Game Changer (Game Changers, #1)
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Read between October 20 - October 22, 2025
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And also to the random Gap model who was my physical reference for Kip.
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“Yeah. All the names here are kinda dumb.” The man pointed a long finger at Kip’s name tag. “I like your name.” Kip glanced at his own name on the tag, as if he didn’t know what it said. Like an idiot.
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Getting up before five to be at work before six was ridiculous. Especially for minimum wage.
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He handed the star athlete his smoothie and tried not to focus too closely on the way his lips wrapped around the straw. It was difficult because Scott was looking directly at him as he took his first sip.
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Scott sat at one of the little bistro tables with his back to the door (and his face to Kip).
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“No, listen to me. You are ridiculously good-looking. Do you think I’m happy that you’re gay? I am not.”
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“Like how we’re sitting in his personal seats because he personally gave you his personal tickets when he visited you at work for the third time this week?” Kip was blushing now. “He’s just superstitious,” he mumbled, “that’s all.”
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Either way, it had made Scott absurdly happy to see him sitting in that arena. Happier still to see that he had brought a female friend with him, because Kip had implied that he was attracted to men. At least, Scott was pretty sure that was what had happened.
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Scott was not bisexual. What the world didn’t know was that he wasn’t straight either. He’d known he was gay for a long time.
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But there was something about Kip. Scott couldn’t even name it. Obviously he was good-looking (he’s fucking gorgeous, Scott, come on), with those dimples and those eyes.
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There was just something about him. Scott wanted to talk to him for hours, and find out everything about him. Show him everything. Give him everything.
8%
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“So that was a shit show,” Huff said. “You’re not kidding,” Scott said. “I don’t even know what to say.” “I mean, I’m not the captain, but maybe like, ‘Hey, fuckheads. Stop playing such shitty hockey.’ Or something.”
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Kip was just an eager-to-please nerd who couldn’t figure his own life out.
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“It wasn’t charging. No fucking way that was charging,” Zullo spat. “Except the part where you charged him.”
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He desperately tried to think of something else to ask him. But all he could think about was how soft Kip’s hair looked.
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Scott placed a hand on Kip’s free arm, needing to make contact somehow. “It was nice seeing you, Kip.”
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Their eyes met a couple of times. The first time, Scott quickly looked away, embarrassed. The second time, though, he let his gaze linger, and he was rewarded with an adorable grin from Kip that caused Scott’s stomach to flip. Oh no, Hunter. You are in trouble.
12%
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Dressed like he was, you almost couldn’t tell he was Scott Hunter. But Kip knew. And he knew that Scott Hunter had frantically bought souvenir clothing so he could go on a date with him.
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He’s just a guy. He’s just a really hot, enormous guy who’s famous and beloved and…cold.
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“You’re allowed to complain.” Scott smiled at him. “I’m really not. It would get me despised by everyone.” “Well, you can complain to me.” The way Scott looked at him then, Kip would never forget it. If they were alone, and if he were someone else and Scott were someone else, he would have expected Scott to lunge across the table and haul him into a hungry kiss.
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He finally sighed, and turned his eyes up to meet Kip’s. “It’s just nice. Doing this.” “Hanging out with someone?” “With you.”
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“I want you to fuck me,” Scott said.
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“You’re leaving?” Scott sounded disappointed. Kip paused, holding his jeans in one hand, his T-shirt in the other. “Yeah, I mean…” “You don’t have to,” Scott said. “You can stay. I… I’d like you to stay. If you want.”
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Maybe it was too much to hope for something that could take him away from all of that. Or maybe that thing had just walked out of his apartment, after a whispered promise that he’d see him tomorrow.
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Kip was smart. Smart and gorgeous. And a really good kisser.
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Scott couldn’t stand it anymore. He reached for Kip, who came to him immediately. Scott kissed him and an instant calm settled throughout his body. He had needed this so badly. He had been thinking of almost nothing but Kip’s mouth for over two days. It was a miracle that he had played as well as he had in the two games since his and Kip’s night together.
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Kip didn’t say anything. He wanted to hear what Scott was going to say next. “I want to. Date you. I know we barely know each other, but…” Emotion bubbled inside him, pushing a lump into his throat. “Me too,” he choked out.
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“You won’t have to settle for anything,” Scott murmured against his ear. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
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Scott stroked the backs of his fingers over Kip’s face. “It’s completely selfish, actually. I want to see you in a tux that was tailored to your gorgeous body. I might not be able to dance with you that night, but you’ll know I’ll be wishing I was.”
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“Scott here is saving himself for marriage,” Carter said, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “And he’s saving marriage for after he dies.”
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I just…like telling you things about me.”
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“Tell me everything that happened. I just want to hear your voice.”
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“Bennett’s mad,” he said. “I can see that Bennett is mad. I’m watching the game.”
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But Scott had scored one of those goals, and Kip had smiled at the idea that the goal was for him.
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When the alarm on his phone woke him at five the next morning, he saw a message from Scott, sent at 1:30 a.m.: I’d give anything to see you right now.
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Boston had their own star center, a hotshot Russian named Ilya Rozanov. He was cocky, brash, flashy…everything Scott wasn’t. And the fans loved him.
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He had gotten good at ignoring the yappy Russian, but sometimes Scott just wanted to hit him into next week.
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Scott was in a mood, though. If Rozanov rode him too much tonight, Scott might just punch him.
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They watched Scott being hauled off to the penalty box. He was still yelling what appeared to be very strong words at Rozanov over his shoulder. “Rozanov deserved it,” Kip said. “You might be a bit biased.” “Rozanov is a fucking dick.” “Well, nice guy Scott Hunter just punched him in the face.”
Han Bento
POOKIE NOOOOOO (firmly believe he probably deserved it)
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They had been nothing like the times he had been with Kip. Scott had carefully stored the memory of every kiss and touch and moan Kip had given him, and had filled the lonely hours on the road by replaying them over and over again. He was smitten. That was the only word for it.
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“Okay,” he said when dinner was ready. “Go sit down. I want to bring it over to you looking all nice on the plate.”
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“I was thinking,” Scott said after a couple of bites, “it’s not just Valentine’s Day that we’re celebrating tonight.” “Oh?” “It was also one month ago today that I met you for the first time.”
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“Socks,” he said. “Yeah, they’re kinda like the color of blueberries. Or, like, the color of your smoothie that you get. I thought maybe you could wear them when you’re on the road. It would be like bringing the good luck with you?” Scott ran his thumb over the soft material of the socks, completely speechless.
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“This is nice,” Kip murmured. He could actually fall asleep in here. “It’s perfect.” They were quiet for a while, and then Scott said, “When I first looked at this place, and I saw this tub, I thought, ‘It’s big enough for two.’ And I know it’s dumb, but I always wanted… I imagined sharing it with someone.”
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“Sorry,” Scott said, “I know we’ve only been… I mean, I shouldn’t be suggesting—” “I don’t know how I got to be so lucky,” Kip interrupted, “but being able to share anything with you makes me really happy.”
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“I would share anything with you, Kip. Give you anything.”
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I’m not using you to escape anything. I love my life. I love my job. The fame part is a little much sometimes, but I don’t mind it. I’m happy, is what I’m saying. But this? You? I feel like…like I found the missing piece.”
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“So…” Kip said, “what did Rozanov say that made you punch him like that?” Scott laughed, a little darkly. “Oh. Nothing really. I was taking out my frustrations on his face. He just yapped some dumb shit at me. Normal stuff.” “You’re not gonna tell me?” Scott sighed. “He told me he was disappointed because he’d heard I was, quote, ‘good at hockey again.’”
Han Bento
hes such a brat
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“How are you feeling?” Scott asked after a bit. “A little guilty, to be honest.” “Don’t. I love doing this. I love touching you, looking at you. I’ve denied myself anything like this for so long… Don’t feel guilty.”
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“You’re so beautiful, Kip. I’ve never…” Kip waited. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this before. I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. I’ve been attracted to men, of course. Hooked up with men. But you… I’m breaking all my rules with you.”
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