Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
The following day, I went back early in the morning, like at four a.m., and deleted all the security footage so no one could prove it happened.
But the thing is, I noticed something. The mess I left in the locker room was gone. My skates, gloves, and stick were stored neatly in my locker, and I found two candies on top of my folded clothes.
The rink was also clean and tidy. It was highly unlikely that the cleaning staff came in, and sure enough, I confirmed it when I watched the footage. Marcus was the one who tidied up.
I fast-forwarded to the part where I punched him and skated away like my ass was on fire.
Marcus just stroked his chin as he watched the direction I went in. He sat down on the bench in the penalty box and just stared. Like a creep. For a long time.
Then he stood up and winked at the camera before he got on with tidying.
As if he knew I’d watch it. I mean, yeah, makes sense, neither of us wanted the others on the Vipers to know I invited the Wolves’ captain for a late-night game.
In which I had my ass spanked.
Okay, fine, maybe I made a copy of the footage and sent it to myself before deleting it from the arena’s servers.
It’s so I can study it and make sure that I didn’t make a complete fool out of myself and that it’s totally normal for a straight guy to come that hard from being touched and spanked by another man.
Happens every day in the sex club near you.
Later that day, I smashed the game against the Ravens so thoroughly that the media were singing my praises. Then Dad took me and Miley to dinner—something he does when I please him.
Lenin was nowhere to be seen.
During the dinner, as I was cracking jokes and Miley was laughing, I got a text from the public nuisance that is Marcus.
PMS (Perpetual Male Syndrome)
Did you get the candies I left you?
Me
How did you know I like mango flavor?
Lucky guess. Congrats on the win, by the way. You were phenomenal.
Says every article ever. The lack of originality is staggering.
I can do original. You outdid yourself because I gave you a good spanking and a very satisfying orgasm.
You wish.
It’s true, though. Some recognition of my effort won’t hurt.
Should I start thanking you in my post-game interviews to feed your narcissistic streak?
If you like. I already gave you credit in mine.
Did I excuse myself to the bathroom during dinner with Dad to google Marcus? Sure did.
The articles and videos popped up immediately. The Stanton Wolves crushed the Knights, and it was all thanks to “the Wolves’ beast of a captain, Osborn.”
I clicked on the video where he was being interviewed. It was straight after the game, so he had his helmet off, and his damp hair was falling haphazardly over his face.
No idea why I paused to watch that face closely.
When the interviewer asked him what the secret to his outstanding performance was, he said, “I’ve developed a new special pregame ritual that I believe is the reason I’m in top form.”
“Do you care to share the special ritual?” she asked.
He merely smirked in that familiar way as he looked at the camera. “It’s a secret.”
That asshole.
After that, I proceeded to ignore all his texts inviting me to play one-on-one again or to have a drink with him or any of the bullshit he was saying. He was acting like we were friends or something, just because he saw me come.
Correction: made you come.
Shut up, brain.
Now, I stare at his new texts.
Problem #11
Good evening.
We have games tomorrow, princeling. You know what that means?
Me
You’ll drop dead, and humanity will throw a party to celebrate?
Humor so dark, it’s endearing. But that’s not it. It means you and I have a date.
I have nothing with you, let alone a date.
It’s cute that you think you can deny this and it’ll be as if it never happened. Listen, consider it a jinx if we don’t do it. We both had phenomenal games last week, it would be a shame to lose momentum now.
I don’t need you to keep my momentum.
But I need you.
I pause, my fingers trembling slightly as that uncomfortable feeling wraps a noose around my throat.
“Who are you texting so intensely?” Jude asks, trying to peer into my phone.
My lips part. Well, shit.
I honest to fuck completely forgot that Jude and Kane were here. Didn’t even notice Kane getting up and doing the dishes, still wearing a grumpy expression.
“A girl,” I lie through my teeth.
Jude frowns. “What type of girl managed to annoy you this much?”
“A pain in the ass.”
“And you’re still talking to her? Don’t you usually drop anyone who has the tiniest potential of being a headache?”
“I’m dropping this one, too…” I trail off as my phone vibrates with a new text.