“No. I don’t know shit, and honestly, right now, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve done enough this past week and I’m over it,” I growl, pulling my pants and boxers down, not giving a flying fuck that his eyes immediately fly down to my cock. “Eyes up here, Zan. Wouldn’t want to think you’re eye fucking me or anything,” I snarl and walk to the bathroom.
“Jesus fuck, Bash. I–” But I slam the door, locking it. Turning the water on, I stare at myself in the mirror. Why do I let him get to me? I allow him to burrow himself underneath my skin, infesting every muscle, every vessel until he consumes me. I hate it. “Please, Bash. Let me in. We need to talk,” he shouts over the water.
“Go away, Zan. I don’t want to talk,” I yell back.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’ve been saying we needed to have a conversation. Please. I need answers,” he pleads, and I laugh, stepping into the shower as I let the hot water cascade over my cold skin. He pounds on the door but I ignore him. All the times I wanted to talk he wouldn’t give me the time of day, but now that I’ve dismissed him, not only in front of our teammates but after making each other cum, now he wants to talk. Nope. I’m good. I’m sick of bending for him. So now, I’m going to make sure he regrets all the shit he’s done, and when, or if he gets the memo, maybe then we can have that conversation. But until then, I’m staying far away from him. Or at least I’m going to try to.
The crowd cheers when I sail the puck across the ice right into the goal.Fuck yeah, I’m on fire tonight.I skate around the rink and Zan passes me the puck. I weave in and out, then pass it back to him. He shoots and he scores, winning the game. The crowd goes wild, and we cheer for our first win of the season.Hell yeah. The atmosphere here is absolutely electrifying and I can’t wait to get out of my gear to celebrate. We gather into a line and fist bump the opposing team then hit the locker room. Everyone is riding the high of the win, planning our night ahead.
“Vos, you coming out tonight?” Trent yells from across the room.
“Yep. What’s the plan?” I ask, taking off my gloves and leaning my stick against my locker. Sitting on the bench, I untie my skates, pulling them off my feet.
“No idea, but we gotta do something fun.” He laughs, and I shake my head.
I don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to celebrate our win.
“Party at the sorority house,” someone yells, and everyone cheers.
“You coming tonight?” Zan asks, coming up behind me.
“Yeah,” I answer, saying nothing more.
“Good. Be ready in an hour,” he states then walks away. Why do I get the feeling he’s up to no good? Fuck it. Tonight I’m getting piss drunk and I won’t be thinking about him at all. Right? Right.
Chapter 10
Lyzander Corbit
My phone rings in my pocket as we walk towards the sorority house. Taking it out, I see it’s my dad and I press the green button.
“Hey, Pops. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just checking in. I know it’s late but I just got off the plane and figured I’d see how tonight’s game went.”
“We won! First game of the year. Now I’m on my way with some of the guys from the team to a sorority party,” I tell him, and he laughs.
“Atta boy. Congrats on the win. Before I let you go, I’d really like it if you came home for Thanksgiving,” he says, and I smile.
“I’m coming home, Pops. Don’t worry. Remember, I have a girlfriend and I’m pretty sure she’d be pissed if I didn’t come home,” I say, but he clears his throat as I hear commotion in the background.
“Yeah, sorry, son. I forgot about that girl. Anyways, I gotta run and get my luggage. Talk soon.”
“Have a good night, Pops,” I say and the line goes dead. Putting my phone back in my pocket, Trent hands me the bottle we’ve been pregaming with.
“Anyone wanna smoke on this?” Max shouts, passing the joint to me.Fuck!
“We aren’t supposed to be smoking. What if Coach tests us,” I state, and they laugh like they know something I don’t.
“It’s not real weed. It's synthetic and won’t come up on a drug test. Trust me,” he says, and I nod, taking it from him. Just as I bring it to my lips, Bash nudges me and shakes his head.
“Don’t do it,” he warns, and I laugh.
“Oh, he speaks more than one word. Fuck you!” I snide and take a hit off the prerolled then pass it back to Max. “What’s it called?” I ask, and he stops short to relight it.
“Nyxen.”
“Nice. It’s smooth as fuck. Damnnn, man,” I say. Bash storms off ahead of us, and I keep drinking as we walk. At this rate, I’ll be hammered before I step a foot inside the house. I don’t care though, nothing can sour my mood. We fucking won and that alone is something to celebrate.
