Page 88 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

I want to tell them he’s so much more than his on-ice persona. He’s funny and smart and warm. He’s caring and really fucking kind. He kisses like he’s gonna win a championship cup for it, and I don’t even want to think about what he feels like inside me or I’ll pop wood in front of them.

Travis is fucking everything.

I’m in love with him.

Dammit. I fucking love him.

And I have to figure out how to deal with that until maybe someday we can really be together.

First time I’ve ever been in love and we have to be apart.

I want to scream it from the rooftops, put up billboards, tell everyone I know that I’m bisexual and absolutely insanely in love with Travis Showalter.

Maybe I should start by telling him.

My stomach flutters at the thought. Could I? How would he react? Would it just make the distance between us worse?

Dragging my hand through my hair, I watch Trav score another goal on the power play, making it 5-2 with a few minutes left to play.

A smile dances on my lips when the game ends minutes later and Boston wins. The team swarms around Trav in celebration, and then Trav looks at the camera, his gaze as clear as if he were standing in front of me. He winks and I chuckle.

“You did good,” I whisper.

“Damn show-off,” Gagnon mutters, but there’s no venom in his tone.

“He didn’t get the nickname for nothing,” Diego says.

If only they knew what he does behind closed doors. He definitely lives up to his moniker.

While I sip my final beer, my phone buzzes with a text.

SHOW: Bozy! Did you watch the game?

BEAU: Of course. You were on fire.

SHOW: I was. Give me an hour then I want you on your bed, naked and waiting for me when I call.

My cock swells reading the words, and before I can respond another text comes through.

SHOW: I need you.

It feels so damn good to know that even riding the high of his win, he wants to talk to me.

BEAU: Two hours. You should have a drink with the team.

SHOW: Fine. Damn you. Two hours, then it’s on. Get that pretty hole ready. I need to see it.

BEAU: You’re on.

SHOW: Whose hole is it, Beau?

Fuck. He’s trying to kill me.

BEAU: Yours.

SHOW: That’s fucking right. Talk soon.

“Someone’s getting laid tonight,” Cooper says, grinning at me. “Judging by the expression on your face.”