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Chapter Twenty-Five

NATE

Weeks turn into months, and the pain of being apart from River lessens over time. Without my teammates—Parker in particular—I would have gone insane. Also, Ollie and Dean have been pretty good friends to me.

So, I asked them to tag along for River’s home game. Parker sits in the passenger seat beside me, tapping his fingers on the center console to the song. Unlike me, he can’t carry a tune when he sings. His voice sounds like birds dying.

I wish he would stop.

But his shitty singing makes me laugh too much to yell at him. Also, Ollie and Dean are in the back, kissing and making sex sounds. The radio drowns those two out. So until they stop, Parker can continue belting the lyrics to “Paint it Black” by The Rolling Stones.

River sent me tickets for the lower bowl, center ice, right on top of the glass. He offered us box seats, but I wanted to see the sweat on his face when he skated down the ice.

All four of us wear Pride jerseys with River’s name and number. We started doing this two months ago. Some of the fans noticed and posted pictures online. After that night, more fans dressed in Pride colors came to the games.

“Hey,” I yell over the music when I see a dick in my rearview mirror. “If either of you gets jizz on my leather, I’ll pull this car over and whoop your asses.”

Dean peels his lips from Ollie’s and laughs. “What? We were bored. Just playing around.”

Parker turns in his seat and licks his lips at Ollie’s big dick fisted in Dean’s hand. He sighs. “Not fair. You guys can’t play without me.”

It’s not like I haven’t watched them do the very same thing on their OnlyFans page. Hell, I’ve watched them fuck on and off-screen. These two are not shy about sex.

Although, seeing them with Parker is interesting. He’s so reserved and serious.

“Jealous?” Ollie asks with a wink.

Parker bites his lip. “Yes.”

The sexual tension in the car is so high, the air reeking of sex and testosterone.

“Enough,” I tell them. “Dean, put Ollie’s dick away. Parker, turn your ass around and stop squirming in your seat. And Ollie, stop egging Dean on. We’re almost at the arena. You can fuck in the bathroom all you want… but not in my car.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dean jokes, laughing. “I love it when you get all caveman. It’s so hot.”

Parker growls, his jealousy kicking into overdrive. “Dean,” he warns.

He moves his head between our seats, batting the long lashes accentuating his big, blue eyes. “Yes, sexy?”

“You know what you did.” Parker cups his cheek and smiles. “I’m gonna spank you later for it.”

Dean chuckles. “Counting on it, cutie.”

“Y’all are annoying the fuck out of me,” I say to silence this painful conversation. “Shut up and be quiet until we get there.”

“Oh, look,” Dean says, “his southern accent is coming out. That only happens when he’s mad.”

“Don’t push me.” Using my elbow, I shove him off the center console. “Get back in your seat and zip it.”

Dean sits back and settles in beside Ollie, dick now tucked back into his pants. “I really like the sexy cowboy thing. Maybe we could do a video like that.”

“Mmm,” Ollie says. “Yeah, our fans would love that.”

Parker crosses his arms over his chest and sighs, eyes on the road. He has a strange but complicated relationship with the two camboys.

When they first hooked up, he knew they were performers. That they strip several times a week and post videos on their OnlyFans.

The funny thing is that Dean comes from generational wealth. Yet, he sells his body for cash. He mostly does it to help out Ollie, but he also does it to piss off his dad.

“Do you want to join us?” Dean asks Parker as he touches his shoulder. “We could use a third.”

“No, I’m not ready for that,” Parker says. “You guys can do whatever you want.”

They go back and forth about the OnlyFans video for the rest of the car ride. I do my best to block them out, but I can’t ignore how upset Parker gets every time they mention it.

River is on the ice with his team when we find our seats, warming up before the game. I get a nice view of him stretching, his ass facing me. He knows I’m here. The bastard is doing it just to fuck with me. My cock jerks each time he nearly humps the ice. I swipe a hand over my jaw and groan.

“My thoughts exactly,” Dean says, no shame on his face. “You got a fine ass man.”

Ollie never seems bothered by Dean’s flirtiness. He nods in agreement, eyes on River’s ass. You can’t see much in his uniform, but I know what hides beneath each layer.

When I snap my gaze at Parker, his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. He needs to stop moping. His broody vibe is killing my mojo.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you,” I whisper.

He turns his head to look at me. “I’m not jealous.”

“If you want to be with them, you must accept certain things. I had to accept being away from River for half of each hockey season. It blows… but it’s necessary.”

“I hate when other men look at them,” he says in a hushed tone, leaning into my arm.

“How do you think I feel? River is famous. I go feral whenever people talk about him like he’s a piece of meat. It sucks. But it’s part of the gig. You’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah. But River isn’t doing… you know. What they do.”

“Look, dude, I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve jerked off to both of your boyfriends. More than once. So has River. They’re the reason River and me are together.”

His eyes widen. “I could have lived without knowing that.”

I shrug. “I’m surprised you didn’t. I assumed Ollie and Dean would have told you.”

River rises from the ice and spins around to face us. He skates over to the glass and puts his gloved hand on it. It’s been ten days since I last saw him in person, and my heart slams into my chest.

The crowd screams his name. River takes out his mouthguard, smiles, and waves, keeping his other hand on the glass.

I hop out of my seat and place my hand against his.

“ Je vous aime ,” he says because he knows how much I love when he speaks French.

“I love you, too, baby.”

I blow him a kiss that he pretends to catch. The women a few rows behind me scream our names. All of the fans know me. River mentions me in almost every interview. Most of his TikTok videos and Instagram pictures feature me. He’s not afraid to let everyone know he loves me.

“You guys are so cute it’s gross,” Dean shouts over the fans.

“We love you, River,” the girls yell. “You too, Nate.”

Coach Thompson flags River down, annoyed by the distractions. He gives me one last look and skates away, stuffing the mouthguard back into place. He doesn’t look back at us for the remainder of the warmup. And I don’t blame him. River is a rookie and has to prove his worth.

He’s playing the best season of his life. If he keeps it up, he might get Rookie of the Year. If anyone deserves the Calder Memorial Trophy, it’s River. His dad won it in his rookie year. Like father, like son, River is following in Ryan’s footsteps.

By the end of the second period, the Islanders are up two points against the Caps. River is on a breakaway, skating down the ice, with several players trying to catch up.

I’m already on my feet, Parker latched onto my arm, squeezing the life out of me. Ollie and Dean are pressed up against the glass and shouting.

River sweeps the puck left, then right, and takes the shot. A siren blares throughout the arena. The fans jump out of their seats and cheer my boyfriend’s name.

On his way back to the bench, River taps his glove on the glass and winks, letting me know that goal was for me.

“I never have a fucking clue what’s going on,” Dean says, shaking his head. “But hockey is fun. I love the fighting.” He moves beside Parker and grabs his hip. “Especially when you’re the one doing the fighting.”

Parker hasn’t come out publicly, so he smiles and pulls out of his embrace. He’s worried about his family finding out. Like me, he has a trust fund controlled by his father.

Thankfully, I only have a few more weeks until graduation and my financial freedom. But Parker doesn’t gain complete control of his money until his twenty-fifth birthday.

Parker and I take turns explaining the plays to Ollie and Dean for the rest of the game. They nod and make jokes about doing things with pucks and sticks. Everything with those two is laced with sexual innuendo.

After the game ends, I drive my friends back to River’s house—our new home. It still feels unreal that River bought us a place to start our lives. In less than a month, I will wake up to him every morning like old times.

The Islanders win by three points. Whatever doubt River had about his sexuality impacting his career has gone out the window. His skills on the ice make him shine. Even the haters can’t deny my boyfriend is the best rookie in the league.

I park in the driveway, and Parker tumbles out of the car, drunk and staggering up the walkway. He started fisting beers like a champ by the third period and can barely stand.

He burps and walks into a bush. “Oh, fuck. That was… prickly.”

Dean is behind him, hands on his hips. “You drank too much, sexy. I think we need to tuck you into bed.”

“Mmm…” Parker licks his lips. “Yes. Bed. Fuck. Me.”

He slurs his words and almost falls again, even with Dean doing his best to hold him up.

“No, I mean sleep.”

“Boo,” Parker groans as I open the front door. “I wanna fuck.”

“Not tonight,” Ollie chimes. “You’re beyond incapacitated.”

“Take the first room on the right,” I say, pointing at the staircase. “There’s an ensuite bathroom in case he has to puke.”

Dean nods and mutters thanks, dragging Parker’s heavy body up the stairs with Ollie’s help. I doubt I will see them again, which is fine with me. The moment River gets home, I want him all to myself.