Page 62 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

FIFTY-TWO

AMbrOSE

Why the fuck did I consider blowing him?

That would be cheating on Tobi, right? Even with us all fucking together, it would still be without Tobi. That can’t be right.

And Savage can’t really want that. It was just a game he’s playing to get in my head. I know how he is—I can’t believe I even considered it to be anything else. I would have gotten on my knees, and he would have left me there hard or something.

I refuse to let him get in my head before the game. We had a great afternoon, and I’m feeling good. It’s going to be a good game.

We get on the ice, and I don’t have to go find Teddy for warm-ups. Another good sign. The entire team looks good, and I’m on top of the world when we go out for our first period.

The game starts and tension is high, probably because of just how many fights we got into in the last one, but without me and Savage trading insults, everyone else keeps it civil enough. They shoot first, but Teddy makes an unbelievable save, and it gives our team even more energy.

We get a couple of shots off too in the first period, but Savage is a good goalie and saves them all.

Going into the second period, I’m determined to score.

I’m all over the puck, and it feels like magic against my stick.

I don’t get an opportunity until late in the second period when I get a fast break.

I charge up the ice to face Savage. I’m wearing the biggest shit eating grin as I fake, and he goes for it.

I slam it into the other side of the goal, and the buzzer sounds.

I throw my hands in the air as Savage straightens back up. I expect him to be pissed, but he’s smirking. Dickbag. He can’t let me have this one thing, can he?

But it doesn’t matter. We are up 1-0, and my team mates surround me.

The second period ends without them getting a goal, so we are flying high when we come out for the third period. Unfortunately, they open the third with an amazing goal by their center. But it’s fine, we have nearly a whole period to make up for it, and we’re playing so well.

I get another break, and I’m not going to mess it up. I get almost to the goal when something catches my eye in the stands. My brain wants to register it as something, but I refuse to break my focus. Savage doesn’t take my fake out bait this time, so it’s me against him.

I shoot and hold my breath.

Before I see if it goes in or not, I’m distracted again by a flicker of gold in the stands. My gaze lifts to the flash directly behind the goal. It’s a ring. One I know well.

That ring has left marks on my skin. I’ve had it bruised into my body, and I’d know it anywhere. I lift my eyes further to his face. My father is standing in the stands, directly behind Savage’s goal. He’s smirking as he claps because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

My teammates gather around me, cheering. I must have scored, but I can’t hear them or anything else as my world narrows around me.

I make Coach take me out, barely sitting on the bench as I try to breathe. A trainer comes to look at me, but I wave them off. I’m fucking trapped in my mind and can rationalize I’m having a goddamn panic attack, but I can’t even get a word out as my body betrays me.

One of them must drag me to the locker room because I find myself there, getting looked over.

“I’m fucking fine,” I force out, needing them to leave me alone.

I pull out of their grasp and stomp away from them.

I don’t want any of them to fucking see this.

I don’t want anyone to know that my body is still terrified of him.

I fucking hate that he can do this to me against my will like I’m still a fucking child.

Massive arms wrap around me, and I fight them.

“You’re okay. I’m here.” Savage’s voice barely makes it past my internal war.

I collapse into him, shaking. He picks me up and carries me somewhere. I don’t fight him. I don’t have the energy.

He puts my hand on his chest. “Can you feel this?”

I nod.

He laces the fingers of our other hand. “Try to copy my breathing.”

His breaths are slow and deep to match them, and I struggle, my body fighting me every step of the way. I play at a fucking elite level in hockey, and I can’t even breathe through a fucking panic attack. Fuck my stupid fucking brain.

I wait for Savage to give up on me. I wouldn’t blame him. Who the fuck wants to sit with someone while they’re having a goddamn panic attack?

But he stays, and slowly, my body gives in to his calm.

I press my face into his shoulder, too fucking embarrassed to look at him. I want to get up, suddenly aware of how ridiculous I must seem in his lap as big as I am. Not like I am Tobi sized. I try to move, but he doesn’t release me, and I’m too exhausted to struggle.

“Are you okay?”

“What the fuck do you think?”

“I didn’t know he was here. I’m sorry,” Savage whispers against my temple.

“I never thought it was your fault.” My words come shaky, and I hate myself for being this weak. “Fuck. This isn’t your job. I’m not a fucking child anymore.”

I fight him again, but he releases my wrist and wraps an arm around my shoulders, forcing me to stay. “It’s never been my job, but I’m still going to do it.”

“I shouldn’t have let you then, and I can’t be this fucking weak now.”

“It’s not weak,” Savage says sternly. “You can’t control how your body reacts to trauma.”

“But it’s not your fucking responsibility to take care of me.” I’m fighting tears burning in my eyes. I cannot let him see me cry.

“I want to be here.”

It suddenly occurs to me. “Did you leave the fucking game?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the fucking goalie.”

“And? I have a handful of games left before I’m done. This was more important.”

“Go back out there.”

“No.” There is amusement in his voice that makes me pick my head up.

“What is so fucking funny?” I demand. “You need to be with your team!”

“If you think I’m going to be anywhere else, you’ve lost your fucking mind. I may leave briefly later to kill your father, but that’s about it.” He’s deadly serious.

“Why?”

“Why the fuck not?”

“That’s your team. You should be there finishing the game. You’ll probably win with me off the ice.”

He grabs my jaw stopping me from going on. “You’re more important than hockey.”

“Why?” I still don’t get it. “I’m just your step-brother, the one who’s hurting your mom and who you have to share with your boyfriend. None of that should make you want to be here for me like this. Nor make me want to lose it in front of you.”

Savage rolls his eyes. “Tobi was right. Hockey players are dumb as fuck.”

“You’re also a hockey player!” I throw back. “And why the fuck would I want to have a meltdown in front of you?”

“I’ve always cared about you. You may not get it, but when I’d take care of you as a kid, I cared, and I do now, too. More so, actually.”

“Why?” I still don’t understand.

“You think I’m going to let anything happen to someone Tobi loves? I think fucking not.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about? To earn points with Tobi?” I should have fucking known. “I get it. Just like the flirting.” He does it all because it makes Tobi happy.

“No, I just fucking told you that I’ve cared since we were kids. Do you not fucking listen?” Anger flashes in his eyes.

“Okay, fine. Whatever. Thank you.” Again, I try to get up.

He grabs my jaw, bringing us nose to nose. “You think I flirt with you because it makes Tobi happy?”

“Obviously. Why else would you do it?”

“It made Tobi happy on the way over here when he wasn’t around?”

“You like to push my buttons and keep the game up. It’s not like you’re going to turn it off.” I don’t get what point he thinks he’s making.

He brushes his lips over mine, stopping every thought I have in their tracks. “I flirt with you because I like how you react to me. I like how nervous and turned on you get.”

“Fuck.” I kiss him back, and the bastard smirks into my lips, but I don’t care.

He pulls me properly into his lap, and the dam breaks. I want to feel fucking all of him. I’m so strung out on emotions, I need to feel good, and Savage wanting me feels like a light at the end of a tunnel I didn’t even know I was in.

We have way too much gear on for this, and we both start ripping it off each other.

There is no softness like we have with Tobi.

This is pure carnal need. We get down to our compression shirts and jocks rubbing up against each other to get as much friction possible.

My cock is straining out of the top of my jock, begging for him to touch me.

Finally, I grab his hand and put it there.

He smirks against my lips again, breaking the kiss to glance between us. “You have such a nice dick.”

“I need you to fucking touch me.”

He obliges too easily, wrapping his hand around my cock. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck you.” My head falls back as he strokes.

“I want to taste you. You’ve gotten to taste me, and I think payback is warranted.” He drags his teeth over his lip.

“I thought you were going to fuck my mouth.” I don’t even care which happens first, I just need him to keep touching me.

“I want to make you come.”

“Well, you better hurry up. The game is going to be over soon, so we don’t have much time.”

“Stand up.” He helps me get to my feet before pressing his face into my groin, tongue snaking out to lick my tip.

“Oh, fuck!” I am not going to last long.

Savage tucks his fingers into the straps of my jock, pulling it down while he nips at my hip.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” I say as he wraps his lips around my head.

“I never asked you to—”

“Ambrose?” Tobi calls. “Savage?”

Tobi pulls open the door as I jump back. There is no amount of scrambling that will make up for the sight in front of him or explain away what this is.