Will: I’m definitely coming…
Will: But I need the hoodie, like now.
Will: They’re doing promo shots for the fundraiser or something? And the PR lady wants us all in our white hoodies. She messaged us, but I forgot to grab it.
Will: Is there any way you could bring it by? I’d be eternally grateful.
I look at my notes again, and my eyes start to glaze over. Yep, I’m done for the day. And can I walk to my place, grab the hoodie, and meet him at the rink in the middle of the day? Yeah, actually, I can.
Mel: Sure thing. See you in 15.
Will: You’re awesome. I owe you one.
I’d say I could think of some very creative and mutually satisfying ways he could repay me, but I don’t want to lead him on. The fact is Will is very tempting. I’ve gotten way too used to having him in my life. And if this week goes the way I think it will, I’m going to have a very hard time walking away from him.
My place is on the edge of campus closest to the sports complex, so it takes almost no time to pluck the hoodie from my drawer and walk back to the arena. I walk in and head toward the locker room, where I figure everyone’s getting ready for the photo shoot.
But as I make my way down the long corridor, it’s quiet—way quieter than it should be.
I know some of the guys are pranksters, but would they go so far as to arrange a fake photo shoot?
Mel: I’m in the hall with your hoodie. Where is everyone?
Will: Be right there.
Two seconds later, he appears, handsome as ever in low-slung sweats, socked feet, and nothing else. His hair is damp from the shower, and his skin glistens. God, he really is beautiful, especially when he turns that smile on me—not the magazine-ready one, no, that’s for public consumption. I’m talking about the shy half-smile he gives me, the one that only I get to see.
“Hey,” he says, walking toward me and wrapping me in a hug. I reach up for a kiss. This is what I’m going to miss if we go our separate ways—when, when we go our separate ways.
“Where’s the photoshoot?” I ask, peering around the corner. I don’t hear or see any of the other guys.
“There is no photoshoot,” Will says plainly.
“So, you didn’t need the hoodie?”
“Nope. But I needed you, and the hoodie was just part of my scheme.”
“Scheme, huh? What do you need me for?” I ask.
“This,” he says, taking my hand and leading me down another hallway. This one’s a little shorter, and it dead-ends with a double-doored closet which Will opens with a key and steps into.
“It’s our laundry room and where they keep all the clean uniforms and T-shirts and stuff,” he explains as I look around. Sure enough, there’s a shelf full of white hoodies identical to the one I just walked home to get.
He points behind us, and I look to see a desk cluttered with piles of clothing and what looks to be an industrial sewing machine.
“That’s for embroidery and putting our names and numbers on our jerseys.”
“This little tour is fascinating,” I say, because it kind of is, “but why did you need me to come all the way down here?”
“Because the coaches are at a conference in D.C. today. They won’t be back for at least an hour. And practice doesn’t start for an hour and a half. And almost no one comes into the gym or locker room for another half hour or so, but Ollie’s unpredictable as shit, so you never know. And the equipment manager has class until four. And he gave me his key.”
“Okay…you’re being kinda cryptic… Why, exactly, am I here? Are we pranking someone?”
“We aren’t pranking anyone,” Will says, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on my lips. He takes his hoodie from my hands, tosses it to the floor, then drops to his knees in front of me. “You’re here because I missed you,” he says, gripping my hips. “And because I wanted to see you. And because I want to fuck you with my tongue until you can’t stand up straight. Does that answer your question?”
Damn. “Yes. Yes, it does.”
“Plus, I needed the hoodie cause this floor is made of cement. I gotta kneel on something,” he tells me, toying with the button on my jeans and tracing his hand across my bare flesh.
