Page 18 of Cross Checking


Font Size:

“Wow,” he says, with more surprise than I was expecting. “It smells nice in here.”

I cock my head. “Did you expect my house to stink?” Luke dodges me as I try to bonk him in the head with my stick again. “Who do you think I am?”

He lets out a noise that’s half-huff, half-laugh. “Okay, in my defense, every hockey player’s house I’ve been to smelled like unfiltered ass. Don’t blame me for my prior trauma.”

“The difference,” I start, pointing to myself, “is that this hockey player is gay. That has to mean something, right?”

Luke shakes his head. “Nah. I’m not sure if that makes a difference…” he trails off, catching himself.

I fix Luke with a questioning stare, and he blushes. “Luke, how many gay hockey players’ houses have you been to?”

He stays silent.

“Come on,” I prod, jabbing him in the side.

“Shut up. Just one before yours, I swear. What are you trying to say, anyway?” he asks. He sounds serious, but his eyes give him away.

“Do you have a thing for hockey players?”

He turns as red as a radish, so I might have read him right.

“I have alimitedhistory,” he admits. “But to be fair, I was into you before I knew that you play hockey.”

“You’re into me?” I ask automatically, as if he didn’t tell me a few seconds ago.

Luke grins at me. “Oh, I’m sorry, do I need to suck your dick again to prove it?” He theatrically drops to his knees, his face hovering dangerously close to my crotch. That alone is enough to make me weak—if I wasn’t so sore from the game, I’d lean forward in an instant.

“It’s already been made clear that I’m not the world’s most observant person, not to mention awkward,” I say, sinking down onto the bed.

Even if Lukedoeshave a huge thing for hockey players, at least he’s being a decent guy. I’ll take what I can get.

Luke squeezes my shoulder before freezing. “Shoot, I haven’t showered and I smell bad,” he says, lifting an arm and giving himself a cursory sniff. I don’t miss the way his arm flexes as he brings it up, and my mouth goes dry.

“You smell fine, but go ahead and rinse off. Spare towels and travel toothbrushes are under the sink, and you can use whatever products you find.” Rising to my feet, I walk over to the bathroom to prepare it for Luke, but my thigh throbs.

Luke notices and tilts his head. “Lie down and relax while I shower. I can take care of all that.”

“Sounds good.” When Luke is in the bathroom, I painfully strip down to my boxer briefs and put on an old shirt.

He emerges a few minutes later with a towel hanging on his hips, and damn, that’s one hell of a view. My cock firms up, and then I realize I should offer Luke some clothes because he probably doesn’t want me to perv on him.

“Let me get you a shirt or something,” I say. I roll over to reach for the drawers under my bed, only for my leg to protest, and I try to cover the entire distance with my arms.

“Hey, you don’t need to,” Luke tells me. “I’m good to stay in a towel if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Comfortable? Covering your body should be a crime.”

“You won’t catch me in prison, then,” he says, straddling my waist. The fabric parts at the bottom, and if Luke wasn’t putting pressure on my thighs, I’d rip that towel off in an instant. Instead, I wince.

Fuck. Luke probably came over expecting another hookup. I’m the usual post-game mix of tired, buzzing, and horny, but my body is in no state to perform. Not at all.

I take a sharp breath and prepare to disappoint Luke. “Sorry, my legs are killing me after the game. I don’t know if I can do that much tonight.” His face isn’t giving anything away, and he jumps off.

I brace myself for Luke to head out.

Instead, he surprises me and settles on my right. “I saw. That must have hurt like hell.”

“Spot on.Andmy massage gun broke.”