“What did the trainer say?”
“Mild concussion.”
“Fuck.” I groan. “How long are you out for?”
“At least two weeks.”
“That takes us basically to the ECAC conference final?” Shit. Without Archangel, we might not make it to the championship game let alone win our conference.
“I’ll at least be back for the Frozen Four. Which we should qualify for.”
“Maybe. And what if we don’t qualify?” Most players are cleared in two or three weeks, but what if it’s worse? “How do you feel?”
“I have a headache.”
“Let me get dressed, and I’ll take you home.” I grab my towel, but he stops me.
“We’ve never been alone in the locker room like this.”
“Yes, we have.”
What is he talking about?
“Not since we started hooking up.” He tugs at my towel, but I grab his hand.
“You have a concussion.”
“That doesn’t make my mouth not work.”
“I don’t think that much head movement is recommended.”
“Are you a doctor now?” He fights my grip.
“How can you possibly be horny with a headache?”
“My love for your cock knows no bounds.” He looks up at me with his beautiful blue eyes, and I almost give in.
My dick hardens under my towel, and he looks triumphant. “That doesn’t mean yes!” I back up.
“I’m injured, and you’re so mean!”
“Right, caring about your brain damage is mean.” I take my clothes to change somewhere else.
“At least let me watch.”
“Are you going to behave?”
He pouts. “Yes…if you promise to fuck me when we get home.”
“I am not fucking you, but if you’re up for it, I will make you come.”
“How are you going to make me come without fucking me?” He acts like we haven’t had sex multiple other ways.
“I have hands and a mouth.”
His eyes go wide. “What?”
“You heard me.” I drop my towel and let him watch me get dressed.
