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“I’d opt for one of the Star Trek movies now, but sure, why not a Disney flick? And if you have Kyleen, it would be perfect.” He grinned sleepily and then yawned. I did the same as we snuggled under the toasty warm and slightly dirty coverings. “So, is that what we’re doing? We’re seriously dating?”
“Are you into that?” he cautiously asked.
“I am so far into that you’d need a road map to find me,” I answered, burrowing into his arms and putting my mouth to his.
“Cool. Then yeah, we’re dating. Secretly for now. We’ll have to brainstorm how to handle telling the world about us.” He studied me for a reaction.
I merely smiled. “The world will just have to get over itself. I’m not letting you go.” And to prove that, I wrapped him in my arms, held him close, and in a totally unplanned but should have been expected happenstance, drifted off to sleep with the man I loved resting in my embrace. It was perfect.
Or would have been had I not woken up at the ass crack of dawn with a sore ass, a slumbering goalie spread out over me, and the knowledge that I had to somehow sneak back into the hotel without being made by anyone who would bust me. Staying out all night was not cool. Coach would chew me a new one if he found out that I’d broken curfew. He might even bench me for being out all night, which would suck.
Also, we had a bus leaving at eight to take us to our next game in Charlotte tomorrow night. Fuck.
I moved out from under Marcus and began looking for my clothes in the dark.
“You can turn on the light,” he mumbled as he moved around on the bed. “’Time is it?”
I found my briefs and pants on the floor and jumped into them, pulling up my zipper so fast it should have sparked. I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, only to find it dead as Darth Maul in Star Wars Rebels.
“My phone is dead. Near dawn?” I yanked my hoodie out from under his pants, tugged it over my head, and searched for my socks. They were on top of the dresser.
“It’s after six,” he croaked as he kicked the covers off to dress. “Are you in trouble?”
Probably. Deeply.
“Only if I get caught.” I played it off as a nothing, and it might very well be, or it might be a big something. We’d cross that bridge when we got to it as the old folks say. “I have to go. I didn’t mean to sleep here, but…”
“Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it?” He pulled a pair of gray joggers over his ass as he looked my way.
“Incredibly nice.”
“Let me drive you to the hotel,” he offered as he located a sweatshirt in deep blue and yellow, a massive comet on the front.
“No, I’ll get an Uber. If someone saw you dropping me off…”
I let it hang. He sighed deeply, took my hand, and walked me to the door. The house was quiet. He pulled up the app and got me a ride.
“Three minutes away,” he informed me while I slid my feet into my sneakers at the front door. “Baskoro, we can figure this out. We just need time to work at it.”
“I know.” I leaned in for a kiss. His lips were soft, his arms comforting and strong. All too soon, a horn honked outside. “I have to go. I love you,” I whispered and broke free, dashing out into the bitter cold, my toque down low on my head. I waved once and then leapt into the back seat of a really nice Subaru Forester. Marcus lifted a hand and closed the door on the whipping winds. Heaving a sigh, I sat back, turtled up once more to avoid any possible recognition—I hoped—and rode in silence to the hotel. The driver didn’t talk. He just sipped on a massive cup of coffee while listening to the local morning newscast on the radio. I stayed in my shell as the newscasters moved from Wilkes-Barre news to sports. Yeah, the Comets had won. That was not going to please Coach Miles. I’d have to do better and maintain focus when we faced off against the Comets or someone was going to wonder why I sucked big old buffalo balls whenever I faced Marcus Newley.
The smell of the driver’s coffee was making me twitchy. I needed some caffeine badly, but I had to get to my room first, in ninja mode, and then hit up the coffeepot in the room.
When the chain hotel we were staying at appeared on the left, I dug out forty bucks and passed it to the driver after he pulled under the porte cochere to let me out.
“Keep the change,” I mumbled into the neck of my hoodie and sprinted into the hotel lobby, head down, eyes on the floor. I made it to the elevators without seeing anyone I knew, and when I scanned my card and slipped into room 509, I let out a long held breath. I’d made it.
“Hey, man,” Liam called from behind me. Shit. I steeled my face and turned to find not only my roommate, on the road and off, but also Fossie, DJ, Greck, and Bean, the team captain who was looking incredibly captain-y. “Think you can sit down and talk for a bit?”
Everyone was sending off this tense vibe. I yanked off my toque, wishing like hell that I’d had time to shower. My hair was stiff with spunk. I had to reek of sex.
“You guys all here for coffee and donuts?” I hesitantly asked. They all looked at me with such pity and concern it left me speechless. Then it hit me. “Seriously? Are you all here for an intervention of some sort?!”
Bean rose, his hands outstretched. “Baskoro, we’re just worried about you. If you are having some dependency issues, Fossie and I are reps for the players’ association dealing with mental health and substance abuse problems.”
My mouth hung open. No lie. I stood there like a trout as my sight went from one friend to the other. Their love and concern was beyond touching.
“Guys,” I breathed out, flung my toque to my empty bed, then scrubbed at my face. “I’m not doing drugs. I just…” Shit, this was awful. I couldn’t just tell them about Marcus because I didn’t have his permission to open that can of worms. Fuck. I hated lying to them. “I went to see a guy about a horse for Banyu, got lost, and slept in a hotel.”
