Chapter Four
Bodie
Iwake up and feel as if there’s a five-pound weight on my chest. The congestion is worse than when I fell asleep, along with my fever , because, fuck, it’s hot in here.
When I try to pull the covers off, they don’t move past my chest. I look over and see Bryce is in my bed.
When and how the fuck did that happen? I check to see we both have our clothes on, so I don’t think anything happened, but he has his tree stump of an arm draped over my chest. His cologne from work last night still lingers on his clothes, and it somehow smells different—better than normal.
I tap him a couple times before I hear him say, “Five more minutes. Five more minutes.” I give him his time. I know he usually sleeps until noon. When he falls back under, I suffer through it, attempting to fall into a slumber again.
The next time I wake, I sense the loss of his body next to mine even without opening my eyes.
I still feel like shit, and I have zero plans of moving out of this bed for the rest of the day.
Rolling over to check the time, I grab the water and my phone.
I’m definitely sick if I slept until one in the afternoon.
As I down the fresh bottle of water Bryce left for me, he shows up at my door.
“You need to eat. Scoot over.”
“You made me breakfast?”
“Lunch, technically, but food is food.”
I take small bites of toast and drink some of the hot tea he made. This is the one time I can enjoy his love for different flavored teas—our pantry is full of them.
“Thanks, you’re the best,” I say between sips. “Don’t you have to start getting ready for work soon?”
“Nah, Dillon is covering for me tonight.”
“You look like shit, Bryce. Did I get you sick already?”
“I feel fine. Just hard to sleep next to a furnace.”
I look around for a second, and then, duh, it hits me. “You were lying with your limbs splayed like a starfish on top of me!”
“Hey, it was the only way to stop you from tossing and turning. What was I supposed to do?” He laughs before his lack of sleep shows with a yawn.
“I always loved the weighted blankets Mom got me.”
“Yeah, those things were great.”
We fall into silence while we eat the rest of our breakfast. I can’t stand it any longer, so I turn the TV on and find a game from last night to watch. He falls asleep before the first period even ends. I turn onto my side and lie there studying him for the first time.
His strong jawline is defined by his neatly trimmed beard that makes him look much older.
I’ve always loved his tattoos, but right now every curve of the intricate designs contours his forearm muscles like it was meant to be there, making them even hotter.
Even though his hair is short with a slight curl, he always has it perfectly styled with some type of product—if he doesn’t wear his ball cap.
I drift off while staring at him and then wake up to my dark room aside from the muted TV.
He must’ve gotten tired of sweating next to me and gone to his own bed.
I make my way to the bathroom, realizing I haven’t pissed all day, and wind up walking into a steamy room.
He doesn’t hear me come in; he’s still facing the wall with one hand balancing himself on the tiles, and the other is…
wait, is he? Holy shit, I think he’s jerking off.
I watch for a moment and know I should turn around, but I just can’t.
My heart rate picks up, and I try to control my ragged breaths so he doesn’t hear me.
I should leave, but admiring his physique and listening to his moaning is too tempting.
I should announce myself, but I’m frozen in place, my mouth dry and needing something to quench this thirst while watching my best friend pleasure himself.
That’s it, I’m leaving. This is creepy guy shit.
I back out the door, but before it closes, I hear him moan again, and god, does it make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There’s no way I can walk away now. I have to look, but I can’t open the door all the way again. What if he’s looking this way? Shit, I got it.
I lie down on my stomach and inch the door open slowly, peeking my head in.
He’s still in the same position, thankfully, and can’t see me, but damn, can I see and hear him.
Fuck, his ass is even more gorgeous naked.
Am I jealous or attracted to it? As I feel my dick twitch, I know the answer.
When he turns around, leaning against the wall as he finishes himself off, I have to wipe the moisture from the side of my lips.
I see his body start to spasm and the sound of his release echoing in the stall, and realize my erection is aching against the hardwood floor.
I quietly back out through the door in an army crawl and lie on my back for a moment before walking back to my room with my hand wrapped around my hardened cock.
A few minutes later, I hear him leave the bathroom as I’m cleaning myself off with a satiated sigh, and then I rush in to relieve myself.
What did I just do? I watched my best friend, my roommate, who trusts me, jerk off in the shower where he thought he was alone, and then afterward, I jerked off thinking about it. Fuck, how could I? Why would I? I couldn’t help myself, though. Now I have to figure out what the hell this means.
When I step outside the bathroom, trying to recover from my mini spiral, Bryce is walking out of his room with nothing on but those damn boxers again.
“Uh, hey, how are you feeling?” he asks.
“Like shit still. Going to lie down a little longer.”
“I’ll bring you some food. I was about to cook dinner.”
I nod, attempting not to stare at the dusting of hair across his chest and stomach with a happy trail leading under his black boxer shorts. I’ve never wanted to know more about where a happy trail leads to than in this moment.
I rush back to my room, our arms grazing each other as he walks past me.
How did I not know how I felt about him all this time?
Amber says I’m in love with him, but it’s never felt like that until now.
Or maybe this is just sexual attraction because I haven’t gotten laid in well over a month, like Bryce said.
Maybe I need to go pick someone up and see if that gets rid of whatever the fuck is going on here.
Picking up a puck bunny won’t solve my problems, though—I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy. Hell, I’ve only had one serious girlfriend. I’ve been with Amber since junior year of high school, and I only slept with one girl before her.
Bryce bringing in tomato soup and grilled cheese has to be the sweetest thing in the world. “You remembered what Mom always made me when I was sick.”
“It’s your comfort food. I ordered groceries while you were sleeping.”
If guardian angels existed on earth, Bryce would be mine—always taking care of me in any situation.
“Do you mind if we watch something other than hockey?” he says carefully, as if I’d protest.
“We don’t always have to watch hockey, Bryce. Just change the channel.”
He chooses a comedy, and we set ourselves up, our backs against the headboard with the tray of food between us.
I breathe in deeply when our hands graze each other, and the sound of his laughter gives me goosebumps.
It’s as if every sensation involving Bryce is newly amplified by a hundred.
By the time the movie ends, we’re both full and exhausted.
“I’m going to clean up and head to bed. You’ll be good in here tonight?”
“Huh?” I thought he would sleep in here with me again—it felt nice. “Umm, yeah, sure. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, goodnight, Bode,” he says as he picks up our dinner tray and leaves the room.
The click of the door is harsher than usual.
I wanted to ask him to stay and hang out longer.
This is ridiculous; it’s not like we didn’t just fall asleep last night next to each other.
My brain starts to race, and I start having another coughing fit.
Bryce knocks and then walks right in exactly like I was hoping he would.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You still don’t sound good.”
“Yeah—cough—still congested some—cough—and really cold.” At least I’m not fibbing about being cold.
He leaves the room and comes back with more water and meds. “I turned the heat up a little,” he says, pulling his shirt off and tapping my side. “Make room. I’ll stay for a little while longer.” He carefully slides under the covers far enough away that we’re not touching.
A little while longer turns into hours after we both fell asleep, my back against him, only to wake up with my head on his bare chest and limbs slung over his body.
He has his arm wrapped around my back with his hand resting on my hipbone beneath my T-shirt.
His body wash intoxicates my senses, reminding me of him coming and the husky groaning that left his body.
I let my cheek brush against his pecs and love the way his hair tickles me.
He doesn’t stir. I push a little further, letting my lips gently caress his chest. I steal another chance to touch him, pressing my lips firmly around his nipple, slightly opening them to taste him before pulling away.
He tastes nothing like a woman—woodsier and saltier from sweating—and I like it.
There’s still no movement from my attempts to wake him, but I swear he stopped breathing for a moment.
And what the hell was I going to do if he did wake up?
Nothing is making sense right now, but I’m not scared because it’s Bryce.
Deciding to abandon any further attempts, I snuggle up to him and enjoy the comfort of his body.
The daylight is brighter than usual this morning, and my bed is empty, which makes it worse.
Sleeping next to Bryce two nights in a row felt really fucking good.
It’s different from with Amber. His hard body grounds me.
Whether he’s hanging all over me or I’m lying on him, I feel secure.
I think I did the same for him—when he seemed to be having a rough dream, my twenty-second rule worked to ease him even in his sleep.
He’s nowhere in the apartment, which is abnormal for him this early in the day.
Me
Hey did you leave early for work?
Wow, I sound like a needy partner.
Me
I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me. You’re the best!
Bryce
No problem. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Working tonight.
My stomach turns a little at his response. Normally that kind of response wouldn’t bother me, but…
I try to move on with my day, calling my coach again to let him know I’m feeling better and will be back today. When I get to the rink for open practice, the guys are more chill than the other day about my tardiness, though. There seems to be more of a crowd today.
Our warm-ups go by with minimal noise from the puck bunnies, but once I get to my net and begin scraping the crease, I hear the tapping of nails on the glass. I look and see a couple bunnies batting their lashes at me.
“Geez, Foster. Someone must’ve let out the secret that you’re finally on the market.” Mickells skates by, giving his two cents.
“Forget about any hookups now that the goalie is free to date,” Jacobs chimes in.
“Shut up and shoot me some pucks, assholes.” Several of my teammates laugh, but then the rapid fire of pucks gets me focused on what’s important.
After a grueling practice and team meeting, I shower and head out quickly before the guys make plans for me. They have a habit of coercing each other to hang out with the bunnies after practice.
Apparently, I’m no longer immune to the female fans waiting, though.
I’m polite and talk with all the fans that hang out outside, even when they aren’t looking for hockey-related small talk or a signing.
I may entertain them in conversation, but as soon as it switches to the ‘want to hang out’ narrative, I politely excuse myself.
Even if I was interested, I’m not ready for casual hookups.
And with whatever is going on with the way I feel about Bryce, I’m definitely not ready to explore anything with anyone else until I figure it out.
It’s been three days since I last saw Bryce in my bed.
He either comes home late after I’ve fallen asleep, despite my attempts to stay awake, or he texts and says he’s staying at Calisse’s house and to not wait up for him.
He’s avoiding me, and I’m not sure why. Did he get mad about waking up with me wrapped around him?
Me
Hey I was going to make tacos tonight. Are you working? Should I make enough for you?
Dots pop up right away and then disappear. It takes a few minutes for them to appear again.
Bryce
Yeah, I’ll be home tonight.
My stomach does the weird thing I haven’t felt since I first started dating Amber. It’s a short answer—still all too serious—but I’ll take what I can get. I’d better make these tacos worth it. Now I need to go shopping.