Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“I’ll fuck you tomorrow. After you get unstanky and gross. You smell like you bathed in tequila and beer.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to remember. “I think … I think at one point I might have spilled my drink on me.”
“Probably more than once,” Anton points out. “And, hey, what happened with your dad? It sounded like an intense conversation.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I’m your boyfriend now, and apparently that means I can force you to talk to me. Cool perks, huh?”
I grumble. “He didn’t like that I stood up to him, obviously. Talking back to a parent in Polish culture is a big no-no.”
“Holy shit. How did you survive teenhood?”
“Easy. I lived with Mom. Dad only ever saw me if he’d come to hockey practice to yell at me. His version of parenting and doing what’s right by his kid was throwing money at the problem and then complaining what a waste it was. Nothing’s really changed, but back then I was a good little boy, and I stood there and took it because he’d threatened to take hockey away from me.” My eyes begin to water, but I push it down. “I don’t need to take it anymore. I made my career. I did. Not him.”
“Is that why you said ‘Fuck You’ to him when you hung up on him?”
“Yep. Wait, you speak Polish?”
“I googled.”
“Wow. We really are together, huh? You googled because you were concerned about me.”
“I was.” Anton cups my cheek. “I am. I could see you were hurting, and I wanted to tell you everything was going to be okay, but you were lashing out at me, and I didn’t know where I stood, and—”
“It was misplaced anger from the game and my dad and the fear that I was going to lose you. I didn’t have the courage last night to put my feelings on the line, but I’d rather tell you a thousand times and have you reject me than lose you because I didn’t have the guts to say six simple words: I want to be with you.” I lower my forehead to his. “I’m sorry.”
Anton breathes in and closes his eyes. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
My cock twitches. “Hot enough to change your mind on the hungover sex?”
“Nope. But maybe some shower handjobs aren’t out of the question.”
I race my boyfriend to the bathroom.
Wow. My boyfriend.
Thirty
ANTON
We lose the next two games, which really tests Ezra’s superstition, but then we hit another streak. The whole team’s game is smooth, but something clicks with Ezra, and the two of us play together like we never have before. It’s easily my best season, but there’s still one thing nagging in the back of my mind.
I want to come out.
Because while my career is at an all-time high and I’m in a relationship that fulfills me in a way that’s caught me completely off guard, not being able to combine the two is wearing thin.
I let my fingers trail along Ezra’s spine, and he shifts in his sleep. We’re both totally naked after a night celebrating, and we leave to fly home in just over an hour.
“Time to wake up, Ez.”
He grunts at me, which is his equivalent of “five more minutes.” Apparently, I can speak Ezra now.
“Nuh-uh. I’m not packing your bags this time.”
“I’d do it for you,” he grumbles.
“And yet, you never have.” I bring my hand down on his bare ass cheek, and it lets out a satisfying crack. Ezra’s back tenses, muscles tightening, and if I had the time, I’d map out every one of them with my mouth.
Ezra finally pushes up onto his elbows and blinks sleepily at me, the vivid blue of his eyes peeking out from behind dark lashes. I run a hand over his rough cheek, remembering how his beard felt on my ass last night, and damn if that doesn’t make me want to go again.
“Okay, get up before I maul you,” I say.
Ezra slowly climbs out of bed. “You coming straight to my place once we’re back?”
“I might head home for a bit. I have some washing and things to do.”
He nods as he heads for the bathroom, and I wonder if I should tell him what’s on my mind. Ezra supports me either way. Whether I’m out or closeted is all the same to him, but I’m finally starting to get what he means about wanting to live by his own rules, not someone else’s. And my rules state I need to take my boyfriend on an actual date.
The problem is, Ezra and I are making it work now. While we’re on the same team, in the same city. I have another year contracted to Boston, and I think Ezra has two, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t be traded or be offered a better contract somewhere else.