Twenty-Nine
Blaine
“Tequila me, por favor!” Elliot holds his shot glass high in the air.
Coach has given us the green light to celebrate tonight after our spectacular win in North Carolina, which saw Elliot get his sixth career shutout and Mitch get his first NHL hat trick.
The rookie’s been bouncing off the walls ever since, his energy levels rivaling those of a golden retriever puppy. I feel sorry for Peyton, who’s rooming with him tonight.
Kendrick pours the amber liquid into Elliot’s glass, then tops up the rest of our glasses, purposely skipping Mitch—the kid really can’t handle his liquor.
Our road trip started in Nashville yesterday, and thankfully we have an off day tomorrow with our flight leaving for Tampa around lunchtime.
We play in a matinee game in Tampa the following day, then head straight to Miami, meaning we should be landing back in Chicago just before midnight on New Year’s Eve.
This is the first trip where I'm counting down the days until I'm home because I really didn’t want to leave Alex.
The more time we spend together, the harder it is to leave him, and even though we have FaceTime calls, it’s not the same as being able to take his lips in a kiss or to breathe in the sweet grapefruit scent of his hair.
Fuck.
Who knew I would ever feel this sappy over someone? I never imagined feeling like this—it’s like I’m missing a limb when I'm away from him. I used to love away games, being able to lose myself in someone that I wouldn't likely see again. But now?
Now I just want Alex.
I take my tequila shot with a grimace.
“You always make the same face; I don’t know why you drink it.” Ethan chuckles beside me.
“El wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I refused tequila.”
He shakes his head and watches Elliot wave his lime slice around as he stamps his feet, his face screwing up from the bitter taste.
“How’s things going with Alex?”
“Good, really good, actually.” I settle back into my seat, angling my body slightly toward Ethan. “I was wondering if you could help me with something…”
Ethan raises a brow, “Sure, what's up?”
Lowering my voice for only Ethan’s ears, I give a very brief overview of Alex and Jacob’s business struggles and mention I’ve offered to help, but Alex is adamant on not taking a penny from me.
“I understand his reasons, but I wish he’d let me help.
I feel kinda powerless, you know?” I sigh.
It’s hard to see them struggle when I could relieve them of that burden.
“So I was wondering if we could ask Colleen if there was something we could do for the team channel? You know, something fun, like us decorating cookies? We could pay to use the bakery facilities…” I shrug.
Ethan’s lips twitch. “You really like this guy, eh?”
I nod, my hand gripping the back of my neck. “Yeah, I do.”
Ethan’s usually stern features turn soft for a moment. “I’m sure Colleen would be up for that. We could go and speak with her when we’re back; I know she’s always looking for new ideas.”
“Thank you, it means a lot.”
Ethan gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Anytime. I’m glad it’s working out for you, and he seems to have a positive effect on you, too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how well you’re playing recently.”
I duck my chin to my chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
Have I mentioned praise from Ethan is like catnip?
Plus, I wasn’t kidding when I told Alex that Ethan was my idol when I came to Thunder, because he still is. He’s one of the greatest guys I’ve ever known, both on and off the ice.
“Coach has noticed, too, so keep it up. If you keep your head down and your stats up, I think you’ll be okay.” He doesn’t need to say the words because I know he means when it comes to the trade deadline.
He gives me a reassuring smile before standing up.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he announces to the group.
“Make this your last one, and I expect to see you all at breakfast bright and early.” He then looks at Mitch.
“You better go back as soon as you’ve finished that one.
I’m trusting you,” he says, giving Peyton a pointed look.
A chorus of Yes, cap echoes, followed by Elliot shouting, “ Aye, aye, captain !” while saluting.
I use Ethan’s exit as an excuse to leave as well. My phone’s been burning a hole in my pocket all night, wanting to call Alex before he goes to sleep. I text him, letting him know I’ll call him in five and head across the street to our hotel.
The elevator seems to take a decade to arrive, and when the doors open on my floor, I quickly close the distance to my room. The second I’m in my room, I’m dialing Alex’s number.
There’s no controlling the smile that takes over my face when the call connects and his face fills the screen.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, great game tonight!” he grins.
“Thank you.” I sit down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “I fucking miss you, though.”
“I miss you, too. I can’t wait for you to be home.”
“It feels like it’s going to be the longest five days ever.” I groan dramatically. “And by home, do you mean you’ll be waiting for me at my apartment?”
I note the surprise in his eyes. “Well, I meant Chicago, but… I will.”
“How very domestic of us, Alex.”
“Do you hate it?”
“No, I actually like that a lot.” Knowing Alex will be inside my house when I come back feels more like home than anything else ever did. It feels right.
“Are you on your own?” He asks, after a couple of seconds.
“Why? Wanna take advantage of me?” I wink.
He drags his teeth over his top lip, and even with the low lighting of his bedside lamp, I can see his blue eyes glistening with mischief. “Maybe.”
“What would you do to me if you were here?”
He raises an eyebrow, and his lips twitch, fighting off a smile.
“What?” I feign innocence.
“Did you really just pull that line on me?” He grins.
Sitting up right, I quickly shed my hoodie and shirt, throwing them down onto the floor, then kicking off my sweatpants.
Once I lean back, I move the phone down to rest against my thigh, giving Alex the perfect view of my erection straining against my briefs and the expanse of my chest. I grin at the sound of his breath hitching.
“So?”
He licks his lips, his eyes wide as they gaze over my body.
“Alex?”
“Sorry, what did you just say?”
“What would you do to me if you were here?”
He swallows hard. “I’d take off your boxers first.”
My dick gives an excited twitch as I hook my thumb under the waistband. “Do you want me to take them off, Alex?”
He gives a shaky nod.
I move to pull them off, then stop at the last minute, letting the elastic ping back against my skin.
Alex groans. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I want to hear you say the words, and you’re still wearing a shirt.”
I'm suddenly looking at his bedroom ceiling and hearing the sound of sheets ruffling. When he reappears, sans shirt, his hair is messy and his eyes are wild with heat.
“Much better,” I say.
“Good, now get them off.” He orders.
“Fuck, I love this bossy side of you.” His demanding tone goes straight to my dick, and once I remove my boxers, I let out a sigh of relief when my dick is finally free. I take my hard length in my hand, lazily stroking up and down, circling over the weeping head.
Alex doesn’t even blink; he just licks his lips and watches my hand as I give my dick a squeeze.
“Fuck, I want you so bad.” Alex whispers.
I angle my dick to my phone. “Open up.”
He opens his mouth and brings his phone closer, so his mouth is all I see. I laugh, then let out a groan when he moves his phone to rest on his bedside table.
I watch avidly as he smooths his palm down his lean torso. The lighting from his bedside lamp showcases the subtle outline of muscle, and his brown nipples beg for my mouth.
He stands up, his crotch perfectly in line with the camera, and he pushes down his boxers. His hard cock springs into view, a pearly drop of precome beading at the red, angry tip.
“Fuck, Alex. I wanna taste you.” My words come out strained.
He lies back on the bed, camera positioned just perfectly so that I can see his gorgeous face and that equally gorgeous cock. “Stroke it for me, slowly.”
He wraps his fist around his hard length, following my instructions. He slowly pumps through the tight grip, and strokes over the tip. His chest rises and falls in quick pants, and his lips part on a whimper. “Blaine…”
“Fuck, baby, does it feel good?” I grip my cock, squeezing the head. I’m so close to blowing my load already.
He jerks his head in a nod. “Y—yeah.”
Our eyes lock through the screen, our hands pumping our erections in rhythm, and I come the second Alex moans my name, watching his release spill over his stomach and hand.
We clean ourselves up, and when Alex reappears on the screen, his smile is sleepy.
“I hate away games now.” I frown.
“Me too, but at least we can FaceTime every night.”
“I know, but it’s not the same as being with you and being able to fall asleep with you.”
Alex’s eyes go soft. “I’ve been counting down the days and hours until you’re home since you left your apartment.”
Fucking away games—now I definitely hate them.