He cuts me off with his palm against my mouth, and I can’t help myself. I stick my tongue out and lick him.
“We’re going to talk about this more later. When I don’t have to go run laps and kick footballs and pretend like I care about anything else besides you and your tight ass. Fucking tease.”
I smile against his palm, satisfied in leaving my mark before we go about our separate days.
21
HEN IN THE COCK HOUSE
Alex
Even though tonight’s game is part of the regular roster and counts towards the season, the air in Levi’s Center feels more like one of the off-season events the league puts on. Since everyone in the building is here to support the American Cancer Society, I think we all feel a little bit lighter. It’s hard to care about the outcome of a hockey game when we’re all playing for something so much bigger than us. The league agreed to loosen our pregame dress code so that we could arrive wearing colors that coordinate with various cancer ribbons instead of our usual suit and tie policy. I’m usually the only guy on the team who likes to explore the rainbow with my outfits ofchoice, so it was nice to see my guys in colors other than black and navy.
Most of the dudes on both teams took advantage of the casual theme, choosing to wear t-shirts and hoodies to show their support. Sarah battled with breast cancer a few years back, so Miles and I arrived in matching pink suits with t-shirts commemorating her remission date underneath as a shout out to his wife. Now that it’s hanging up in my cubby, I can’t seem to stop imagining the bubblegum pink slacks and jacket balled up on my bedroom floor after Elliot strips me out of them later.
I didn’t ask if his mom is staying in a hotel room tonight or if she’s staying at his place. Either way, I hope he’s planning on coming back to mine. I’ve gotten really used to sleeping beside him, and I don’t want to go to bed alone anymore.
Going through my pregame locker room routine, I flip my lucky puck three times, then I kiss my thumb and press it to the black-and-white photo of the great Bernie Parent I have taped to the corner. ‘I Got Nerve’ plays in my headphones, and when the song ends I close my eyes, count backwards from seven, and take four slow, deep breaths.
The only thing missing from my routine is Franny, but I feel good knowing that she’s safe out inthe stands with Elliot. Besides, I gave her extra good luck rubs before we parted ways earlier today.
I am so ready to go out there and win this game. Not just for my team or the cause we’re playing for, but so I can prove to Elliot that I’m worth more than just a superstition hook up.
I’m worthy of him.
“Hen in the cock house,” calls out Assistant Coach Jenny Collins, shielding her eyes as she walks into the room with a tablet in her hand. It’s become a running joke between her and us guys on the team since she joined the Thunder during exhibition last year. None of us care that there’s a woman in our locker room, and she’s not the least bit interested in seeing any of us naked, so having her here is a nonissue. But still, Coach Collins announces her presence the same way every time.
“We’re all dressed, Coach,” Miles calls out amongst the skittering laughter, and she makes a show of peeking out behind the hand in front of her eyes before pointing at me.
“Holmes, you’re needed out in the press room. There’s someone here to see you. Make it snappy, we’ve got warm-ups in fifteen minutes.”
“Who is it?” I ask, slipping my feet into a pair of slides. I’m rarely pulled from the locker room before a game, and I quickly shut down any naggingthoughts in my head about this interruption throwing off my routine. I don’t need any voices in my head telling me that leaving the locker room is going to fuck up my juju.
“No idea, Hannigan sent me to get you. Let’s go, we don’t have all day.”
I always feel a little silly waddling through the halls of the arena in my padding, but whatever this is about must be something important. I turn a corner, heading down a quiet hallway to the press room and collide padded-chest first with a wall that nearly knocks me off my feet.
“Look at you, Goat! Maybe I should start calling you Penguin, huh?”
Not a wall, then. Nope, it’s Elliot that I bump into. He’s standing in front of me wearing a black and gold Thunder jersey, cropped just enough to show the black waistband of his underwear peeking out of his low slung jeans and the trail of dark hair that I’m obsessed with dipping below and Franny strapped across his chest. He smiles at me, all bright white, straight teeth and perfect pink mouth, and for a moment, there’s nothing in my head except for Elliot and how much I love him. I don’t even think before stepping in close and capturing his lips with mine in a kiss just this side of chaste.
“What are you doing back here, babe?” I ask,noticing his cheeks have flushed an adorable shade of pink. A throat clears, and only then do I see the petite woman standing next to him in a matching jersey. With the same green eyes and golden brown hair, I don’t need an introduction to know that this is Elliot’s mom. She looks even younger than I imagined, like she could be Elliot’s sister instead of his mother. And either the man who donated the other half of Elliot’s DNA didn’t even try, or his mother’s genes are just that strong, because besides the height and gender disparity, the two of them look nearly identical.
“Mrs. Baker, it’s so nice to meet you.” I want to hug her, but I know my pads can’t smell all that appealing, so I settle for a handshake instead.
“Ugh, please, call me Nicole. And it’s nice to meet you too, Alex. I’ve heard so,somuch about you,” she says, bumping her hip against Elliot’s and shooting me an over-the-top wink. Elliot’s cheeks go even redder, but I pay no mind to his embarrassment. I knew he’d told his mom about our friendship, but knowing he’s told her more—and the fact that she didn’t even blink at our kiss—maybe that means that Elliot is feeling more for me, too.
“How’d you two even get back here? They don’t let anyone without a press pass down this hall.”
“Being the star kicker for the city’s favorite professional team has its perks, Goat.”
“Your team owner snuck you back?”
“Yep, totally.”
“Remind me to thank James next time I see him. Listen, babe, I don’t have much time?—”
“I know,” Nicole interrupts. “I asked Elliot to bring me back here because I wanted to ask you myself if you’d like to join us for a late dinner tonight. After your postgame obligations, of course. It’ll be my son’s treat.”
