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“Then how can we make it an easy sell?” I lifted my brows, my gaze drawing to his lips and back to his gorgeous eyes. I didn’t know a damn thing about hockey sticks.

He shrugged with a sigh. “I don’t know. I was just looking for an angle.” He twisted his lips and straightened.

“We could focus on any great NHL players who also used certain sticks. And aren’t you guys really superstitious?

What if we used some famous superstition on our campaign?

” Now that he wasn’t sitting so close, my brain cleared.

I typed in a Google search for hockey sticks.

“Maybe we can get some ideas from the ads the stick manufacturers are running.”

“Yeah, a superstition would work.” Chewing his lower lip, he typed on his laptop.

I glanced at him. “Do you have a superstition?” Some guys I played football with had them, but I didn’t believe in that shit .

As a smirk played on his mouth, he said, “Yeah.” His gaze dropped to my lips, and he looked away.

Oh, that’s interesting . “So, what is it?” I rested my fingers on my keys, watching his cheeks pink.

Dipping his head, he said, “I gotta bust a nut about an hour before the game starts.” His ears turned red, and his smirk widened.

As the vision of Myles jacking off filled my head, my dick plumped in my shorts.

“Oh, my God.” With a soft snort, I rubbed my eyes, the vision taunting me.

Fucking hell, now I’d know what he’d be doing before each game.

And I’d want to join him. “That’s uh, that’s interesting.

” As I opened my eyes, my gaze caught on the tent in my shorts.

“Fuck.” I slid my laptop over it and peeked at Myles, staring at my boner. “Um…”

His gaze lifted to meet mine. “Well, you asked. There you go.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Sometimes I do it before we play NHL too. It helps.”

As I barked out a laugh, I said, “You’re fucking with me now.” How often did he jerk off?

“Maybe, but you’ll never know.” He threw me a coy grin. “Now, let’s look at my stick.” He clicked on a website link.

I stared at him. Did he not know the double meaning behind his comment?

After getting most of the way done with our assignment, I closed my laptop and tipped my head back on the couch, gazing at the dark wood ceiling fan centering the room. “We learned a lot tonight. I didn’t know buying a hockey stick was so complicated.”

“Well, isn’t there equipment football players pick for personal preferences?” Myles mirrored me.

“I’d have to say cleats. Having your feet comfortable during the game while not letting you slip on the field is important. But then, the helmet you choose is huge for safety.” I turned my head at the same time he did, and our gazes locked. My heart danced in my throat.

“Want a beer? I think we deserve it.” Slapping his hands on his thighs, he stood. “I can show you your room, too.”

“Oh, yeah.” I hadn’t even thought to ask. Rising from the couch, I followed him into the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator, handed me a canned beer and took one for himself. After snicking it open, he waved me on. “Come on, it’s right next to mine.”

My eyes popped open. So before his home games, I’d be right next to him while he took care of his superstition. This would not be easy.

As he strolled down a hallway, I watched the sway of his muscled ass in his athletic shorts. Did he top, bottom, or both? JJ got to touch that ass. Heat flared inside me. We’d successfully avoided any mention of his date last night. It should stay that way.

He stopped at a doorway and flicked on a light in the ceiling fan. “This is where Tyler was.” He sipped his drink and stepped inside the room. “It’s the same size as mine and you’re across from the bathroom, which we’ll be sharing.” He opened a mirrored closet door. “Plenty of space for your gear.”

“Cool.” The carpet looked clean, at least. “Was Tyler a neater guy?” Too bad I’d never met him.

“Yes, in fact, he was.” With a frown, Myles passed by me as he left the room.

After drinking some beer, I turned off the light and followed him. “You miss him?” How close was he to Tyler?

“Yes, I do.” He ambled to the couch and dropped into the corner. “We were best friends throughout juniors. I spent a lot of time with him over the summers, too. We trained together.”

I fell in next to him. “Well, now you’ve got a new best friend.” Wrapping my arm around his shoulders, I pulled him in for a quick side-hug .

As his eyes widened, his throat dipped with a long swallow. “I’m…I’m glad you’re moving in.”

Shit, it probably was not a good time to tell him about me. But I had to. “Uh, Myles, there’s something you should know.” I freed him and inched away from him, dipping my head and planting my elbows on my thighs.

“What’s that?” He sipped his beer, peering at me.

“I’m not uh, I’m not straight.” As my gaze cut to his, I winced. Way to blurt it out.

He stared at me a moment, gaping, and then his lips curled into a lop-sided smile. “No way. You’re fucking with me.” He shoved my shoulder.

“I’m not, actually. My buddies figured I should tell you before I moved in here.” I pursed my lips. It seemed unimportant now.

He cocked his head, his gaze raking over me from head to toe. “When did you figure this out? Not in high school, right?”

“No, not in high school. In college, well, last year.” I fingered the pull tab on my beer can.

“I still like girls. I just, uh…” I drank a few gulps of beer.

“I started hooking up with guys every once in a while. You know, at a party if the situation presented itself. It wasn’t like I went looking for it.

” I forced my gaze to meet his. What was he thinking about this?

With his brows furrowed, he continued to stare. “So, would you say you’re bisexual?”

I nodded. “Yes.” My gaze traveled around the room—the television on the console, the front door. Why was it so hard to look at him?

“That’s why you’ve been hanging out with a bunch of queer football players.” He huffed a laugh, his shoulders shaking once. “You and JJ?—”

“We’re just friends. Nothing ever happened between us.” I cut my gaze to his. He was worried about that? “In fact, I haven’t hooked up with a guy since I’ve been here.” Football had been my focus. “You two are great together.”