Chapter 13
LUCAS
After watching the footage of the Grizzlies’ last game, we packed onto our charter bus in our suits and headed for the stadium. Sitting next to Crosby, I twisted my phone in my hand.
“Why the hell were you in the bathroom for so long?” Crosby side-eyed me.
“You really want to know?” With a sly grin, I raised my brows. Dating a guy proved to be lots of fun, at least more fun than the girls I’d dated. Ezra was ready and willing for anything.
He narrowed his eyes. “On second thought, no. I’m pretty sure I know the answer to that.” He focused on the front of the bus. “As long as it helps your game, I’m all for it.” He slapped my thigh and quirked a grin.
“I’m sure it will.” I settled into my seat and stuffed my phone into the breast pocket of my jacket. The pregame jitters ran circles in my gut. I just wanted to be on the ice already.
Midway through the second period, we led by one goal. Crosby had the puck and passed it to me. I shuffled down the boards, bracing myself. Glancing at the Grizzly goalie, my body slammed into the boards and I fell on my ass. “Fuck.” I knew it.
Hopping onto my skates, I chased the Grizzly center, toward our goal. The fucker was one of the best in the league and I didn’t want him getting past Gagnon.
The center passed to his winger, skating close to the crease, and Gagnon went down onto his leg pads, his arms spreading wide.
“Not today, fucker!” I threw myself onto the ice, sliding toward the goal on my belly.
The winger shot.
Pain cut through the side of my head, my ears ringing. “Jesus, fuck.” I grabbed my ear and rolled on the ice. The puck hit my helmet.
Play stopped and Gagnon crouched next to me. “Hey, man, you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I blinked a few times, my vision hazing and returning. I rose onto my hands and knees. Where the hell had my stick gone? Don’t have a concussion, don’t have a—
“Hopkins, let me check you out.” Our trainer, Harrison, came into view, sitting on his legs, his hand planting on my shoulder. He held up his hand with two fingers spread. “How many fingers?”
“Two.” I fought to focus on him. I had to get back into the game.
With a slow smirk, he said, “What day is it?”
“Wednesday.” I eyed him. Would he let this go?
“Let’s get you up and tell me if you have any nausea.” Grabbing my arm, he helped me to stand.
Crosby skated by and stopped. “You okay, man? That was a hell of a save, knocking the puck away with your head.” He chortled.
“Yeah, whatever.” I did what I had to do. I peeked at Harrison. “What do you think? Can I play?” I had the best damn helmet money could buy.
“Nope. Per protocol, any hits to the head take you out for the rest of the game. I want you checked out by the team doc and then we’ll see about the next games.”
“Fuck.” I knew that. Didn’t mean I couldn’t hope. “Okay.” Hanging my head, I skated off the ice. “It’s up to you guys now.” I shouted at the guys on the bench.
Coach Sullivan patted me on the back as I walked past him. “You did a great job out there. Go let the doc examine you.”
“Thanks, Coach.” With a sharp sigh, I made my way through the tunnel. This sucked.
That evening, I was resting on my bed in my hotel room with my phone in my hand. Despite Ezra’s worry and text about the hit, I couldn’t find the time to call him. I dialed his number.
The call barely rang before it picked up. “Lucas? Are you okay?”
With my chest warming, I said, “Yeah, I’m okay. There are no blaring signs of concussion, but the team doc wants me to take a few days off the ice just in case.” So, I’d be hitting the gym instead of the rink until our next home game.
“Oh, good. I can’t believe you got a puck to the head. Are you supposed to throw yourself in front of the goal like that?”
“Yeah, it happens. It’s not always the smartest decision, but in this case, it worked.” The game had been close, but we’d won in overtime. As the door cracked open, I glanced toward it.
Crosby ambled into the room with a beer bottle in his hand. Holding his fist over his head, he whooped. “We won!” He stumbled and righted himself.
“Fuckin’ A, how much did you drink?” With a chuckle, I shook my head. The guys had a celly in the hotel bar downstairs. But of course, I wasn’t supposed to be drinking.
“Enough.” With a crooked smile, he gulped some beer down. “You talking to your boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” My eyes widened. Fuck, did Ezra hear that? “Um, why don’t you go back down there? It’s still early.” Usually, the cellys lasted most of the night if we didn’t play the next day.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stepped toward me and giggled. “The guys are calling you Iron-Clad Hopkins down there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course they are.” With a huff, I held my phone to my ear. “Sorry, Ezra, Evan’s hammered already and bugging me. It’s what he does.”
“Oh, I’m bugging you?” He lifted his index finger from his beer glass, pointing it at me. “Sorry…” He fell sideways onto my bed. “Hey Ezra, I hope you know what you’re getting into with him.”
I tossed Evan a glare. “Shut up.” I didn’t need him putting any shit into Ezra’s head.
“Oh? Put me on speaker, Lucas,” Ezra said.
“Shit.” I tapped the speaker button and held the phone out. This was probably a bad idea. “Ezra, remember Evan is shitfaced.”
“I’m not that bad.” Evan scoffed and scooted up next to me at the headboard. “Ezra, I’ve never seen my boy Lucas here so enamored with anyone before.” The corner of his lips edged up. “You put a spell on him or some shit?”
“That’s good to know, Evan. Thank you,” Ezra said.
“Okay, that’s all I wanted to say.” Evan shimmied off the bed and staggered toward the door. “You both behave now and no phone sex. Lucas has to rest and getting his heart rate up isn’t good for him.” He swung the door open and left.
“Jesus…” Rubbing my eyes, I chuckled. “Don’t listen to him.” I didn’t have any symptoms of a concussion, but everyone treated me like I had one.
“Will you be able to, uh, have sex when you get back?” Ezra asked.
“Oh, hell yes. I’m fine. The docs are just being extra cautious.” With a scowl, I set my phone on my lap. “Can’t wait to see you.”
“Same.” Ezra sighed. “I better let you go so you can rest.”
“Okay.” I was tired…I’d played hard tonight, even if I hadn’t played the entire game. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you, bye.” He hung up the call.
I tipped my head back against the headboard. Things were looking up between us. No mention of Tate for once. The order of protection must be working.
The next afternoon, I took an Uber home from the airport with Evan. I was excited to spend my day off tomorrow with Ezra.
The Uber pulled in to our apartment building parking lot and I climbed out along with Evan, grabbed my duffel, and then met him at the walkway. “What have you got going on the rest of the day?” He’d looked a little green this morning.
“Sleep.” He smirked at me. “I didn’t get in until four last night and damn, Gagnon can down the shots.” He strolled next to me on the walkway.
At the elevator, I pushed the call button and scanned the grounds, the clubhouse and palm trees interspersed with desert plants. “What shots were you doing?”
“Tequila.” He winced. “I don’t want to think about it.” He entered the elevator as the doors slid open and pushed the button for the third floor.
Normally we’d walk the stairs to our floor, but fuck it. With a sharp snort, I said, “I didn’t know Gagnon was a tequila drinker.”
“Neither did I. I think he takes turns with his liquor and last night was tequila night.” As the door opened on our floor, he said, “You ever heard of a Mexican flag shot?”
“What? No.” I strolled with him to our apartment door. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a shot of tomato juice, tequila and pickle juice.” He slid his card out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket and faced me. “You drink the tomato juice, then the tequila and follow it up with the pickle juice.”
I mock gagged. “Gross, seriously?” I’d never heard of such a thing, but maybe Gagnon had picked it up when he played for Texas A&M.
“It’s actually not bad. We’ll try it sometime.” He tapped my chest with his knuckles.
The door clicked and opened. “I thought I heard you both out here.” Ezra stood in the entry, his dark hair hanging over his shoulders and his taut stomach showing under a white crop top.
Damn, he looked delicious. I wanted to lick those abs. “Hey, Ezra.” Grabbing him into a fierce hug, I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in, his scent intoxicating.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to bed. You two do what you want.” Evan sidestepped us and made a beeline for his bedroom.
“What’s up with him?” Ezra freed me and shut the door behind me.
“Oh, he’s hung over. The guys partied hard last night.” I chuckled and strolled into the main room. What had Ezra been up to? “Have you been working at the studio today?”
“A little this morning.” With a coy grin, he clutched the lapels of my jacket and drew me close. “You weren’t partying last night, were you?” His gaze searched my face, and his lips hovered over mine.
“No, I was a good boy.” My pulse spiked and my dick woke. He had something on his mind, and I liked it.
“Yeah?” He slid his tongue along my lower lip. “I missed you.”
“I missed you.” I leaned in to close the gap, my cock lengthening behind my zipper. Just one look from him and I ignited.
“Nope, you need to wait for it.” Holding my lapel with one hand, he twisted and led me into my bedroom.
As I entered, I swung the door closed behind me, my gaze snapping to an opened bottle of wine on a tray with glasses, chocolates and a…bottle of lube? Oh hell. Was someone getting fucked today? My dick twitched. We needed to have a conversation, but hell if I could remember what about.
“Can you have wine or is it out of the question with your head—”