Baety slips off the couch, landing onto the carpeted floor.
“Oh shit. That didn’t look good. I hope I didn’t break my little baby within a few hours of adopting her.”
As if to confirm that the fall didn’t affect her, Baety shakes her fluffy feathers, her small body vibrating with the motion. It reminds me of a dog shaking itself somehow.
“I think she’s ok.” I want to reassure Tucker, but I don’t get the chance to say anything else because the duck finds his discarded boxer briefs and takes a piece of the fabric into her beak.
“Baety, no.” Tucker scolds her. “Those are Daddy's.”
The scene that unfolds is as funny as it is unbelievable. The small creature begins dragging away Tucker’s underwear with remarkable speed.
Quack, quack!
Baety takes off headed to the hallway that leads to the apartment’s door, and Tucker takes chase. Buck naked.
I follow to make sure that neither of them ends up injured. In reality, I’m more concerned about Tucker. While the duckling sneaks under the coffee table, Tucker almost face plants when he runs into it.
“Fuck. Baety, wait.”
Then he trips over his own clothes but recovers with surprising agility for such a tall man. I guess it comes with the territory for a hockey goalie.
Quack.
I stop by Tucker’s bedroom doorjamb as the chase comes to a standstill.
Baety finds refuge under the plush chair opposite the bed.
“Baety Swalls, you better come out of there.” He says with his hands on his hips.
Quack.
The front door opens, and the guys’ voices reach us before they begin appearing next to me one by one.
“What are Tucker’s clothes doing on the floor?” Colsen asks.
“I guess someone got lucky… oh look, pizza.”
Tucker hasn’t moved an inch from his position in the middle of the room when he calls out to his teammates. “Guys, over here.”
“What in the ever loving fuck am I looking at?” Colsen snorts when he reaches the bedroom door.
“Dude, are you ok?” Mack chuckles around a bite of leftover pizza. “Hey Tar.”
I can only imagine how this must look to them.
Tucker’s cock is still semi-hard as he scowls at his rescue duck who, in the meantime, has made a little nest for herself, wrapping her little body in his underwear under the chair.
“I think someone has an underwear fetish.” Nash is laughing, but his probing green gaze is fixed on me.
As relief floods me because I’m not naked right now, I know I have to find some time to speak to Nash and find out what he knows about my last night on campus.
Avoiding him is turning out to be impossible, and deep down, I don’t think I want to.
“Maybe you should just let her keep those.” Colsen muses, referring to Baety.
“No, man.” Tucker argues. “I don’t want her to get into this habit. My fucking underwear is off-limits, Baety. That’s a very bad baby girl. And cockblocking Daddy is uncool.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
