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But it isn’t.
He has been able to do something no one has ever been able to do. He made me forget and let go. I lost control, and I let him take it. I lost my head, and it felt good.
He felt good.
And I can’t stop thinking about it. About him. I hate that he was the one to make me feel good, and feel like myself, for the first time in a long time.
I hate him… and I also hate that I want him.
My eyes once again find his selfie that is still open on my phone screen. As I look at his smile, I’m reminded of the all the words he has said to me since we started working together. The subtle and not so subtle hints at being interested, and the way his eyes roam over my body.
“It should be obvious by now, Tyler, that I think you’re hot.”
I’m surprised by the excitement I feel at those words, and not only because I’ve always considered myself straight. For some reason, that doesn’t even seem to matter to me. The fact I am feeling excitement at all is overriding every question I have about why I enjoyed having a guy suck my dick. My biggest hang up is that it’s Luca causing this excitement.
Suddenly a new text comes through the group chat, and my stomach flips as Luca’s smile fills the screen with a new selfie.
Dominated tonight! And hell yeah, we’ll make a plan tomorrow!
He’s wearing hockey gear in the photo, holding up a peace sign with a huge smile. His hair is damp with sweat and sticking out in every direction, and I can’t help but let a small smile form on my lips.
“Let go, Ty…”
I zoom in on the photo, to the sign on the wall behind him.
Kirkwood Rink.
That just happens to be around the corner from here…
SEVENTEEN
“You’re coming next week, right?” Dan asks me as we exit the dressing room in the arena.
“Fucking right I am.” I give him a big smile. “After that win, I’m hooked. That was awesome.”
“Sick.” He holds out a fist for me to bump, and I adjust my hockey bag on my shoulder to oblige. “You working tomorrow?” he asks.
“I haven’t had a call yet, so unless something comes through in the morning, I’m not too sure.” I shrug. I’ve been thinking about this all day. I baked hard last night, worked today, and then had hockey this evening, so I haven’t given myself time to obsess too much over a certain brooding bastard. But maybe I should brood for a bit. It might help.
Or make it worse…
“Well, if you do come in, I’ll see you tomorrow. Otherwise, maybe we’ll grab a beer or something soon,” Dan says as we make our way out of the arena and into the now dark parking lot outside.
“Absolutely,” I nod in agreement, “just let me know when.”
“Awesome. Well, have a good night.” Dan smiles and gives a little wave as he heads towards his car.
“Night,” I call to him, as I turn towards my Jeep.
I sigh, shifting my stick to my other hand so I can adjust the bag on my shoulder again. As I walk in the dark, nearly empty parking lot, the silence consumes me. I hate silence. It fuels the mess in my head and forces me to think the things I’ve been trying not to think about. Things like –
Ty Roscoe.
I stop suddenly before my Jeep, my heart nearly stopping as well.
He’s leaning against the driver’s side door, arms crossed, and looking all kinds of sexy in black jeans and a black hoodie. He doesn’t say anything, as he just stands there, observing me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breaking the silence, and hating that I’m the one to do it. He’s the one leaning against my car.
