Chapter Seven
Bodie
I’ve slept next to Bryce four nights in a row now , and it’s been the best sleep I’ve had in years.
The one night I fell asleep in my room before he got home from work, he snuck into my bed without even waking me up.
When I woke in the morning, he was wrapped around me like a starfish on its prey—and I didn’t mind it at all.
Bryce tried to have a serious conversation with me about how I’m feeling, making sure I’m not regretting anything.
He’s so worried about me and our friendship.
I keep reassuring him I’m completely happy with how things are going between us.
He still promises to take things slow and at my pace, when all I want to do is discover more about this new us.
I hated getting out of bed this morning.
If I could stay in bed with him all day, I would, and it’s not even about the sex—we haven’t done anything else since that first night because Bryce is so stubborn—it’s being close to him that fills up a space that felt so empty before.
Even with Amber, I always felt something was missing from our relationship.
I loved her since high school; we were friends for years before I asked her out, but it was a different kind of love than what I have for Bryce. I didn’t realize it until now.
Everything is still so new, though. I can’t say I’m in love with Bryce the way Amber thinks I am, but I know the way I feel for him is definitely not a typical bro-love.
I can tell when I look around the locker room at some of my other closest friends, watching them get undressed and into their gear.
I can see they’re good-looking guys; they take care of their bodies like they’re temples of the gods, but other than that—nothing.
When Bryce gets undressed or walks around the house half-naked, it’s a different story—my dick instantly gets hard now.
“Foster, are you gearing up or what?”
“You’re always worried about everyone else, Mickells,” Davidson teases our teammate. “Worry about getting your own gear on.”
“Hey, I’m not the one half-dressed and spacing out,” Mickells calls back as he leaves the locker room.
I hurry and get my gear on before I draw more attention to my oddities.
I get enough shit from some of the guys for my zoomies on the ice.
I may be the goalie, but I still love to skate as fast as the rest of them.
I’m glad my parents got me into hockey young—it helped channel my energy.
Once I saw goalies hard at work, I knew that was the position I wanted to play.
There was a lot of trial and error in coming up with strategies that would help me focus on the puck, but I managed, and it’s all paid off.
Coach told me last week I’m being scouted and could be called up any day now.
Once I’m on the ice, I warm up and get into the zone. In the middle of my shuffle routine, Mickells gives me a snow shower. From a rival team, that’s a hard no and turns into a fight half the time, but even from a teammate, it’s still annoying.
“What the fuck, Mickells?”
“Just snowing a little love, Foster.”
“Why don’t you stick to shooting pucks at me, okay?”
“Someone’s so sensitive today,” he adds as he sends a slow-moving puck my way.
The look of disdain on my face doesn’t faze him at all as he skates off with a smirk. He can be such an asshole sometimes.
I make it through the rest of practice without Mickells or anyone else ragging on me.
Hardly any pucks get through me into the back of Piper’s net—yes, us goalies name our nets.
When I’m playing, I’m in my element—no one can get to me—but that doesn’t stop my mind from going right back to Bryce as soon as I leave the ice.
When I hit the showers, I spend longer than usual under the hot water.
Thoughts of Bryce jerking us off together run rampant, and my dick has a mind of its own.
There’s no way I can leave my shower stall any time soon like this.
I turn the handle all the way to cold and yelp at the shock.
“You good down there, Foster?” Davidson, always the dad of the team.
“Yeah. Never better.” I force out the answer. Geez, please let this fix my little problem. No, not little—he’s a big problem. Yeah, big problem. Did I just call my dick ‘he’? Fuck, focus, Bodie.
I walk into the apartment to find Bryce in the kitchen, chopping something up on the island. Barefoot, gray sweats, and a T-shirt—I get the attraction now. I don’t know why I never noticed these things before. Honestly, I’m still trying to figure this whole thing out, but I’m glad it’s with Bryce.
“Hey there. Smells good in here.” I peek over his shoulder, resting my chin on him and snaking my fingers under his shirt to steal some abs-feelies. They’re defined just the right amount to make my senses very happy. “What’re you cooking?”
“Sauce for pasta. Mom called, so I invited her over for dinner.”
“Oh, cool. It’s been a minute since we’ve seen her.” Next to my mom, his mom is the coolest. It was never a question that they would become good friends over the years too—like our friendship, it just happened naturally.
“Want to grab an onion and show me those newfound chopping skills?” he asks with a peck to my nose.
That’s not enough. I take his mouth in a passionate kiss, our tongues tangling as I daydream of other things he could be doing with his. I pull away, gently biting his lower lip and grazing the front of his sweats with my palm, causing him to groan quietly.
“You’re asking for trouble. Go chop onions—now.”
“Oooh, so bossy in the kitchen.”
“I can be bossy in a lot of places,” he adds under his breath as I grab an onion from the basket.
I stand next to him, silently peeling my onion, and start chopping away. Every time Bryce walks by me, he just has to touch me—a shoulder grab, a hand on the small of my back or on my ass—each one sending a wave of exhilaration through my body. I want more of it.
“Uh-uh. Whatever you’re thinking about, you can stop it now,” Bryce tells me emphatically. “Mom will be here in a few minutes.”
“What? I wasn’t doing anything.” Yes, I was—he was already naked in my head.
“Sure you weren’t.”
“You’re the one who can’t keep your hands off me.”
His phone dings, and as quickly as he looks at it, he drops it on the counter with a smirk.
The way Bryce approaches me, with intent behind his heated gaze, has a gasp leaving me when he meets his mark.
With his hands on my ass, I’m raised onto the counter, spreading my legs to make more room for him.
“I thought you said Mom would be here any minute?”
The finger dragging along the waistline of my joggers makes me greedy for whatever he’s about to do.
“She’s running a little late.” He looks up from his hand on my waist with dark eyes. “Lucky us.”
“Lucky us,” I say, wrapping my legs around him, fisting his hair while owning his mouth and tongue like they’ve been mine all along. The make-out session is hot and he can’t get enough of me either, his hands roaming across my skin, exploring my body, and ravaging me like a feral animal.
He pulls me closer to the edge of the counter, and when I feel his erection up against mine, it takes me back to our first night together.
The excitement building in my core at the thought of that happening again has me in a frenzy, tearing Bryce’s shirt off his body and shoving my hand down the front of his sweats.
“Someone is eager for a repeat,” Bryce gasps as I stroke him.
“Lift,” he says, tugging at my waistband.
I hiss at the cold countertop on my skin when he pulls off my shirt and guides me down onto my back.
His hand drags down my chest and torso while he nuzzles his nose into my groin, and my body vibrates with the chemistry between us.
I’ve never had anyone put their face in my groin the way Bryce is right now, and I have to say it’s so fucking arousing that I’m afraid one touch of his hand on my cock would make me come.
“Fuck, Bryce. Plea—” I’m stunned when his lips surround the head of my cock before gliding down to the base in slow motion.
“Oh my god. Yeah, yep, that.” I breathe through it until he retreats back up, sucking me hard, and I can’t hold in the moans building in my throat.
I grab his hair and guide his bobbing, enjoying every second of his expertise in all things cock-related.
Bryce has turned from best friend into sex god real fast, and he hasn’t even penetrated me yet—maybe I should’ve been with a man all along.
Those are thoughts for another time, though.
My mind needs to stay here, wrapped up in him and his mouth.
“Shit—Bryce—yes, just like—I’m gonna—” He doesn’t stop despite me grabbing his hair to pull him off. He just keeps sucking, drinking down my release until my body’s spasms finally calm down.
When Bryce rises from my cock to kiss me, I finally see what cum-drunk looks like.
When he cups my face, I feel the stickiness of his orgasm on his hands, and the taste of my cum on his lips has me groaning in satisfaction.
Bryce jerking himself while sucking my cock is the new hottest thing I’ve ever done, and I’d like to repeat it as soon as humanly possible.
The knock on the door breaks us both out of the spell we’ve fallen under.
We gave Ms. Diane a key card for emergencies when we moved in, which she uses any time now.
So, we’re not entirely surprised when the door lock clicks while Bryce is still rubbing his hands together under the faucet with soap, and I pull on my pants in record speed to run to the bathroom.
“Hey, Mom.” I hear them greeting each other from the other room.
I can imagine the crushing hug he’s giving as he towers over her—I don’t know how that big man came from such a little woman.
His father must’ve been really tall. He died in an accident when Bryce was in first grade, so I never got to meet him.
“How are my boys doing?”
“We’re good, Ms. Diane,” I say as I come down the hallway and give her a warm hug.
“Hmm, what smells so good?”
“Bryce is making pasta for us.”
“Bodie is helping,” Bryce adds, smiling at me.
“Oh, so nice of you boys.” She’s already looking at us suspiciously, inquisitive eyes bouncing between Bryce and me, and she’s been here less than a minute.
The three of us finish cooking together and sit down for our meal, all while Ms. Diane is giving us the third degree with her eyes alone.
Even though we’ve been keeping our distance—we’re not exactly announcing to the world yet that we’re exploring more than a friendship with each other—Diane is still a very intuitive woman.
“So, anything new with you boys?”
“Not really,” Bryce answers a little too quickly.
“Bodie, how is hockey going? Any exciting games lately? I try to watch when I can.”
I let her know about last night’s shutout, and that there was a scout there for me.
“Bodie, that’s amazing. It was inevitable you’d make it to the NHL.” With a clap of her hands, she gets as excited for me as my mom was when I told her this morning.
“Let’s not count our chickens yet.”
“It’s in the bag this time, ba—Bode.” My eyes shoot up to his, and I can’t help but chuckle with him while Ms. Diane looks back and forth between us with a smile.
By the time we say goodnight, she’s full-on beaming with excitement, and I hear her whisper to Bryce as they hug, “I knew you two would find each other.” She leaves me with a hug and a pat on the cheek. “See you soon, Bodie.”
“She’s as nosy as ever,” Bryce says, giving me a well-needed hug after closing the door. “Sorry about that. No one should be forced to—”
“It’s okay. She didn’t force anything. We don’t know what this is yet, right?” My heart rate spikes, and I need to rub my palms on my pants before I even finish my sentence. I don’t know why I said it like that—or what I expect his answer to be.
He holds onto my waist while looking at me—more like inside me, seeing right through my nervousness—and tells me, “You’re right.
We don’t know what this is yet.” My stomach drops.
“But I think I know where we both want this to go. We’ve known each other for eighteen years, and we’re just starting to figure it out. Let’s take our time.”
I swallow the lump that was building in my throat and nod vehemently.
“I love you, Bodie. Always have. You’re my best friend first and foremost.”
“Same.” I wince, not liking my response at all. Bryce seems unbothered by it, though, pressing a kiss to my lips before going to finish cleaning up the kitchen.
Whether he knows I’ve loved him for years as my best friend or not, I owe him more than a mediocre answer.