Page 13 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

I hurry through my shower as my stomach growls for sustenance, but as my soapy hands move down my body, I pause on my dick, stroking it as it comes to life. Glancing at the door, I make a quick decision to jerk one out, but before I can get too far into it, Trav busts through the door, looking down at his phone and heading straight for the toilet.

It’s right next to the shower, giving me a view of his dick as he tugs his pants down to piss. I force my gaze away and turn my back so he won’t see my semi in case he looks.

He leaves as quickly as he came, closing the door behind him, making me feel too jittery to actually do anything about the lingering, unresolved horniness. I finish washing up and head back into the room with a towel around my waist.

Trav is sitting in the armchair again, chewing on a piece of gum.

“I thought you were done with the pepper gum.”

He nods. “I am. This is spearmint, but my new shipment is being overnighted to the Toronto hotel we’re staying at tomorrow.”

Chuckling, I drop my towel and bend over to grab a fresh pair of briefs. When I stand up, Trav looks away, his cheeks turning slightly pink. Was he checking out my ass? Nah. He probably just looked up at the same moment I bent over.

He stands and slips into the bathroom and I finish getting dressed. While I wait, I scroll through my phone, catching up on useless gossip and news I don’t want to know.

Trav appears minutes later, as wet as he was earlier this morning.

“After lunch, we should go to the boutique Peters told us about. The one with the shoes he says feel like walking on clouds. Maybe we can snag some before we have to catch the bus.”

“Good call. I’ll look up the address.”

Trav drops his towel and now it’s my turn to check out his ass. A weird flutter stirs in my stomach as I force my gaze away and text Peters to ask him the name of the shop.

Minutes later, we’re heading out into the city, back to normal, being the best friends we’ve always been. His methods might be strange, but damn, they work.

Stepping onto Toronto ice feels good. The energy in the arena is contagious and I’ve always enjoyed the vibe here. They aren’t the strongest team, but their fans are loyal and passionate.

Trav is especially buoyant tonight, joking with all the guys and spreading his infectious optimism through the team. He grabs my shoulders from behind.

“Tonight is all that matters, Bozy. You got that?”

“I got it.”

“Good. Shall we?”

Nodding, I dip my head and he tangles his fingers through my hair. We hear a few excited chants from the crowd, and it feels good to know there are at least a few Boston fans in the seats.

“How’s the Finnish gum treating you?” I ask.

Trav grins and winks. “Like magic. We’ve got this.”

“Fuck yeah, we do.”

Show faces off with Toronto’s captain and wins, skating off like he’s got wings. I’m right beside him with Harlson on my other side, and with some fancy stick-handling, Trav slides the puck into Toronto’s net, giving us an early lead.

He high-fives me and the guys, then we skate off the ice for the next line to go out.

“That was magic out there,” Klaussen yells as he takes to the ice. “Ya fucking beauties.”

The game is going well for us, me and Trav finding our flow, but our goalie is struggling.

“What the fuck is going on with Nilsson?” I ask Trav as we skate to our bench again.

“No fucking clue, but he better get it together.”

“We’re working our asses off to keep Toronto away from the net, but we can’t do it all.”

Coach is obviously frustrated too, yelling at Nilsson to protect the net. Our second line is hustling out there, scrambling to keep the puck away from Nilsson, but Toronto manages to get it through, making the score 3-2 in their favor.