Page 42 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)

THIRTY-FOUR

AIDEN

Falling down drunk didn’t interest me, but most of my teammates, along with more than twenty or thirty other students bouncing around the upper floor of the dorm, could be used as examples of that description.

From my spot in the recliner, I watched people in various states of dress and undress sit, lie, and stand about, talking amongst themselves.

Music blared so loudly I seriously doubted if they could hear what the other person said.

This scene held zero interest for me. I liked things orderly, and this was so far from orderly it wasn’t even in the same galaxy. Sighing, I turned back to the video game I’d spent most of the night playing, hoping and praying people would leave me alone.

“There you are!” someone yelled, only for the crowd in our room to yell back.

Something told me to look up. What I couldn’t say, but when I did, I got a face and lap full of gas. My hands, still curled around the game controller, were trapped under some guy’s ass .

“Umm… someone’s sitting here already, in case you didn’t notice.”

The guy spun his backside around so his legs draped over the arms of the chair, and before I could protest any further, his arms snaked around my neck like a starving python set on squeezing the life from me.

I pulled my hands from under him, gasping when his lips locked on mine.

He invaded my mouth with his tongue, thrusting it in and out while sucking at my lips.

Cheering roared through the room. My teammates hooted and hollered while others chanted “Mercer” as if I wanted the guy rubbing up on me and fucking my throat with his tongue.

Shoving him from my lap, I stood, my eyes traveling to the man on the floor at my feet.

Recognition bloomed—the guy from move-in day.

What’s his name?

I closed my eyes and the badge he wore that day flickered from the back of my mind and I asked, “What the crap, Charlie?”

Reaching out to help him up, I expected an answer. Not being assaulted. Again.

He took my hand, jumping on me as he got on his feet.

He turned from python to koala, wrapping his arms and legs around me, his lips reaching for my mouth again.

Luckily, I knew his game and avoided him easily.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of several cell phones recording the nonsense.

“Put those away. Now. Don’t make me tell you twice!” I yelled. When the devices got tucked away, I said, “Now get over here and get him off me.”

“He wants you to get him off. ”

“Trey!”

“Okay, damn, dude. Take a chill pill.”

Trey and Ethan came to the rescue, prying Charlie’s arms and legs from my body. Once free, I stepped away from the three of them. Charlie was drunker than a skunk, barely able to stand upright between the two hockey players flanking him.

“I told you, you had a puck bunny. Dude’s been asking about you all semester,” Trey said, righting Charlie as he tipped to the side.

“And I told you I didn’t do that. Have you been encouraging this nonsense? Because if so…”

“Fuck off, Mercer. I wouldn’t do that. The guy asked if you’d be here. I told him most likely since you do fucking live here.”

I swore under my breath. I never should’ve moved back in here.

My teammates rocked. I loved them. On the ice.

Living with them? That was something else entirely.

I hadn’t walked in on anyone screwing on the couch, but the parties…

this wasn’t the first roof-raiser they’d thrown and it wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m out. I’ll see you guys in the morning at the barn.”

I walked to my bedroom, freaking ecstatic all our rooms had keyed deadbolts on them.

I could only imagine what I’d find in my room, in my bed, without those locks.

Once inside, I gathered up all my schoolwork, laptop, chargers, and clothes, and packed them in a duffel.

I locked the door behind me, then weaved my way through the throng of partygoers to the stairs. Pushing open the door, I sighed.

“Excuse me,” I grumbled, picking my way down the steps past all the couples too drunk to realize they were putting on a show for anyone who passed by.

Maybe they didn’t care. If things were different…

Stop it! Now. Just stop. Things aren’t different, and they won’t be for a long time.

There’s no point speculating, hoping, wishing…

whatever. There’ll be time for that after the draft.

After a team signs me. That’s the goal. It’s been the goal since I saw my first hockey game.

Since I first stepped foot on the ice. I can’t lose sight of it, not when I’m so close.

A couple of flights down, the party fizzled out. My footsteps picked up as I rushed to the lobby. The sound echoed, covering up the party and sex sounds above with each step until only my steps could be heard.

I pulled out my phone to text Alex once I got to the lobby, stopping dead when I saw he’d messaged me already. The smile that bloomed like spring on my face wilted when I opened the link he’d sent.

Dusty

Is there something I need to know? I’m trying very hard not to jump to conclusions.

Ace

Heading your way.

I’ll explain when I get there.

You have nothing to worry about.

There are no conclusions to jump to.

Dusty

See you soon. Drive safe .

I sighed, slipped the phone back in my pocket, and then dashed to my car.

Ice-cold rain fell from the sky in buckets, the drops enormously huge, smacking the ground with a thwack !

I slipped behind the wheel of my Jeep, shivering and damp.

Without letting the car heat up, I pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward my Daddy.

He always warmed me up in the best ways.