Page 64 of My Pucking Crush

Max

I t’s that damn naked-in-public dream come true. And it’s even more terrifying being awake for it. At least I have two hands to cover my junk.

My eyes feverishly look on the deck of my neighbor’s house for a stray towel. Nothing. Who the fuck lives there?

This is what I get for being anti-social.

My heart rate spikes as my skin cools. My neighbor’s back sliders are sans any window treatments. Fuck, they’ll see me before I see them. Great. Staying out of their vision, I peer in and notice several bodies. Very tall. All dudes. Thank fuck.

I take one last glance at the ocean, and breathe in to steady my nerves. When a roar of distant thunder cracks, I spin around. My foot wobbles from something unsteady lying on the ground. I lose my balance and my ass hits the patio door.

That’s one way to knock.

Instincts force me to turn around, and four sets of eyes are trained on me. One set belongs to a woman and the others, three men. A very mean looking dog bares his teeth at me. Fuck, make that five sets. This could be a problem.

The wide, surprised eyes from a guy with sandy-blond hair, tied up in a manbun registers familiarity. He rushes to the door and opens it for me. “Max?”

“Ashton Ives?” I say, breathless and thankful. But his friends are looking like they want to murder me.

“Max Ryan?” the lone female pipes up from a sofa, her jaw dropped. “The hockey god, I mean, player?”

It’s hard to feel like a god after being thrown out of my own damn house.

“Don’t mind her, we’ve been giving her too many orgasms.” Ash pulls her in and kisses the side of her head. “She gets feral now and then. I went to college with Max.”

The word ‘we’ sticks in my brain. Did I hear that correctly? They all give her orgasms? She’s sleeping with all of them?

I know Ash is bi. Is he also fucking one of these guys eyeing me with a death glare?

Just like on the ice, I assess my adversary. Not that I’m the enemy, but I’m standing here naked in front of a woman with three boyfriends and a severe-looking black lab padding toward me, growling, like he wants my nuts as a snack.

I clear my throat, thinking of what the hell to say next, when a soft-as-fuck blanket whips at me from across the room and whacks me in the face.

“Cover up, Gretzky,” the tallest guy barks.

Gretzky... Cute. I get it. And right there, I know that’s who Ash is fucking in this interesting foursome.

Wrapping the blanket around my waist, I relax, even take a seat. The dog puts his head on my lap and pants. I pet the soft, warm fur that relaxes me.

“Max, what are you doing here?” Ash asks, staring at his dog looking ready to hump me.

“Yeah, what are you doing on my deck, naked?” The other man in a suit is not as amused as his girlfriend. “My daughter stays here from time to time.”

Shit... Here come the pedo accusations.

“Yeah,” the girlfriend echoes him, but it sounds adorably forced.

“I got locked out of my house,” I say to explain that I’m not some pervert roaming the beach. “ Someone locked me out of my house.”

“You don’t say.” Tall-as-fuck guy doesn’t sound convinced as he swigs a drink from a fancy glass.

“Have any more of that whiskey?” I point to the guy.

“It’s the playoffs, Max.” Ash should get a job as the team doctor.

I just roll my eyes. “One drink won’t kill me.”

“No, but I might if you ever show up at my house like this again.” The dad sounds ready to murder me. “Where do you even live?”

“Stamford Connecticut, mostly, during the season. But I have a beach house next door.” I motion that way, thinking of how to succinctly describe how this night went. I don’t want to bring up Coach Avalon’s wake service or my parents. “I was on a...date that went badly.”

“I’ll say,” Ash scoffs.

Ash and the tall man, who I think he’s fucking, make the kind of eye contact that screams what an amazing connection they have. I’m jealous as hell. I don’t know if they’re out. They look so damn comfortable with each other.

Ash breaks the silence. “Come on. We’ll get you back into your house. Ford will sweet talk your girlfriend.”

His words still me. Ash never had any idea about me. They think a woman did this to me. I consider letting them believe that. Should I just ask for a phone to call Luca to open the door? I could download my security app, but Luca changed my password! I could call a locksmith, but that will take hours. Should I call Bronwin to come get me? That will also take hours. And get Luca into trouble.

Hiding .

Lying.

Smiling through the pain.

I’m so fucking tired of it all.

“It’s not a...girlfriend.” Heat soars through my body. “It’s a... boyfriend . Sort of.”

Jesus, I admitted it. I said I have a boyfriend . Luca feels more than just a boyfriend if I’m being honest. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Now I’m ready to pass out.” The woman shoves her dainty hands up in the air as the three men spin around to face her. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did, baby.” Ash laughs at her and cuddles her head.

“Boyfriend, huh?” The tall guy crosses his arms over a massive chest, but softens his eyes on me now.

I’m one of them.

There is a place for me in this world. It’s so hard to remember what acceptance looks like when you mix professional sports into your life cocktail. Playing hockey is my whole world, my echo-chamber.

“Don’t worry. Maverick and I can handle a dude.” Tall guy makes a clicking sound with his teeth and the dog snaps up.

Funny, I thought Maverick was the angry dad. Cool name for an attack dog.

Attack. Dog. Luca.

Hell no.

“Wait. I don’t want to throw him out.” I block the door. “I fucked up. Bad.”

“He locked you out of your house without clothes.” The dad still looks angry. “I’d say you fucked up. Who is the guy?”

I bite my lip, realizing saying I have a boyfriend isn’t the headline. It’s that I have the Russian mob after me. And my boyfriend used to kill for them .

Yeah... Not telling them that.

“My, um...bodyguard.”

“You’re six-foot-four and play hockey,” the woman says high-pitched. “Why do you need a bodyguard?”

“ That’s a long story.” One I’m not divulging. I’ll go to another house first and start over. Heck, a bachelorette party won’t be so bad after all.

“So, what do you want us to do?” Tall guy barks, clearly losing his patience with me.

All of Luca’s hurtful words ring in my ears again. But he was so right. I should have snapped at Cory. You don’t have to be black to punch a guy who’s racist. You can have principals and be decent, inclusive, and accepting without an agenda. Without skin in the game.

In this case, a dog in the fight.

Sticking up for Oliver was the right thing to do and I failed. Failed him and Luca. The only man I really give a damn about.

I glance out at these guys again. They don’t look ashamed for the life they’re living, and it’s a breath of fresh air. Ash is a star pediatric surgeon. The other two are wearing expensive suits, suggesting they’re successful too.

“Well?” Ash prompts me for a response.

“Start. Talking,” the dad says through clenched teeth.

I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, but Ash and his tall boy toy have figured it out. I have to apologize to Luca. I’m not a guy who says sorry very often. Not even on the ice when I leave a man bloodied and bruised.

Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness.

Coach Avalon’s words my freshman year in high school sound off in my head.

Help... My throat tight, I ask, “Do any of you guys know how to grovel?”