Page 12 of Josh’s Play (Hampstead Valley #4)

Chapter Twelve

Campbell

I’d been around naked guys all my life in locker rooms all over New York, up and down the eastern US and Canada. And yet watching Josh move so casually around his room after what we’d done, I marveled at his confidence and his comfort level. My cum was drying on his stomach, my words were still vibrating in my head, and he had simply hopped out of bed, his softening cock bouncing, his firm round ass there on display as he walked to the wall opposite, which was lined with shelves, dressers, and a medium-sized refrigerator.

I thought about getting up and pulling my clothes back on, at least my underpants, but instead I followed Josh’s lead, propping myself up on the bed in the darkened room, trying to be comfortable in my nakedness. I followed his movements by the gray light that shone through a crack in the curtains.

Josh returned with three bottles of water and a towel.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you hydration is important.”

He put the towel and one bottle down before handing me another. We both drained our drinks like we’d found an oasis in the desert. He reached out a hand for my bottle, then tossed both toward a recycling can tucked away in the storage area. One bottle missed and clattered to the floor.

Josh remained standing and opened the third water bottle, pouring some on the towel.

“Shouldn’t be too cold,” he said as he lifted my dirty hand with his and wiped them both on the dampened towel. He wet another spot and wiped down my torso and then my dick. I jumped at his touch. “Sorry.” He pulled the towel away quickly. “This one wasn’t refrigerated.”

He wiped himself down as I responded, “It’s not too cold. It’s just only the second time ever someone’s touched my dick. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

Josh sat on the bed and crooked a leg over mine. “Right, sorry. I should have thought of that.” His hand rested lightly on my leg, and even that had my dick twitching slightly.

We stared at each other in the dark, and eventually Josh said, “You okay?”

An unbidden smile lit up my face, my first reaction to the question, but then I thought about how I’d let loose, the things I’d said, the things we’d done and not done. The way he’d called me his prince.

“Yeah, I think so.” I opened my arms, and Josh climbed over me so that he was wedged between me and the wall again. I guessed that was his side of the bed and tried not to picture him sharing the space with other guys.

We’d kicked the blankets back to the foot of the bed, so he was able to cover us as he curled up into me again.

“You think so? Can you talk to me about it?”

“It was amazing, Josh. I’ve never felt that way before. And what you did, rubbing us together like that …”

“It was amazing when you took over. Your hands are so big and so strong.” He took one and held our hands up together to show the difference in size before interlocking our fingers and resting them on my chest.

We sighed at the same time, and my whole body sunk into the bed as I tightened my grip on Josh’s hand and around his shoulder. There were no more words, and I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

What felt like minutes later, I tipped my head to the side to find the light changing as it shone through the small slit in the curtain. I looked down to find Josh staring up at me.

I groaned, and Josh followed my gaze.

“Good morning,” he said as he tightened himself around me even more. It was rapidly becoming a favorite sensation of mine. I groaned again in frustration as I stretched and held him tight.

“I need to get to the gym.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know.”

I reached for my phone. It was just after six. “You’re not going to fight me?”

Josh sat up, and the blankets fell off of us both, my morning wood lying against my thigh. Instinctively, I reached to pull the blankets back up, but Josh extricated himself before covering me up and tucking the blankets under my chin.

“Better?” he teased. I just laughed and sat up.

“I hope, someday, you’ll be comfortable around me. But no pressure,” Josh said as he walked away from me and toward the mini fridge. “Just so you know, you can ogle my naked ass anytime you want.” I chuckled again, and he turned and tossed another bottle of water at me.

“And as for kicking you or not kicking you out of my bed? I would love nothing more than for you to stay here and keep me warm. You are fucking great at that, by the way.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

“All warm and muscly and … yeah, anyway. The whole point of this is for you to be with someone who won’t get in the way of hockey or your studies. So off to the gym with you. But maybe … if you still have any time later today, we can meet at the library, record the podcast about last night’s win?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. Gym this morning, but no practice later today.”

“Because you get to take a break after game night. See, I listen!”

Josh stalked back toward me and sat on the bed facing me. I loved the way his face lit up even as I knew he was teasing me. “But you’re still going to the gym.”

I ran my finger down his chest, fighting to contain any trembling, smiling as goofily at him as he was at me. “Unless you’re giving me a reason to stay.”

He watched my hand trail down the center of his stomach, but I stopped just above his belly button, ignoring the twitch I felt in my dick and avoiding looking at his altogether.

He lightly slapped my thigh. “Get out of here, Finn. My roomie will probably be back after his first class, and I know you don’t want me to have to explain why there’s a hot hockey player naked in my bed.”

I got up. Just got out of the bed and started to collect my clothes, wandering around his room as Josh watched me. I got dressed, glancing over every so often to find Josh staring at me unabashedly.

“Are you gonna straighten up before he gets here? That was his lube you borrowed and threw on the floor, right?” He hopped up and stood in front of me as I was hopping around to pull my sneakers on.

I caught my balance and got ready to leave, feeling like I was leaving so much left unsaid, some of which I would never be able to share with the hookup artist in front of me.

He reached up to peck my cheek and interpreted the look on my face as concern about getting caught. “Don’t worry, Finn. Devon will never know you were here.” I nodded but didn’t respond. “You ready to go?” I nodded again, and Josh turned and headed for the door.

He was reaching for it, and I was about to remind him he was naked when he thought of it on his own. “Oh shit! Hang on.” Josh grabbed a towel hanging from a hook nearby and wrapped it around his waist.

He started to open the door and used his other hand to wave at me until I went and stood in the corner of the room, behind the opening door.

“Coast is clear,” he whispered, turning toward me. There were so many things I wanted to say, and I guess he saw them in my eyes because he next said, “Go on. We’ll talk later.”

I nodded and hurried my way down the hallway to the stairs at the other end.

Some of my teammates were among the only people in the dining hall that early in the morning, and I met Noah at the breakfast buffet.

“If it isn’t Campbell Ryan.” He looked me up and down. “If it isn’t Campbell Ryan doing the walk of shame.” I could feel the heat flooding my face. Noah bumped my shoulder. “Good for you.”

“It’s not … I was …” Noah raised his brows at me. “Okay, whatever. Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too.” He laughed.

“Hey! Those of us who made it home last night were talking about the stragglers’ party. You know, at Thanksgiving? I know your family is close by, but you’re coming back for voluntary practice that Friday, right?” Noah used air quotes on the word voluntary as if we both didn’t know that Coach expected us to be there.

“Yeah, I’m traveling up for the day on Thursday, but I’ll be back.”

“Good, because Diane is going home for the holiday, and I’ll be all alone.”

“Don’t sound so dramatic. You guys have only been dating, what, like three months?” I asked, forcing a casual tone. I knew exactly when Noah met Diane because it was the same week Josh and I had met.

“I know, man. But she’s really great. Like, ‘I think she might be the one’ great.” He popped a big piece of bacon in his mouth and spoke around it. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for inviting her to that party. So I guess, thank you for spraining your ankle last summer.” He shoved my shoulder with his. “You bonehead.”

“Bonehead?”

“Yeah, man. You’re headed to the NHL, and you twist your ankle goofing off with your kid brothers. You need to be more careful.” He pointed down between us. “Those are golden ankles right there.”

I shouldered him back. “Your girlfriend certainly thought so when she had her hands all over them.” I raised my hands and made massaging motions.

Noah leaned in close though our teammates on the other side of the table were laughing over something on one of their phones and paying us no mind. “I always wondered why you invited her that day since you didn’t hit on her. Diane has a theory, you know.”

“Does she now,” I said cautiously.

“Don't worry, I told her she was full of shit, but she thinks the person you really wanted to invite is that short guy, Josh. The one you’re doing the project with.”

My heart skipped a beat, but I ignored it and snorted at him. “That’s one theory. Truth is, that was before school started, there was hardly anyone on campus, and I ran into two people our age. I figured some new blood at the Hockey House would be a good thing. Based on the fact that you’ve been attached to Diane’s side ever since, I think I was right.”

“Okay, so if you’re not into that Josh guy,” he said casually as if that were a possibility and no big deal, “we can try and fix you up with someone at the stragglers’ party. There are always people we haven’t met there. It’ll be fun!”

My heart was pounding at my lie, and I thought about what it would be like to just come out and say, Actually, yeah, I invited Josh because I thought he was hot. Noah started listing names of women who he thought might be at the party.

“… Oh! And there’s a girl from London in my statistics class. I’ll ask her.”

I drowned him out when my phone pinged, and I yanked it from my pocket. Part of me wished it was Josh checking in. Instead, it was Coach, asking to see me.

Since my first class didn’t start until afternoon, I visited Coach after my morning workout.

“Son, I heard from my buddy, Denny, after the game last night.”

“Was he here?”

“He didn’t come personally, but he sent a scout, and the guy has been praising you up and down to Denny. I wasn’t sure I should tell you this, but handling the pressure is all part of the game, right? Denny said he’ll be here personally for our next home game.”

I sat up straighter in my seat. My heart began pounding for the second time that day. I opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

“I think you and your parents need to start thinking about your future, Cam. Maybe hire a …”

“Sir, my parents can’t afford …”

“I know, Cam. And I’ll help you out as much as I can, but this is the big game now, son. You need someone looking out for your best interests. An agent, a lawyer. You need to focus on the future.

“Talk to your parents over the holiday. I’d like the opportunity to speak with them as well if you think that’s appropriate. You’re still a junior. You have time and possibly even options beyond Buffalo. I just need you to stay focused.”

“Yes, sir,” I said firmly. In my brain I was chanting no distractions, stay focused, as I tried to push thoughts of anything, of anyone , but hockey out of my brain. I stood and turned to go.

“Oh, and son?”

“Yes, sir?” I turned back toward him.

“No goofing around on the ice with kids at the local rink over the holiday.”

I wanted to argue and let him know that I would only be home for about twenty-four hours over Thanksgiving but thought better of it since hockey practice was the reason for that. So I went with another, “Yes, sir,” instead.

“I know you’re disciplined, Campbell. That’s all I need from you. Play like you’ve been playing, and you’ll wow Denny when he comes next weekend. Then we’ll get through Thanksgiving, then we’ll talk to your parents. Then we just watch the doors fly open for you.”

Doors might be flying open, but it felt like one door was slamming shut as I said, “Stay focused. Yes, sir.”

I left Coach Weadner’s office on autopilot and attended class. Back at the Hockey House, it was my night to help make dinner, and I ate with the guys, some inane reality show blaring from the TV as the beer flowed while I thought about everything the last twenty-four hours had wrought.

I’d commandeered the center of the couch, hoping my teammates would assume I was interested in the faux drama unfolding on our big-screen TV. Noah plopped down next to me on one side with Diane on the other. I looked between the two of them.

“You could have just asked me to move.”

“Nah.” Diane smiled. “We’re good. What’cha watching?”

“I, um … Housewives, I think?” I shrugged. “It’s whatever channel the guys had on.”

Diane’s eyebrows shot up, and she smiled at me.

“Maybe we should put the news on,” I suggested.

“Housewives are good.” Diane studied me like I was the notes for her next test. “Which one is this?”

I stared at the screen like it would share all its secrets. “Does it matter?” I waved at the TV. “Women fighting and throwing drinks in people’s faces. Quality entertainment.”

“Uh-huh,” Diane replied knowingly. I looked to Noah for support, but he was busy sharing a smile with his girlfriend. One of my teammates who didn’t even live with us grabbed the remote from the coffee table.

“Oh, no,” Diane snarked. “How will we ever find out how it ends?”

I looked between the couple again, and they shared a look that I just knew spoke volumes. I was pretty sure they were silently speaking about me.

“What the fuck do you two want? I’m trying to eat my dinner before I have to go record a podcast. Whatever this is”—I flicked my hand between the two of them—“it’s interrupting my quality quiet time.”

“Did you have dinner after the game last night?” Noah asked.

“What the fuck are you on about, Noah?”

“Ethan said you bailed on him after one drink,” Noah responded.

“And you didn’t come back here last night,” Diane contributed.

I looked around at the other guys. They were fixated on the scrolling of the TV channels that signified that I would, in fact, not find out how the Housewives of wherever-the-fuck-that-accent-was-from ended that evening.

“What are you guys getting at?” I whispered.

Diane leaned in close. “Not a thing, Campbell. Just …” She looked at Noah. “Only, if you’re happy and having fun and being safe,” she emphasized, “we’re happy for you. Noah and I just want you to know that. Right, Noe?”

“We are, man.” Noah looked from his girlfriend to me, and I could only assume he could sense the tension exuding from me because he quickly changed tactics. “Did you meet with Weadner today?”

My watch buzzed with a notification, which I glanced at quickly. I was scheduled to meet with Josh in fifteen minutes to work on our project. I shoveled in the chicken and rice meal I’d helped prepare and responded to Noah with my mouth full.

“Coach says his buddy from the Blizzard is coming to the next game. I’m trying not to get my hopes up. You know, head down, stay focused.” I looked at Diane. “Stay healthy. That's all I can do.”

Noah leaned over me again to look at his girlfriend. “Is that all you’re doing?” I could hear the innuendo in his voice, but I ignored it.

“Nope. That’s not all I’m doing. I have this huge project for sports journalism, so I’m going to the library to record a podcast right now.” I stood up, catching Noah and Diane looking at each other again.

“Oh,” Noah retorted. “With that Josh guy?” Thankfully, he had lowered his voice. “The person you don’t spend all your time with?”

I glared at him before I pulled my phone out and texted Josh to let him know I was on the way. I nodded and scowled at my teammate before I replied.

“We don’t spend all our time together,” I said, only it sounded like I was whining it in disappointment. “We’re doing schoolwork,” I added quickly, pointing at Noah. “I know your girlfriend knows what that is since she takes this place seriously, but you might want to grab a dictionary and look up the word. It’s what people in college do when they're not on the ice.”

Noah slid next to Diane and put his arm over her shoulders. “It’s not all that people do when they're not on the ice.” He smirked, but Diane shoved him.

“Give the man a break, Noah. He’s off to study while we’re watching these idiots flipping through the channels like that’s entertainment.” Noah didn’t respond, but Diane looked at me pointedly. “Have fun recording your podcast. It sounds like a great project. Say hi to Josh for me. You are working with him, right?” She didn’t give me time to respond. “Tell him I hope his finger’s getting better. And congrats on the scout coming to visit. I know that’s a huge deal; you should be super proud.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll let Josh know you said hi.”

I was heading to the kitchen to deposit my dirty dish, and thought I heard Noah whisper something along the lines of, “You should have told him to kiss it and make it all better.” His girlfriend’s, “Shut up,” came through loud and clear.

Diane leaned over the back of the couch to watch me as I exited the kitchen on my way to the front door. “Hey, can we listen to the podcast?”

“Nah, we haven’t published it or anything. It’s just for class.”

“Hmm.” Diane had a note of criticism in her voice. “That’s too bad.”

It was obvious my friends had their suspicions about Josh and me, and I was surprised to find that I wasn’t overly anxious that Diane suspected me of liking him. It didn’t seem like he had a problem with it. They’d said they just wanted me to be happy.

I shifted my thoughts to the man waiting for me in the library. I found myself almost giddy as I headed that way. My heart was thumping yet again, and I focused on the beating of it as I imagined sharing my exciting news with Josh.

I hadn’t even called my parents yet, but I found myself racing to 3C and bursting through the door. Josh was setting up the microphone he’d purchased after our first attempt at recording, hooking it up to his computer, and he looked up from where he was leaning over it to take me in.

“Hi.” My voice sounded overly excited.

“Hey.” His sounded cautious. “You okay?”

I could feel the flush on my cheeks as I realized he wasn’t thinking about how my day had gone after I’d left him. He was asking about our night together.

I answered the question he was asking as I made my way over to the ottoman, tossed my jacket, and sat down. “I think I am.”

The microphone plugged in, Josh pulled a chair in front of me and straddled it. I realized I was disappointed that Josh had put space between us. He sat quietly and waited for me to continue.

“I really am okay, Josh. Last night, well, this morning”—my smile was shy, his more of a smirk—“it was amazing. I feel like I should say thank you.”

“Oh, trust me, there is no need for you to thank me. I had fun.” I’d had fun, too, but the word still felt a little disappointing, like it wasn’t big enough for what had happened. It seemed like Josh had more to say, so I waited him out, trying not to look disillusioned.

“And I meant what I said, Cam. I get the whole ‘no distractions’ thing, but there’s a difference between a distraction and”—I could sense him searching for the right word—“and tension relief.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Tension relief?”

“Yeah, that’s all it needs to be.” He shrugged, and his eyes casted down. I thought I heard a bit of disappointment in Josh’s voice, but that couldn’t be right. If anyone knew about meaningless sex as tension relief and simple, no-feelings fun, it was Joshua Marchetti-Gordon.

He shrugged, and his voice got softer. “I can be that for you. Whenever you want.”

My eyebrows shot up again, and Josh jumped up, shoving the chair aside roughly and pushing me flat on the ottoman, his body draped over mine as he kissed me. I held him tight and rolled us to our sides, locking one of his legs between mine and pushing us up so that our legs weren’t dangling awkwardly off the piece of furniture.

We kissed for minutes on end, with movements that managed to be neither soft nor frantic. In my mind I thought, just right . I could feel myself getting hard, which didn’t surprise me since I was so inexperienced and horny, but so was Josh, which did surprise me since I pictured him as so much more in control than me. I guess I also still thought he was doing this more for me than for himself. When he started to gyrate his hips, he adjusted himself until our groins were touching. I let out a needy moan, and he responded by pulling back and sighing. It took his hips a minute to realize Josh was putting on the breaks, but eventually, he lay still in my arms, and his hand moved to brush the hair from my face.

“I love your floppy hair,” he said, and his look reminded me of a deer caught in the headlights. My heart might have skipped a beat at the words and his soft touch, but Josh yanked his hand away quickly and jumped up. “See! Just like that! Tension relief! Look at how relaxed you look. You’re welcome.”

Josh didn’t sound relaxed at all, and I was actually pretty amped up, but I had to admit, as I sat back up, that the tension I tended to carry in my shoulders had dissipated. Part of that tension was the constant need to keep my closet door closed, and part of it was my perpetual worry about my future career.

Josh had turned away from me and was fiddling with his computer again.

“Test, test,” he said into the microphone before adding, “Should we talk about last night’s game?” This was said facing away from me and into the mic.

“Actually, I have some new news …” I sat down next to Josh so we could share the mic and told him about the scout.

Other than our time spent together in class, I didn’t hear from Josh for the rest of that week or into the next.

For my part, I couldn’t get him out of my brain, and every day that I went without seeing him outside of class, I grew more distracted. Noah had stopped questioning me about him, after I snapped at him at breakfast the morning before our next game, saying that it was just a stupid project, and I felt so guilty and so confused, both for having snapped at and lied to my friend and for having dismissed Josh as nothing more than an annoying project partner, that I had a shitty practice that day.

After the third puck that I should have blocked sailed by me, a whistle blew.

“Ryan!” An assistant coach called me over. I prepared for a dressing down, standing tall at the edge of the ice as if ready to take the hit.

“Off day, huh?” was all the coach said.

“Sir?”

“We all have ’em. As a matter of fact, I’d say you’re way overdue.” He flicked his head behind him. "Go on, get out of here. Go focus on whatever’s got you so distracted.”

Fuck. “Sir, I’m not …” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was my worst nightmare.

He put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. “We can’t all perform at one hundred percent, one hundred percent of the time. You know that, Ryan.”

The thing is, I didn’t know that. I didn’t think I’d ever heard a coach tell me that, and I certainly didn’t believe it. I tried again to assure him I could continue with the practice. “Sir …”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Ryan. That’s an order.”

After I’d showered, I checked my phone on the way out of the arena. Josh had texted the words “good luck tomorrow,” along with about fifty images of a hockey stick. My heart soared and I smiled for the first time in days. I jogged for a bit before heading back to the Hockey House, trying to clear my mind of Josh and focus on the upcoming game, to clear my head as my coach had asked.

I couldn’t help it. My thoughts kept traveling back to Josh. I responded to his text with a thank-you GIF, and, my heart pounding, I followed that up by texting: I’ll see you tomorrow.

The next evening, I entered the ice after warm-up to the roar of the crowd. We were used to cheers and support, but word had gotten out that I was being scouted, and our little arena was full of supporters and friends. I only had eyes for one spectator, and I found him in his usual spot, notebook in hand. He was scratching away furiously. I stopped at my goal and was about to start my pregame ritual when the crowd started chanting. I looked up to see Diane and some of the other team girlfriends, all standing and clapping along. “Cam! Cam! Cam!” Soon the band joined in, and before long, most of the spectators in the small arena were saying my name.

I snuck a peek at Josh, who had stopped writing and was smiling at me as he chanted, before I looked at Ethan and shrugged. He nodded and waved his stick. I took a quick lap around the rink as my friends continued to lead the chant, passing close to the stands where Josh sat. I risked a slight up nod and a smile and was surprised when his smile seemed shy. His head snapped quickly back to his writing.

Back at my goal, I started my ritual, roughing up the ice to the beat of the music, “Every Little Thing I Say I Do” by Dayglow. The crowd ate it up, and I caught Josh looking, his smile bright enough then to light up the whole arena.

The buzzer rang, and I put all thoughts of chanting crowds, musical interludes, and Josh’s bright smile out of my mind.