Chapter Eight #3
“Not long after you. Now remember, this is a charity fundraising event. Please play nice, smile at everything he says, and make sure you pause for the cameras.”
“I’ll be a good boy. Pinky promise.”
“I’m serious, Sel. Am I going to have to chaperone? Don’t start flirting with other people at the event.”
“Relax, Hugo. I know what I’m doing, even though I don’t want to do it.”
“Two months will go by before you know it.”
Right.
“And in the meantime, if I need to go out and get laid?”
“I already told you, be discreet. If you need it, I can arrange for you to get into a private club that might appeal.”
“You?” I scoff.
“Yes, me,” he snaps. “There isn’t a bar or club, private or otherwise, in this city that I’m not familiar with. You’re not the first player who’s asked and you won’t be the last.”
“Good. How about tonight?”
I’m not actually sure if it’s a good idea, but why not? A couple of hours of pleasure is just what I need.
“I’ll text you my recs.”
“Queer friendly, of course.”
“Anything else?”
“Should I wear a disguise later? Sunglasses, a wig, a hat?”
There’s silence on the line and I’m hoping that means Hugo’s hung up.
“Hey, Sel, the game’s back on!” Finn shouts.
“Who’s that?” Hugo asks.
“Finn.”
“Are you at home?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Why’s he there?”
The sharpness of his tone has my temper sparking.
“Because we’re reviewing yesterday’s game together,” I snap. “That’s what teammates do.”
“How long’s he been there? Did anyone see him enter your condo?”
His condescending tone about the fake date was annoying, but this interrogation tips me right over the edge.
“What the hell, Hugo? Finn and I are teammates. Friends.”
Friends? Yeah, sure. I think shooting the shit followed by a trash-talking pillow fight qualifies.
“So what if someone sees him at my place or me at his?” I continue. “Jesus, paranoid much? Just because I’m bi doesn’t mean I fuck everything that moves. And FYI, I’m not so important that some pap is following me around inside my building.”
“But other players live there and—”
“If there’s nothing else, fuck off.”
I’ve never spoken to a colleague like that, but Hugo crossed a line.
I hang up before he can offer a response, but of course, he calls back.
I put the ringer on silent. A cooldown is required before I talk to him again.
Just before I shove the phone in my pocket, I notice his text message, but I don’t read it.
Later. And it better be about the club for tonight and nothing about Finn or I will lose my shit.
Unfortunately, Hugo’s call has me doubting myself.
I thought the heaviness that plagued me for weeks was starting to lift, but now it’s settling into me again with a vengeance.
Does Hugo have a point? Maybe it would best if Finn wasn’t around me. At least, not in my home. It’s too personal, right?
Listen to yourself. You’re overreacting, like Hugo.
Am I?
I head back to the living room to find Finn spread out on the couch closest to the TV, clutching tight to one of the pillows. He looks like he belongs here, and it feels like we’re old friends, not new. His hazel eyes meet mine and I swallow hard.
Tell him to leave.
I can’t do it.
“How’s Hugo?”
I gnash my teeth.
“Don’t ask.”
Plunking down onto one of the chairs, I sulk until Finn throws his pillow at me.
“Hey!”
“I’ll give you a freebie.”
“What?” I startle.
“You look like you need to vent, so you get one free whack with the pillow.” He winks at me. “Better make it a good one, Kirkland.”
Despite my roller-coaster mood, I can’t help but smile, completely charmed by this man. What’s more shocking is that my cock isn’t immune to that wink either.
Shit, no. Don’t even go there. You’re imagining things.
To play it safe, instead of taking him up on his offer, I stay where I am but shift slightly. No more tussling with him unless it’s on the ice.
“Appreciated, but I’m okay.”
“So, what’re we having for dinner?”
Hockey players never stop thinking about their next meal.
“Dinner?”
“Unless you have your date tonight?”
“Not tonight.” I shake my head. “Next Friday.”
“Alright.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. “That means for now, you’re all mine.”
He’s referring to us as friends, but the deep tone of his voice has me reacting to his words like a fucking horny teenager. Slowly, I lower the pillow to my lap.
Jesus, I need to go out and get laid.
“Really?” I croak and clear my throat. “I mean, yeah, sure, we can hang out.”
“Because once you start dating that gorgeous athlete—”
“Football player. Taylor Grimaldi.”
“Holy shit, Grimaldi?” Finn exclaims. “He’s the newest tight end for New York and so freaking good. He’s out? Why didn’t I know this?”
“It’s very recent. I didn’t know either until Hugo told me. Then again, I haven’t exactly been online that much. Not lately.”
I make a mental note to check out Taylor’s backstory so I can find out more about him.
“Anyway,” Finn continues. “Once you start dating Taylor, you’ll be busy.”
“Not too busy for a friend.”
Finn’s smile lights up the room. “Promise?”
“Swear on my surfboard.”