Chapter 23 - Theo
Theo
“Eyes up, fellas.” Landon knocked back his shot like it was water. “Pretty soon every woman in here is gonna be asking for my number.”
Mason snorted into his beer. “You fell over your own skates on national television.”
“Artistic choice,” Landon said, his boyish grin dialed to one hundred. “Chicks love a bad boy arc. Builds mystique.”
“They especially love being called chicks,” I muttered.
Tucker twisted on his stool, eyeing Landon like a rash he’d tried to ignore all night. “Who invited the rookie?”
“No one,” I said. “He slithered out of a crack in the wall the way he always does.”
Landon grinned at me, totally unbothered. “Relax, grandpa. And Calder, you might wanna start thinking about life after being the Surge golden boy. Crowns slip.”
“I’ll survive.” Mason lifted his glass in a mock salute. “I never wanted the damn thing to begin with.”
Hunter was the only one unamused by anything all night. He stared into his beer instead of drinking it, and only grunted a laugh once or twice since we’d arrived.
“All I’m saying is…” Landon was still going, “Once we win game 7, they’ll be talking about my breakout series.”
The mention of it brought immediate silence to our table. We’d been dancing around the topic since last night, neither of us up to the task of making Hunter relive out loud what he was obviously beating himself up over in his head.
Except me.
I’d called him after I’d gotten home. He looked like shit walking off the ice after that fumble, and I figured the least I could do was check in on him. Also, I got scared he might break and tell Coach everything.
“Game 7.” Hunter lifted his glass, surprising all of us. “May our sticks be strong, and our blades never waver.”
I clapped him on the back. “Until the final horn.”
Even Landon gave the moment the respect it demanded, and saluted it with the rest of us. “So are the Oilers rumors true?”
The silence that followed his question made me sit up a little straighter.
It sucked missing practices with the guys the past few weeks, because it meant I was more out of the loop than in it.
I caught up with Hunter all right, but it was just one of “had to be there” things that meant I missed out on most things.
“What about the Oilers?” I asked, and all eyes turned to Mason.
He gave in under the pressure, and said, “They’re just rumors. That’s all it is.”
“Not what I heard,” Landon pressed.
I started getting a little antsy with the lack of information, and also wanted to push the topic because it steered us further away from the game we just lost. And Hunter’s role in that.
“Guys, seriously…” I looked from Hunter to Tucker, but it was Landon who finally spilled. He’d probably been dying to.
“Mason’s getting an offer,” he said. “Apparently they’re horny for our golden boy.”
“Just rumors,” Mason said again, smiling into his drink.
The conversation swung to trades, dream teams they would choose to play for if they could… And I just sat there and listened, my gut twisting harder the longer it went on.
Because I wasn’t gonna be fielding any offers from top teams. Shit, with my shoulder, I’d be lucky to land in the minor leagues.
Coach threatened me with a trade, but it was clear he wasn’t talking about anything as flashy as the Edmonton Oilers.
Worse than that, was the reality that I’d probably never get a chance like that, even after I healed up.
“You okay over there, Bouchard?”
I met the question with a stiff smile, desperate to hide the shitshow in my head. “What are you gonna do, Calder? Once the offer lands, I mean?”
Mason shrugged, and took a long sip to avoid answering.
“I’m pretty sure it’ll be a crazy pay jump,” Tucker said, then muffled a burp. “If I were you, I’d take it.”
“It’s not just about money,” Hunter offered. “You gotta think about the move, team chemistry—”
“Careful, Callahan,” Landon said with a smirk. “You’re beginning to sound like our captain. Where is he, by the way?”
“Ran out of free credits with Josie, so he’s stuck giving her alone time.” Tucker passed his bottle around the table to accept the cheers, basking in the rolling laughter.
But Mason grew serious fast. “It’s not about any of those things for me. The Surge is like family. My team is my home. I don’t care who offers what… I’m not going.”
This brought on a round of cheers and slaps on his back, and I managed some sincerity in that. As fucked off as I was feeling.
“What about you, Bouchard?” Landon grimaced through his third shot. The kid could knock ‘em back, that was for sure.
I sighed, already bracing for whatever bullshit he was about to come at me with. “What about me?”
“Oilers want Calder because of his killer season,” he started, “and I heard the amateur league’s been asking about your availability.”
The guys started laughing, but it died pretty quickly after the table shook with how fast I shot out of my seat. I lunged across it, and grabbed Landon up and over by the scruff of his fucking neck. In the background, I heard them yelling my name, telling me to stop.
But I didn’t.
I shoved the kid into the wall so hard his head bounced off it. “Say that again, fuckwad. Say it. Say it again.”
I ignored the screaming pain in my shoulder to punctuate my words with knocking him into the wall over and over.
“Chill the fuck out, man,” Landon choked out. “Can’t you take a joke?”
“Hey—” Hunter tapped me on the arm. “He’s an ass, but he’s a harmless ass.”
I didn’t let go immediately. I tightened my grip instead, watching the little fucker squirm as I glared at him. “You better grow the fuck up, Cross. You’re in the team? Then fucking be in it.”
I pushed away from him with one last shove, and stormed the fuck out. Didn’t turn back when they called after me, or for Landon’s weak-ass apology. My shoulder pounded, and I couldn’t look at the faces of the guys who had everything going for them. Not tonight.
Tonight I wanted to forget about how I’d missed out on the best chances. That I was probably living through the last of my career.
So when Reese swung open her apartment door, I didn’t stop to explain what I was doing there and she didn’t stop me.
A shiver. The first crack in her armor as I kissed her across her living room floor until I had her pressed up against the wall.
Immediately, her hands snaked around my waist, grasping at my shirt as she moaned into my mouth.
Her needy fingers dug into my flesh, sinking deeper with every breathless noise that escaped her as we kissed.
And I fucking loved every second of it.
Nothing in my head but her. Nothing I could touch or taste… but her.
Gently, I sank my teeth into her lower lip before pulling back and trailing kisses down her neck.
“Th— Theo.”
I pressed my knee between her legs, grinding hard as I loomed over her. Foreheads touching, ragged breath filling the space between us, I grabbed onto her hips and said, “You know what you want.”
A soft whimper fell from her lips, and she started grinding her pussy against my leg, squeezing me between her thighs. She grabbed onto my shoulders for balance, and I winced, biting back a groan.
“Shit. Sorry.” She kept her hand on my left, and moved the hand from my right shoulder to fist my t-shirt instead.
I pushed it out of my mind. I was here to stop thinking about my injury, and everything stopping me. All I wanted now was to feel forward motion.
“You like that?” I licked her ear, sucking in her lobe until she quivered against me.
“M-More,” she whispered, so close I could feel the puff of her breath on my neck. “I want…”
My fingers were already working their way between us. I leaned back, looking deliberately into her heavy-lidded eyes as I slowly dragged my finger across the seam of her pajama pants.
“This?”
She gave a jerky nod, her breath coming in quick pants when I added more pressure.
A wry smirk curled my lips. “Ask nicely.”
A brief flash of indignance crossed her face before crumpling into desperation.
“I— fuck. Theo. Oh, God.” She pressed herself even harder onto my thigh. “I want to feel you. I… I need to feel you. Please.”
Heat pooled low in my stomach. My voice was barely more than a choked-up whisper when I said, “Jesus, Reese, you sound so good when you ask me like that.”
I pulled my knee from between her legs, steadying her as she faltered by the shift in support. Her pants were pooled at her ankles in a breath, and I had every intention of driving my fingers into her. But I had to stop. Had to pause.
She wore a thin, white pair of underwear with a visible patch of wetness seeping through the light fabric.
My dick twitched.
“What are you waiting for?” Her voice came out all throaty and soaked in desire.
I hooked my thumb inside the band of her underwear, tugging them down her thighs. She leaned back against the wall and shifted her legs apart, giving me a full view of her glistening pussy.
My breath came hard, broken, as I ran a finger along the seam of her pussy. I watched her closely. Her breathing. The way her eyes fell closed. How she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Then, and only then, did I slowly push inside, making us both groan.
She was tight and slick, and my finger easily sank right in. I curled it inside her, relishing the shudder that wracked through her body at the motion.
“So fucking wet for me.” I pulled out and teased her clit, then thrust into her again.
“A— all your fault.”
I pulled out leaving only the tip of my finger, then added another before pressing smoothly back inside, stretching her wider. And God, the way her pussy opened for me…
“Uhhhnnn— Theo… Ffffuuuh…”
The sound of her wetness floated up and around us as I pumped my fingers in and out, deep into her pussy. She trembled and flexed around my fingers, punctuating each thrust with a breathy moan or needy whine as I continued to work myself inside her.
All at once, she let out a cry of frustration, neediness dripping from the edges of her voice. “I— I can’t. I want… m— more.”