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fourteen

Hunter

O n the walk up to Noah’s dorm I keep checking on Mark.

When I’d opened the door, it had looked like he’d been crying.

I know there’s some sort of weird thing with his parents.

They just don’t understand his career choice, which seems unfair.

The way Mark talks about video games, shit, he just lights up.

How could you not support someone you love when they clearly have a passion like he does? “You alright?”

“Yeah,” He smiles at me. “Thanks. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Care to share?”

“Maybe later. I just want to have some fun.” He smiles again, but it’s a bit off. Hopefully I can distract him for a few hours tonight. Mark stops in front of Noah’s door, lifting his hand to knock when the door swings open.

Brown eyes blink back at me.

What the hell?

“Monty?”

Brandon Montague, my fucking winger, and closest friend on the team. His eyes widen. His brown hair is messy, his eyes sleepy. Wearing sweatpants and his team shirt, he looks so uncomfortable. “Uh . . .” Looking down the hall, he checks if we’re alone up here. “Um. Hi.”

“What the fuck are you doing? Is this Noah’s room?” I ask Mark.

Mark snickers. “Yes, it is.”

What the fuck. I’m stunned, too stunned to speak.

“Look . . .” He rubs the back of his head.

“I would really appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this.

” He bites his lip, and his dark eyes plead with me.

“I just don’t want people to know, ya know?

” he whispers. “Not that you . . . shit. I mean, I respect that you—”

“I’m not going to out you.” I look at Mark. “Neither is he. Just go get some sleep. We have a game tomorrow.”

His shoulders visibly relax, the tension leaving his body.

“Thanks, Russi.” He claps me on the back, shutting Noah’s door, and Mark is trying to stifle a laugh as he disappears down the hall.

Although I’m shocked, it makes me feel good in a way.

I’m not the only one. Being out in sports is not easy, and it’s almost like some of that weight lifts a bit with the knowledge that I’m not alone.

“Russi?”

“Nickname.” I smile at Mark, my mind still processing what I just saw.

“Cute.” Mark laughs, softly knocking on Noah’s door. “Noah was right, he is a hockey wife.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Noah is very persuasive.” That comment doesn’t raise as much jealousy as it did before last weekend. Mark knocks on Noah’s door again, and after a minute it swings open. I instantly look away. “Jesus, Noah! Put some pants on!”

Wearing our Hornets hoodie and a tiny black thong, Noah folds his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

“For you to put on pants!”

“Hi, Puck Daddy.” He wiggles his fingers at me. Okay, I’m getting less worried about him and Mark by the second.

“Noah. Put on pants!” Mark pushes him into his room and I follow. I’m honestly afraid for my life stepping in here. Closing the door behind us, I try to look anywhere but Noah’s ass cheeks. Nice ass cheeks, though, I will admit. I am only human! “Noah. Pants!”

“Afraid I’ll steal your man?” He sticks his leg out, posing for me. “Understood. Got it. One sec.” Mark rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed, then a knock sounds on the door. Noah walks over to it, sans pants, and opens the door. Monty stands on the other side looking at all of us.

“Oh, uh—”

“Who are you?” Noah asks.

Monty’s brows pinch then his eyes lift to mine, confused. “I . . . I just left here.”

“I’ve been alone all morning. Alone.”

“You’re . . . You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“This is my hoodie.” I glance up at the hoodie with our logo on it.

“Noah, we just watched him leave the room,” I say.

“What!? Hunter, you let this burglar leave and did nothing!? Mark, we need to talk about your new boyfriend. He clearly won’t protect you if someone breaks into your dorm.”

“The hoodie has my name on it,” Monty says.

“I’ve had this forever,” Noah says.

“Coach gave these out a month ago,” I add. “New logos.”

Noah sighs, stomping his foot. His ass jiggles and I notice the way Monty’s eyes dip down his body. “Monty.” I sigh. “I’ll get you a new hoodie. Just leave it. Save your dignity.”

Monty looks up at me, then back to Noah. “Fine.” He licks his lips, taking one more look at Noah before leaning in and whispering, “Call me later, okay?”

Noah beams before shutting the door hard. Turning to us, he shakes his head. “Hockey players, man. The things he did with his tongue . . . it was one for the play books. Much better than your technique,” he says to Mark.

“Shut up, Noah.”

“I can’t believe you slept with him.” I really can’t. “I didn’t know anyone else on the team was queer.” Not that it’s anyone’s business, I’m just surprised.

“I knew from the second that man went into the naughty box.” Noah smirks. “Then he came here and explored my naughty box.”

“Oh my god. This—” Mark says, stabbing his hands in Noah’s direction. “This is who you’re worried about?” A laugh bubbles out of my throat. I still don’t understand their friendship, but no, I’m not worried.

“Worried about? Me? Aw.” Noah tucks a hair behind his ear. “Puck Daddy, stop it.”

Thankfully, Noah grabs a pair of shorts and pulls them on, keeping the hoodie on as well. “Smells incredible, I swear. He’s my first hockey player, but I am looking to add to the roster. You guys are flexible.”

“We need to be.” Why am I encouraging him? “I mean, please don’t.”

“Mark, take Hunter here for a test drive soon. You will not regret it.” My face heats thinking about last week after the game.

Everything about it was incredible and I can’t wait to do more.

The way he felt in my arms was close to perfection.

The sounds he made, the way he fit so well in my hand.

His soft lips parting, the sharp intake of breath as he came.

Fuck! Okay, this is a dangerous place to pop a boner.

Noah would detect it instantly, I just know it.

Hopefully tonight, if Mark wants to go back to my house after the fair, we could take things a bit further. I’ve already threatened Jamie to be on his best behavior. I was going to ask Mark when I arrived, but he was going through something with his father.

“Noah, if you’re done being insane, we have a question for you.”

Going to his mirror, Noah fixes his hair. “Oh, hello hickey. I love souvenirs.” Grabbing a tube, he dabs lip gloss over his plump lips. “What is it?”

“Do you want to go to the fair with us and Sawyer?”

“Oh, pastry hottie wants a repeat? God, he is cute. A little soft looking, but hot.”

“Soft?”

“Hunter,” Noah sighs. “I like dominant men. Ones who will throw me around without breaking a sweat like Morey did last night.”

“Monty. His name is, uh . . . it’s on the back of the sweatshirt. You know what . . . not important. Either way, it’s not like that. Just hanging out. He’s not even interested like that.”

Noah pouts his bottom lip, his eyes turning up. “That’s cute he thinks so.”

Whatever. “Do you want to come with us?”

Noah thinks for a moment. “Will I be paying for my own ticket?”

“You’re richer than all three of us combined. Yes. In fact,” Mark says. “You’re paying for all of us.”

“I want to be mad, but you just complimented me. A real catch twenty-two.”

“That’s not what that means . . .” Mark shakes his head at me. “Never mind,” I sigh.

“Mm, I suppose.” I don’t think Noah and Sawyer will become great friends from this.

Unfortunately, my best friend has so much shit he has to do daily, he barely has time to breathe.

Tonight will be good for him, though, and it would be nice if our friends could get along.

It’s early, I know, but I want this to work so badly.

I really, really like Mark. He’s just . .

. God, I don’t even know how describe it.

It’s like I just relax when I see him. Like everything that’s stressed me out all day just disappears.

Then it’s just us, talking, teasing, playing games.

Nothing else matters. Being around him lays my stress to bed.

“So . . . what did you two do after the game last night?” Noah grins manically, looking at us.

“We just hung out.”

“Yeah well, we used to hang out also. I’m looking for details.” Noah cocks his head. “Oh! Puck Daddy. Nice job scoring a power play last weekend.”

“You don’t score a power play, you score on . . . You know what? Never mind.”

“What’s up with your goalie?”

“What about my goalie?”

“He was giving me eyes last weekend too. I suggested a threesome with Michael last night—”

“Monty.”

“He wasn’t into it, though.” Noah lowers his voice. “Baby gay,” he whispers. “I was too eager for the gay training wheels to just fall off and to ride that man into the sunset.”

I look up at the ceiling. What have I gotten myself into? “What does that mean . . .” Mark shakes his head. Jesus, okay, never mind. “Do you want to or not?”

“I’m in!” Noah smiles. “When are we leaving?”

Mark stands, about as done with this as I am. “Now, if you can get ready. Sawyer’s going to meet us there.” Then hopefully Mark will come back with me tonight. I have plans—filthy plans—and like Noah said, we are very flexible. I have some tricks I want to teach Mark myself.