Page 37 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)

THIRTY

AIDEN

Sasha’s whistle chirped, the short, high-pitched peal burst throughout the empty arena. Every player on the ice groaned in relief. We were exhausted—every one of us. We came to a halt. No one bothered attempting to stop themselves, just letting their momentum die on its own.

Sasha, Will, Joey, and Matt had been kicking our rear ends—day in and out, on the ice or off.

Even in the film room and gym, they rode us hard.

I got it. I really did. Manchester University wanted another championship.

I’d lost count of the number of times I’d heard ‘We’re due’ from a student, professor, or member of the town or university staff.

The U was nicknamed the NHL Training Camp for a reason.

The team had the highest percentage of collegiate hockey players playing in the NHL.

Almost all the guys on the team dreamed of signing a pro contract.

So, yeah, I understood why they were pushing us so hard. Any other day, I’d appreciate every moment I got on the ice, whether the coaches were trying to make my legs fall off or not. But not today. Today, I was seriously over it and just wanted the whistle blown so I could get out of here.

I had plans.

Starting next week, we had games scheduled for every weekend until winter break. We were even playing Thanksgiving weekend. None of us was going home for the holiday. Instead, we would spend the day at the arena, eating, watching football, and goofing off on the ice.

So yeah… this weekend was our last one. We were free as a bird until practice on Monday morning.

Which worked out perfectly, since tonight was the Daddy Night that Ollie had demanded I attend.

Nervous excitement ran rampant, making my heart race, skin tingle, and palms sweat.

I’d even invited Shane, but his grandma threw a wrench into our plans when she told him she needed him for some fundraiser or something or other.

He told me what it was, but Alex came out of the bathroom naked while Shane whined about missing out on all the fun, so it went in one ear and out the other.

When Daddy Night ended, Alex and I planned to lock ourselves away for the weekend. I wanted to be able to enjoy myself, not nurse insanely sore muscles all weekend. At least not ones I got from hockey.

Alex and I snuck time away as often as possible.

It sounded juvenile, but since he lived near the arena and had given the team an open invitation to drop by his house, his place was off-limits.

And I certainly couldn’t bring the man back to my dorm.

That would be awkward with any man his age, even if he weren’t the coach .

Sometimes we’d steal away for food and a romp picnic-style in the bed of his truck.

After the first time, when I sported bruises from the corrugated metal bed and he complained his knees hurt for a week, Alex tossed an inflatable air mattress behind the seats because we couldn’t be bothered to keep our hands to ourselves.

Other than the truckbed, we were left relying on the club. Only the private rooms upstairs were safe, though. I’d not stepped foot into any of the public spaces since the first night, which saddened me. Shane paid good money for the membership, and I wasted it. Was wasting it.

But what could I do?

Not a flipping thing. The lack of access and the need for privacy seriously limited our ability to play and explore the naughty things Alex whispered in my ear during sex.

I wanted to experience it all. Even the suggestions that I didn’t think I would like, because how could I know I wouldn’t like them if I didn’t give them a try?

The truck picnics and the nights at the club kept us in check in, and our relationship out of the arena.

Mostly. There’d been a few times we got close to the line drawn in the sand, but we’d caught ourselves and the line remained uncrossed.

I wasn’t sure how much longer that would hold, though.

Keeping my hands off the man became more and more difficult the closer we became.

Sasha’s voice pulled me out of my head as he pulled the team in to talk before releasing us from practice.

“Alright. That’s it. The weekend is yours to do with as you choose. Go to class, learn something, then have fun. But first, O’Callahan, since you took leave of your senses this week, you get to remind the team of the rules.”

Rand O’Callahan, or the numskull as the team had taken to calling him, got caught by campus police drinking underage a few nights ago, so it didn’t shock me when he got called out.

He should’ve known better. We went over the rules at the end of each week’s last practice.

To make matters worse, he called Trey and me instead of Sasha or Coach Grigor.

“C’mon, Coach,” Rand groaned pleadingly.

A smile tickled my lips, forcing me to bite down on them to keep from losing it. I knew for a fact that tone didn’t work on Alex. It wasn’t a big jump of the imagination to realize it wouldn’t work on Sasha, either.

“Whining just got you extra ice time. Out and back, O’Callahan.”

Rand swore but did as ordered, grumbling under his breath the whole way. Sasha watched him go, then turned back to us.

“Alright. Since O’Callahan can’t remember the rules on his own, let’s all remind him as a team. And do it loudly so Rand can hear you over his whining.”

Sasha motioned to Trey, who yelled, “Rule one!”

We all replied, our voices filling the cavernous arena, “Drinking, driving, swimming, and sex… don’t do any two at the same time.”

“Rule two!”

“Don’t end up in the hospital, the news, or the cemetery.”

“Rule three! ”

“Don’t add to or subtract from the population.”

“Rule four!”

“Always wrap your stick so you don’t get sick.”

That was one of Alex’s hard-and-fast rules. It worried me that he could be seeing other people, but the chicken ostrich—I still couldn’t figure out what it should be named, reared its ugly head. So, I avoided asking him if he had other boys or even partners who weren’t boys.

Sasha patted Trey on the back as Rand slid to a stop next to us, bending over to rest his hands and stick on his knees.

“What’s the last rule, O’Callahan?”

Rand panted, “Stay outta jail. If you end up behind bars, call Coach Storm or Coach Grigor.”

“Why’s that, team?” Sasha asked, his voice echoing.

“Because if we weren’t smart enough to stay out, we’re not smart enough to get out,” we yelled.

Some of the guys grumbled about the rules, but I loved them. They were the same ones I’d heard from Coach and Anya…

Ugh, I groaned.

Tata and Mama. Tata and Mama. Tata and Mama.

I chanted internally, trying to embed the names in my psyche.

I tried. I really did, but I’d not seen Tata in person since he dropped me off.

We talked and texted daily, and Mama had been to see me a few times, but they coached a junior team and several youth teams, plus ran an ice rink.

They were just as busy during the season as I was .

My parents weren’t the only ones who didn’t make the trips for games, so it wasn’t like I was the odd man out.

Besides, I hated when Tata was in the stands.

It wasn’t so bad when he coached because he had a whole team to focus on.

As a spectator, his sole focus felt centered on me, and it made me antsy.

Which meant I played horribly. So Tata stayed home. Or so he led me to believe.

He lied.

I’d seen him in the rink before the two games we played near home.

He always disappeared after the game without seeing me.

He was just as adamant as I was about giving me a true shot at the show without any influence or interference.

I appreciated it, but I had to admit, I missed him. And Mama. And my room at home.

At least I was sleeping in my dorm again. Well, when I wasn’t with Alex. The last month had been freaking amazing, and I looked forward to every moment I could get with the man I was falling fast and hard for. And Hawk, whom I adored.

Tonight would be one of those nights.

After Daddy Night.

“Mercer, you okay? Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

I shook my head, turning to see Coach Grigor staring at me from the open gate to the locker room. Heat bloomed in my chest and face as I realized I was the only one left on the ice.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, no, Coach. I was just in my head thinking over that play… ”

“You’re a glutton, Mercer. C’mon. It’s the weekend. Go have fun for a change.”

Embarrassment burned through my veins. If he only knew. I skated toward him, walking through the gate as I said, “Thanks, Coach. You have a good weekend, too.”

He grunted. I felt bad for the guy. What I could gather from what I’d overheard around the arena and from Alex when I questioned him, Coach Grigor took care of his ailing parents. His mom was bad off, but his dad had dementia or something.

The locker room buzzed with activity and excitement. I sat in my stall, pulling off the nasty, sweaty practice uniform before tossing it into the laundry bag the equipment staff gave each of us.

Trey had managed to strip down to nothing, his skates already hanging on the dryers and his clothes in a pile in front of him.

He stepped over the clothes, coming to stand next to me.

His dick swung heavily. He had no modesty.

If my cock were that big, and my past wasn’t what it was, I might not either.

I looked up so I wasn’t staring at Trey’s dick and saw Alex leaning against the doorway leading to the coaches’ lockers. His eyes burned, and his jaw popped as he crossed his forearms over his chest.

“The twins and I are headed out to a fraternity party. Wanna tag along?” Trey asked, then and added, “There’s some seriously hot guys in that house if you’re looking to fuck. Or be fucked. I don’t know your preferences.”