“You down for some takeout?” I chirp at him.
“Possibly after a shower,” he laughs.
His innocent laugh simmers in the air, and for a moment I imagine what it would be like to live with the sun, embrace the strange, warm comfort of him under the ultraviolet rays.
Chapter 17
Austin
Theroomisdarkand reminiscent of our musk from last night. Light is beginning to peep in through the windows. I can’t miss practice today. Drew smoothed things over with Coach, put together some story that bought us some time, but that goodwill won’t last forever.
Drew parades around like he’s the big bad wolf, but the more I get to know him, the answer is simpler. He’s never had someone to show him what comfort is. Not the physical fucking, but the true grace of someone not wanting to be with him for being a legend on the ice. To love him for who he is, the soft man behind his ink and venomous eyes.
He doesn’t need another hookup or another conquest. He needs someone to love him for who he is, not for the pucks that he blocks.
To tell you the truth I feel the entropy between us, the chaos of molecules rumbling back and forth. Attempting to harmonize for an element forged out of denial and lust.
And how can I forget, he’s a fricking god in the sheets, confident and ruthless, everything that Charlie isn’t. A viper with rapturous cream, a poison I simply can’t resist.
But at the same time, I can sense him allowing me in. Slowly infiltrating his force field of darkness, letting in slivers of light one toothy smile at a time.
A person can only go on for so long, before they snap. I couldn’t imagine how long he’s been on this with the mentality. Torturing Charlie for decades, when he just needed someone to focus on. Someone to love.
He shifts in the sheets next to me, those dark eyes blinking awake. “Hey sleepy boy, how are you feeling?”
“Like an all-star.” I admit, sheepishly.
After he fell asleep, I watched his chest rise and fall, how gentle he looked when he wasn’t on the hunt. A man resting so peacefully, after catching his prey. His snakes at rest.
“Swell, you fucking deserve it. Every bit of rest the world can provide.”
“I wish I could sleep all day, next to you…” I groan, burying my head into the pillow. “But practice. The team is going to be wondering where the hell I’ve been.”
Drew smirks, propping himself on his side, that mullet spiking out like a dark halo outlining his skull. “Well I’ll be there watching you in the stands, making sure nobody gives a bloody problem. You got your first game in a couple days huh?”
His tone is slightly teasing, but also serious. The same one that used to scare me paired with those slithering snakes that paint his arms. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was serious. I could definitely picture him hopping down onto the turf and landing a kick to someone’s balls without a second thought.
“Yeah we got the Wisconsin Cheeseheads coming up. It’s going to be tough a border-battle. It always is. Fans might burn down the stadium if we lose.”
He chuckles, as if that would bring pleasure to his soul. The fans grabbing Molotov cocktails, glass shattering in a riot of rage.
“Then don’t lose, Lover Boy. Show them what kind of magic you got in those buns. Let them see how much horsepower those quads have. Remember you are with a legend now.”
His words send weird pings of joy through me. “Oh really, when did that conversation happen?”
“In my head.” He snickers, his arm wrapping around my torso, squeezing the edge of my nipple ever-so delicately. A sensation so euphoric, I could explode.
“After you get my name branded into your skin tonight, you’ll be mine—forever and always,” he growls, lips nuzzling my ear.
Am I fucking crazy that I don’t want to say no? That I actually want his signature blazed into my skin… A permanence that can’t be revoked. It’s insane and reckless… and yet the thought drives me wild.
“You got a place lined up?” I ask, like I’m already consenting to his crazy fucking idea.
“Oh baby, don’t you worry about that,” he purrs, offering me his tenderness. “Let’s get you to practice before they boot your pretty arse from the roster.”
I sigh, rolling my shoulders. “Ugh. I suppose.”
How the hell am I going to focus on routes and catching the ball, when my mind is dead set on Drew Evans.
