Page 50 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

“Andre, I need you to tell me right now what’s wrong.” Swallowing hard, he hands me his phone. It takes a minute to understand what I’m looking at, but when I do I feel numb.

No. No fucking way!

I grip his phone hard in my hand with a picture of us on some trashy fucking gossip site.

Enemies to Lovers: Hockey’s Hottest Rivals Heat Up Off and On the Ice!!

It’s the two of us from last night. Andre kissing me on my doorstep.

Fuck! I didn’t even think. I was in shock, seeing him on my doorstep after not speaking to me.

Whoever took this must have followed him into my fucking yard.

“Oli, I’m so fucking sorry.” His head falls into his hands, and sobs shake him.

I don’t know what to do. For the first time ever I’m lost. I have no clue how to fix this.

But Andre is depending on me to, and I won’t leave him like I did when Grey found us. I’m done running. Whatever happens going forward happens to both of us. Together.

“Greyson’s on his way over. Please get dressed.” Andre’s face pulls from his hands. “My clothes are in that dresser. Pick what you want.” I feel numb. I feel like the world around me is crumbling and I have no clue how to stop it. I don’t know how to fix this.

“Oli.” I turn to him. I don’t know what to do. Fuck, I’m still naked! My mind is a mess. I can’t focus on one thing. “What are we going to do?”

I hate myself but I have no answers for him. Not one time during this thing with Andre did I think I’d have to face the public. I’m not even sure what’s happening myself. How am I supposed to explain this to my fans, to our public, when I can’t even explain it to myself?

And why the fuck should I?

Why is my personal life anyone’s fucking business? “I don’t know.” The room feels like it’s spinning. Running my fingers through my hair, I focus on what I need to do. My doorbell rings. Fuck. Still naked.

I cup his face in my hands, begging him to look at me. “Can you answer that please? Only if it’s Jessica, Grey, Atlas, or Coach. That’s it. You know what . . . not if it’s Coach. I’m not ready to die yet.”

Andre laughs a little with a nod and gets up, and I don’t even get a chance to admire the way my sweats fit his gorgeous ass. This’ll be fine, right? What are they going to do? Kick me off the team? While we are few and far between, I’m not the only queer player in the game.

I pause. Oh my fucking god. This is the first time I’ve said it. Thought it. I am, though, right? Still, I don’t really care about the label. It’s meaningless. Who I’m with is literally only my business and my partner’s.

No .

It’s only Andre’s and my business.

I focus on what I can control right now, and that is not having my dick swinging when my best friends and agent come over. Grabbing a pair of jeans and boxers, I pull them on, then find a black shirt and tug it down over my head.

Taking a giant breath, I walk down my stairs.

I instantly relax seeing Grey and Atlas sitting at the island.

Atlas isn’t looking at me, but he’s stewing.

I can see it. Atlas is doing that bratty pinched thing with his lips he does when he gets pissed.

Grey’s sympathetic eyes land on me. “So,” I say. “What’s up?”

Atlas barks out a laugh, shaking his head, then must remember he’s mad at me and pinches his lips again. “You have balls, dude.”

I glance at Andre, who looks like he wants to peel the fucking skin from his body.

Fuck it, everything is out now, and I don’t want to hide anymore.

Grey already knows, and if I’m not mistaken I see a little bit of hurt in Atlas’s eyes.

I walk over to Andre, cupping his face and turning it to me.

His eyes are still shining. “This doesn’t change shit, you hear me?

” My thumb runs along his cheekbone. “I fucked up before, but I’m not leaving you now.

Okay?” I wait for him to answer. He nods, then pulls his face out of my hold.

I know he doesn’t believe me, but I’m going to prove it.

“How bad?” I turn to my friends. “Scale of one to Jessica is ready to pluck my eyes and balls from my body and switch them?”

Grey shakes his head. “It’s just a shock to them.”

“And to me.” Atlas glares, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to tell you I was queer and seeing someone, I just didn’t get a chance.”

“This asshole knew and I didn’t.” He swings a thumb to Grey .

“Technically, this asshole let himself into our home and saw us in bed together.” Andre’s gaze whips to mine. “What?” I ask.

“Our?”Andre blinks.

Fuck, did I say that out loud? “Have you called Coach yet?” Grey distracts me.

“No.” That’s honestly the scariest part, but if anyone has an issue with this, I am currently in the give no fucks stage.

Where I put my dick does not affect my game or anyone else’s life.

I have nearly a decade of proof to back this up.

Homophobes are both useless and dumb, and I’m not about to argue and defend myself to ignorant assholes.

Still, I know a shitstorm is most likely headed our way if not already crashing down outside the safety of my home.

Our home.

Coach, fuck, he’s going to kill me.

“I texted Jessica.” Fuck my life. “She’s on the way over. Coach knows I’m here, and I’ll church it up for you a bit, but basically he said he wants both of you down at the rink as soon as Jessica is through with you.”

“She’s going to rip my dick clean off my body,” Andre groans.

“No she won’t. Oli likes it too much.” Atlas laughs, and Grey slaps the back of his head. “Hey! I’m allowed to make jokes seeing as no one here thought I should know! I’m so pissed. Why didn’t you tell me?” Atlas asks.

My eyes go to Grey. I’m not going down alone in this. He must see the question in my eyes because Grey claps Atlas on the back. “I told Oli I’m gay.”

“What?” Atlas shakes his head. “When the fuck was this? Do you guys hang out without me?!” He folds his arms over his broad chest. “You guys better not hang out without me! Andre, Andre.” Andre blinks at my friend. “New bestie. Do you have plans next weekend? I am suddenly free and friendless.”

Grey’s eyes lift to the ceiling. “I told Oli only because I saw him with Andre and I really thought he was about to stroke out. So I told him.”

“So basically we don’t want to tell me shit, huh?” Atlas shrieks. He scrubs his face and peeks up at me, shaking his head. “I can’t believe neither of you told me this was happening. No wonder you’ve been ditching our traditions now.”

“Traditions?” Andre asks.

“After away games, and after drinks with the guys, the three of us usually find some dive to have drinks in,” Grey says. “Or we used to. Oli’s been a little absent the last few games.”

“We could have gone,” Andre says to me. “You shouldn’t ditch them just because of me.”

“Your new boyfriend is smart, Oli. Listen to him,” Atlas says, and my attention snags on the word boyfriend. It sounds so juvenile to me. I’m not even sure what’s going on with us. Andre’s just . . . mine.

What I want to say is that I don’t owe anyone anything, but these are my friends.

As a team we are close, but what I have with Grey and Atlas goes beyond friendship.

They’re my brothers. “I’m sorry. I’m still learning what this all means.

” Atlas takes a look at Andre, and I realize now how quiet he’s been.

Sitting down, I grab his hand in mine. “What’s wrong? ”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs bitterly. “What’s wrong? I fucking outed you to the goddamn world.”

“Eh, technicality. That photographer did. They stalked you,” Grey adds .

“I shouldn’t have kissed you outside. I wasn’t thinking. I should have checked the gate, I just—”

“Hey.” I stop him from spiraling, demanding his attention. “What happened is not your fault. I don’t know what’s going to happen but—”

“Oh good, both of you are here. I don’t have to go to Andre’s to smack the absolute shit out of him!

Two for one.” Jessica stomps into my living room, her white slipper boots thundering across my kitchen floor.

Her normally perfectly styled hair is tossed into a messy bun.

She looks . . . disheveled. She takes note of Atlas and Grey, shaking her head.

“Boys,” she greets them. We all stare at her.

I mean, what the fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything but a pantsuit or pencil skirt. “What?!” she snaps.

“Cute PJs.” Atlas grins.

If looks could kill, we’d all be obliterated. She puts a hand on her hip, right on the pink silk PJs with little candy hearts all over them. “I’ve been calling you since six in the fucking morning. This is my day off!”

“I’m sorry, we slept in.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you got your beauty sleep, Oli.” Her lips pinch and I’m afraid to move, or breathe. “What, and I say this with love, THE FUCK!”

Grey stands, holding up his hands. “You can’t be mad at them because they’re queer, that’s not—”

“What the fuck do I look like to you?” Oh, she is so mad .

She closes her eyes, holding out her hands and taking a deep breath.

“Let me start this again.” She pulls out my bar stool, hopping up onto it.

She puts her bag on my counter, then pulls her giant fluffy pink sweater down.

“Someone get me coffee. Now!” We all get up—move—and instantly organization gets the best of us as we bump into each other. “Stop!” she shouts.

We all freeze.

“Reggie isn’t this mean,” Atlas whispers.

“That’s because Reggie is soft!” She glares.

“There’s a reason why my athletes get paid twenty to thirty percent more.

” Okay yeah, she is right. Jessica’s a hard-ass, but fuck I love her.

She doesn’t take no for an answer and always has my best interests at heart.

We aren’t dollar signs to her, we’re people.

“Oli, get me an iced coffee. Grey, go grab a laptop. Andre, sweetheart—”

“Why does he get a sweetheart?” Atlas pouts.