Chapter 2 #2
“Wednesday. The team travels home on Tuesday and then has a home game two days later,” he said.
“Will the team be there then?” My pulse flip-flopped. If Evan were, could I make him curious? Why was I entertaining devious thoughts about him? It wouldn’t happen.
“Some of them, I’m sure. I don’t know the specifics. Only that we’ll be entertaining the guests from seven to nine.” He chuckled. “I already told Lily we’d do it.”
“Of course you did.” He knew he could talk me into anything. I took a deep breath. “Now, get your ass over here so we can work on this song.”
“Yes, sir.” He barked a laugh. “See you in an hour. And please, shower before I get there? Last time you were ripe.”
“Fuck off. I’ll shower.” I’d feed Bean and then shower. After drinking more water, I said, “Later.”
“Later.” He ended the call.
Bean jumped through the doggy door, trotted to me, and sat at my feet.
Yeah, he was hungry. “Don’t worry, I know what you want.” I scratched him behind the ears and then grabbed his bowl, resting at the end of the kitchen island.
“No, like this. I want a harsher sound.” I flicked my hair off my face and strummed a few chords in a quick rhythm while I sat on a rolling desk chair in the studio, focused on Drew, sitting on the sofa.
His bass guitar was slung across his lap and his brown hair fell into his face as he thumped the strings with his fingertips.
“Like this?” His blue-eyed gaze met mine.
“Yeah.” I huffed. Th song still wasn’t right, but we’d been at this for two hours and it wasn’t gelling. “Let’s take a break, huh?” I stood and set my guitar on its stand. “Beer?” It was a decent time for a first drink, not too early.
“Hell, yes.” After setting his guitar on a stand, he followed me through the main room and into the kitchen. “I’m surprised you don’t have a beer fridge in the studio.” With a quick chuckle, he stopped behind me.
“I’ve thought about it, but it’d be too tempting.” I opened the refrigerator, pulled out two canned beers and handed him one. “You know I need to keep a lid on my drinking. I don’t want to end up like my mom.” I winced as my chest twinged. Fuck, shouldn’t have brought that up.
“She was always nice to me.” He snicked his beer open and sipped it. “It’s too fucking bad, man. If she’d gotten her shit together and left that dude, maybe—”
“She’d still be alive? Fuck.” I shook my head and drank my beer. We’d gone over this a million times. It still hurt, but less every day. Yes, where she’d shown Drew kindness, she’d failed immensely as a mother.
“Is the fucker still at Monroe prison?” He rounded the couch in the main room and dropped in as Bean jumped onto it.
“No. They transferred him to a higher-security place. Washington State Penitentiary. I don’t know when.
” I’d kept my eye on Larry, the fucker who shot my mother in the chest and ended her life, but just so I’d know if they ever let him out.
If they did…I had plans. I had money, the kind that could buy you things.
Like assassins. But I’d never mentioned this to Drew. He’d talk me out of it.
“So, tell me about this song we’re working on. Maybe it’d help if I knew what inspired it.” He petted Bean, snuggling up beside him.
What had inspired it? Evan? That’s when the melody had popped into my head. “Don’t laugh.” I dropped in next to him.
“Why would I laugh?” He lowered his brows. “Oh no, did you meet someone last night? You snuck into that bar in Scottsdale, didn’t you?”
“I did, and maybe.” I sipped my beer and then tucked it between my thighs, which were covered in sweatpants.
With a slow smirk, I said, “I met a hockey player last night. He usually plays for the AHL team, the Firebirds, but he’s been called up to the Coyotes for the playoffs. ” There, I’d admitted it.
His brows snapped up. “Dude, you didn’t. No wonder it was so easy to talk you into the charity gig.” Shaking his head, he scoffed a laugh and then eyed me. “Wait, is he queer? A lot of guys on that team are, but they have partners. I can’t believe there are more.”
“He says he’s straight. I don’t know.” I fingered the pull tab on my beer. “But he gave off some queer vibes.” I crept my gaze to his.
“Is he a big fan of the band? Maybe he was fanboying on you.” He tipped his beer back.
With a shrug, I said, “Yeah, he said Sudden was a favorite song of his.” Leaning toward him, I petted Bean’s back. The traitor, sitting with Drew and not me.
“I don’t think the entire team will attend. It sounds like they’re bringing in a few of the star players, but nothing more.” He glanced toward the patio doors. “It’s a nice day. Maybe we should call Jax to come over and have a little swim party.”
“I haven’t heated the pool. It’s freezing in there.” I scoffed. The water would be cold as hell for another month. “But a beat from Jax might help improve this song.” We’d gone through a few drummers over the years, and so far, Jax was the best one yet. I gulped some beer down.
“Yeah, okay.” He sank into the couch. “I see you’re in a working mood.”
With a quick chuckle, I said, “The songs won’t write themselves.”
After an evening of jamming with the guys, we’d made progress on the new song, eaten delivery pizza for dinner and they’d left.
For whatever reason, I was itching to learn more about Evan.
Would he be at the charity event? If he were absent, maybe someone there would know him, and I could put out some feelers.
I’d been so fucking stupid, not getting his number.
But he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in hooking up.
However, it did not mean he couldn’t be a friend. Not that I had many friends…
Standing in the kitchen, I stared out the patio doors into another dark evening with Bean standing at my feet, panting.
I should go to bed. In fact, I should go to bed and not do what I’d been planning all night, but my impulse control was terrible.
Plus, it had been a few days, and I was horny as fuck.
With a smirk, I dropped my gaze to Bean.
“What do you say you sleep in your kennel tonight, like you’re supposed to?
” I’d been a bad dog dad and let him sleep in the studio last night.
“Come on.” Patting my thigh, I enticed him to follow me into his bedroom.
Once there, I settled him in his kennel and strolled down the hallway toward my bedroom.
As I stepped closer to my bed, my pulse kicked up a notch.
I shouldn’t do this, but I fucking had to.
There had to be a way to get this hockey player out of my head.
Throwing myself onto my bed, I rested my shoulders on the pillows at the headboard and slipped my phone from my sweatpants pocket. After opening Instagram, I ran a search for Evan Crosby. An account popped up with a guy in hockey gear. Bingo. I tapped on it.
Images displayed Evan during games, on the ice, plus several shots of him sporting suits or casual wear while socializing.
I paused at a photograph of him and another man in a bar.
This other man was attractive, even in his conservative polo with his preppy brown hair and gorgeous green eyes.
The photo showed Evan’s arm around the other man’s shoulders as they both smiled into the camera.
Where were they? Was it a place he frequented often? I zoomed in closer, taking stock of the background. There were televisions hanging on the walls, with a football game playing. An ASU game? Did he have friends there?
Huffing a sigh, I dropped the phone to my side and rubbed my eyes. Fuck, college was foreign to me. I’d barely graduated from high school. But then, so was playing a sport. I’d never even played in Little League. Mom could never…fuck it.
I lifted my phone to my face again and opened a porn site. This was more like it. Forget all that other shit. I scrolled through some videos, but nothing grabbed my attention. The calendar…
With a corner of my lips lifting, I reopened the photo of Evan from the website and opened my nightstand drawer. I refused to dwell on this.
After grabbing my lube, I lowered my sweats and briefs to my thighs, slathered lube on my hand and slowly stroked my swelling cock, running my gaze across Evan’s thick biceps, his perky nipples, all pink and perfect.
“Fuck…” Sweeping my tongue across my lips, my breath quickened, and I stroked faster. Damn, he did it for me. My gaze set on his six-pack, and the “V” between his hip bones. It was amazing the way it tucked into his hockey pants. How big was his cock? He had large hands…
As my dick twitched in my palm and precum dribbled from the tip, I groaned and rocked my hips. This was only a photo. What if it were real? What if he were here with me? Biting my lip, I imagined his messy brown head of hair bobbing at my hips, his wet hot mouth sucking me in, his tongue flicking—
“Oh, fuck,” I rasped, arching my back as a surge of pleasure swept through me. Sparks lit behind my eyes and my balls unloaded, spurting ropes of cum across my chest. As my body spasmed with release, I panted and stroked faster, squeezing my cock at the tip.
When it slowed, I dropped my phone on the bed and shut my eyes.
Holy fuck, that was good. But I shouldn’t have done that.
If I ever saw him again…fuck, I’d never see him again.
He wasn’t a star player, so he probably wouldn’t be at the charity event.
But when the calendar arrived in the mail, I’d have to wrap it in plastic.
I let out a soft snort. I could be so bad.
At least now I was satiated enough for sleep.