembering the way Capaldi looked at him when he picked himself up off the ice after Tee checked him last time we played the Dogs.
“Hey, T-Dog,” I say softly, warming inside when he glares at me for daring to address him by his team nickname. I have to do it, though, because I need to soften what I’m going to say next, or at least, I need to distract him from it a little. “Do me a favor and stay in goal tonight, okay?”
He scoffs and gives me a gloved-up version of the finger.
There’s no possible way it should be hot.
He’s drowning in safety gear, and his movements are limited by it.
There’s a Buzz Lightyear-esque quality about him when he’s in his gear, a blockish, robotic way of moving, and yet, my dick has the nerve to twitch in my jock, struggling against the confines of my cup.
I drag my attention off Teddy and find that the entire team is looking at me.
There’s a subtle buzz of nerves in the room.
Last time we played the Dogs, it was a close game.
This time, we’re down Lewis and Bryce, and we have a new captain—one who will freely admit to not having found his feet yet—so we’re inarguably in a much worse position than we were last time .
We’re due on the ice in a matter of minutes, and Coach and I’ve already done our pre-game talks. We need to get moving, but everyone’s dragging their feet.
“Let’s do this,” I say, clapping my hands slowly. It lands flat, and even I can tell it’s lacking.
When we get on the ice, Teddy skates a big ring around me, and then a smaller, tighter one that lets him get close to me.
“Just so you know,” he says. “They’re ready to hear it, Sev…
And you’re ready to say it.” Before I have time to react, he gives me a devilish grin.
One that makes my dick jerk hard. “Imma go do a few deep stretches now, and I want you to watch closely, so you can decide what position you want me in later.”