Power Plays & Straight A's (CU Hockey, #1)

by Eden Finley

“We don’t play dirty,” Coach says. “That was either personal or you’ve suddenly forgotten the rules of checking. So are you a selfish asshole who put your personal shit before the team, or are you a dumbass?” Those are my only options? I feel like this is a trick question. “Selfish?” That’s better than being a dumbass, right?

It’s suddenly only now occurring to me that …” That maybe this was a booty call? And maybe I would have been fine with that if my balls weren’t about to explode like Mentos in a Coke bottle.

I need to find a student handbook or school bylaws that will tell me it’s okay to fuck my TA.

I kiss along his wet skin and press against him, my hard cock digging into his back. Zach turns in my arms. “I knew it wouldn’t take long for the good boy claim to go down the drain.” “Hey, I’m being a good boy. My dick isn’t. You should punish it. Maybe with some light choking.”

“Umm … well, how do you, like, choose if you’re a top or a bottom?” “There’s a sorting hat. Like in Harry Potter. It wasn’t even placed on my head before it screamed, ‘Top!’ and then all the other tops welcomed me to their house.”

I wish I could label myself as any hole’s a goal, but apparently that’s crass. Who knew?”

It might be the whole caveman, look, I have skills thing. Only, unlike back in caveman days where they would do something productive like fish or make fire, I’m putting a six-ounce disc into a net. I am man.

My big, bad, hockey player reputation could be at stake if anyone found out, but I couldn’t care less. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, star forward for the Colchester Mountain Lions is a cuddler.

It’s long past time I told them, and I know it has to happen sooner or later, but I was kinda hoping for it to be way later. Like, at my wedding, maybe. Hey, Mom and Dad, did I forget to tell you I was marrying a dude? Oops. Happy wedding day to me!

“Stats always make me happy.” “Yeah, but when you point out that only twenty-six percent of bi people come out because the rest of the world can’t be bothered to educate themselves on what being bi means … it’s shitty.”

It’s interesting how deeply our animal instincts run. Every time Foster shows off his strength, I’m putty in his hands. I understand what’s happening, but the chemicals overriding my brain are addictive.

You’re not only my boyfriend.” He’s so much more. A lot more than I can put into words. “I’m not?” He blinks up at me. I shake my head. “You’re as much a part of my future as hockey is.” “A-are you sure? Because part of me wonders if you should be psychoanalyzed.”

He wraps his arms around my neck, and we blindly fumble our way inside, kissing and groping. “Hey, how was Wiscon—” My brother’s voice cuts off. “Ooh, look at that. I’m gonna go walk the dog.” I wave him off but then his words register. I force my lips away from Zach’s but don’t let him go. “We don’t have a dog.” “Fine. I’m getting out of the house so I don’t have to watch or listen to”—he gestures to us—“that. Bye.”

“I was supposed to say it first.” “Ah, but you didn’t. I did. So now I’ll always have bragging rights.” “That’s … completely, ah—” “Zach, I think the words you’re searching for are I love you too, Foster.” I scowl. “Well, now I’m not so sure.” “Repeat after me: I love you, Foster.” “Do I?”

Foster’s lips brush mine. “Say it.” And how can I not? How can I hold back something so big that it both confuses me and seems blindingly clear? “I love you too.” “Of course you do.” Foster’s lips find my ear. “But I loved you first.”