Page 18 of Her Puck Daddies (Game On Daddies #2)

So, I open the door without a word, not even bothering with a half-assed greeting. Instead, I pivot on one heel and head straight back to my recliner. The TV flickers with an old Gretzky game, the volume low, the commentary a dull hum in the background.

“Man, what died in here?” Eric asks, hurrying over to open all the windows despite the autumn chill. I don’t answer him. If it smells in here, I haven’t noticed.

“ How long has it been since you cleaned up this place, Spandex?” my captain asks.

I shrug. I have to pause for a moment, really think about it. I’ve got a housekeeper who swings by once a week, and usually, I keep things tidy. But lately, I don’t give a damn.

So, what if I haven’t tossed out the takeout boxes from the Chinese place or the burger joint in a few days? Who the hell is it hurting?

“All right,” Sven starts, and I can already hear the tone in his voice—he’s about to drop one of his infamous captain speeches. “We’ve had enough of this bullshit. It’s time to let the cat out of the bag, whatever it is.”

I don’t, though. Why should I? It won’t help. Nothing will.

Eric stalks over and plants his massive frame right in front of me on the floor.

It’s a bold move, considering how grimy the place is right now.

The floor hasn’t seen a vacuum in almost a week.

He stares at me without needing to make eye contact, and then, out of nowhere, he reaches over and pinches my foot through my socks, hard enough that I can feel it. It stings.

“What the actual fuck?” I ask, jerking away from him.

“You’re hiding something,” Eric says.

One thing about Eric’s dyslexia is that he compensates for it by being hyper-aware of everything else around him. I should’ve known better than to think I could hide it from him… or Sven.

“Spill the beans, already, asshole,” Sven shifts to tough love mode, his tone hard and no-nonsense. I can tell he’s been here before—done the same thing with Eric a couple years back when he was struggling. “We’re not letting you wallow, and we’re not leaving until you snap the hell out of this.”

I don’t know what makes me do it. Maybe it’s the shitstorm my life has become, or the pressure they’re putting on me. Maybe it’s just the crushing realization that my career’s spiraling down the toilet with no way out. But before I can stop myself, the truth slips out.

“Ava gave me a blowjob.”

I watch as Sven and Eric toss each other a look, then go back to studying me.

“And ever since, my game is ass.” I look at Eric wondering if he’ll say anything, but while he seems shifty, he keeps what I know about him and Ava to himself. So, I figure, what’s good for me is good for him. “And I know that she gave you a handy, Eric. She told me.”

Eri c’s expression shifts to one of stunned disbelief, but Sven... he just asks, “When?”

"When did she blow me? About two weeks ago. No idea when she got Eric off—just that it was before she did it for me.” I shrug, keeping my tone as casual as possible, ready to fire back at them just as hard as they dish it out.

“I couldn’t relax the first time,” Eric blurts out, and I’m relieved the attention shifts away from me. “So, she helped me. After that, I was good.”

“What? You went back without her getting you off again?” I ask, incredulous. I didn’t go back at all. And I know without doubt that that’ll probably bite me in the ass.

“Yeah,” Eric says as if insulted. “I wasn’t nervous after that.”

Sven lets out a long exhale, so long it almost sounds like a sigh. And since our captain isn’t exactly the sighing type, I eye him carefully. “Well… I slept with her.”

That gets my attention. I sit up. “When did that happen?”

“In New York. It’s a long story.”

“If I have to fess up, so do you,” I insist, pushing up out of my recliner and heading for the fridge. There’s most of a twelve-pack of brown ale waiting inside, and with no game tomorr ow, now seems like the perfect time to take advantage of it.

Sven scratches at the blondish five o’clock shadow on his chin. “She got scared. I comforted her. That’s basically it.”

That’s not it, and he knows we know that.

“Why was she scared?” Eric presses, leaning forward.

“Something spooked her. I get the feeling there’s someone in or near the Big Apple she’s trying to avoid. Just a hunch, though.”

He could be right. I don’t know. But the fact that he’s admitting that much makes me feel like I could share more than I originally planned.

“I can’t stop fantasizing about her. I shouldn’t have given in when she started, but I did. And now? It’s like I can’t think about anything but fucking her.” I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “I want her. And I want her with both of you there. In a way we haven’t had her yet. Together.”

I haven’t even admitted that to myself before now, but let’s be real, it’s the truth. If I can’t have her, then I might as well check myself into a padded cell because my sanity is already hanging by a thread. And honestly? That just might be the best vacation I get all year.

“ That would be hot,” Eric smirks. “But do you think she’d do it again?”

“Odds, she’s already getting off with each of us in different ways. What if she wants us just as much as we want her ?”

And that settles it. Sven and Eric aren’t just into her, they’re just as fucking obsessed as I am.

And fuck me, the captain has already had her. Not just touched her. Not just fooled around. He’s been inside her. He’s fucked her.

“How’s Ava treated you since, Doggie?” Eric asks Sven, curious.

Sven shrugs, rubbing his jaw. “I haven’t been on her table since, but that’s just because she’s been booked with other players. I’m the one who pulled away, though. Haven’t really interacted with her much.”

That sounds familiar. We break our own rules, and suddenly everything turns awkward.

Would she freak out if we went to her and asked her point-blank if she wanted another foursome?

With me and Eric, it almost felt like she was taking one for the team—maybe literally.

But her night with Sven? That might mean she wants something more, something different than what we’ve been giving her.

“ What about the rules?” Eric asks, cutting through the silence. And that—that—is the crux of it all.

We all, Ava included, signed contracts stating we wouldn’t date within the Colorado Avalanche organization.

But here we are.

The three of us lock eyes. No one speaks. No one moves.

Then our captain, breaks the silence, his voice sharp, unwavering.

“Fuck the rules.”

His words hang in the air like a gunshot.

“This is our sex lives. No one else’s business. Whatever we decide stays between the four of us, and we move forward from there. Got it?”

I don’t know if it’s the finality in his voice, the sheer certainty, but something inside me eases.

And just like that, the dark cloud that’s been hovering over me lightens.