Stubborn Puckboy (Puckboys, #9)

by Eden Finley

My off-season was spent attending other people’s weddings, fielding messages from Ezra, and visiting glory holes. What a life.

Fuck. My gut hollows like the morning after having too much to drink. But the man who walks in behind Nowak … it takes me a second to recognize him. The chubby cheeks are gone, and in their place is a strong jawline. His shoulders and chest are broader, his black hair is longer, and those concentration lines in his forehead have become permanent, along with the happy creases by his eyes. Colby Kessinger is no longer the young man who taunted my attraction. Now, he’s much, much worse.

I’ve seen him lose the tough exterior before. I know he can do it. The hard part is getting him alone, away from prying eyes. I need to somehow catch him while he’s in his comfort zone. Which is how I come up with a brilliant—or not-so-brilliant—plan of taking his car keys from his bag in the locker room, unlocking his car, returning the keys, and then going back after my shift to slip into his back seat.

LMAAAAOOOO GIRL WHAT THE FUCK

and if I have learned anything the last three days, it’s that if I look at Colby Kessinger, it is hard to stop.

It’s only once I reach my locker that I realize it looks like I was running away from him. Radimir Novicov doesn’t run from anyone. Not even messy, sexy, annoying men who I wish had stayed in my past.

“I asked if you had boyfriends—past tense. Not now.” “How do you know I don’t have one now?” This time when he leans closer, his leg presses up against my thigh, and that minor contact instantly has my body overheating. “Because I see the way you look at me, Novi. It’s the exact same way I look at you.”

Novi’s contemplating it. Us. Hooking up. He glances around the bar like he’s committing every person in here to memory in case he needs to track them down and kill them afterward. I wouldn’t put it past him. If it all came out that Novi was sent here as a Russian spy and actually moonlights as an assassin, I’d believe it. Though, it would be impossible to pull it off with his schedule. Maybe his kills take place in the off-season.

It’s probably the only thing holding me back from saying something like he has to take care of his knees because the minute he retires from hockey, I plan to put them to good use.

This time, my grin is a real one. “Problem for you.” I shoot my drink as another text comes through. “Ah. That is another article about my supreme skill. Excuse me as I read more about how I am the best in the universe.” A barrage of ice hits my back as I walk away. I will miss their love when I retire.

Even though I don’t anticipate having those kinds of issues with Novi. No, if I were ever having to go to my boss to talk about a situation with Novi, it would be that my teenagery crush on him from a billion years ago has made me do something stupid like put my career on the line for a quick orgasm. I don’t want Radimir Novicov to be my downfall, but at this point, it might be too late to stop it.

“I am young and beautiful. Very energetic. Lots of stamina.” And this is why I can’t interact with him. If he doesn’t know what he’s saying, he’s adorable. If he knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s sadistic.

He looks back up at me, and when his gray eyes meet mine, I decide they might be my favorite color I have ever seen.

I kiss Colby in a way that feels like the most natural thing I have experienced. When my fingers twist in his hair, it is as easy as a slap shot. When our hard cocks rut together, it is as instinctive as slamming a player into the boards. And when our tongues meet, when he feeds me his hunger and I give him mine back, it’s that out-of-body high I felt the first time I hoisted the Stanley Cup. Kissing Colby might be better than hockey.

“There’s only one thing about tonight I regret,” I say. “And that’s not knowing you’d never kissed someone before. If I had known, I would’ve made it special.” “It was special.” “How was it special? It was quick and lustful. It might have been passionate, but it was more about sex than the kiss.” “It was special because it was with you.” Damn, if that’s not the most perfect thing he could’ve said.

I hope Colby is watching. It’s his job to, so he will be, but I hope he’s really watching watching. After my amazing follow-up game in Dallas, I decided I’m going on a streak. Since that game, I’ve kicked Utah’s ass, and now we’re in Colorado, and I’m planning to annihilate them. All for Colby. I am showing off for him, and that has breathed new life into my game. Tonight is one of the funnest games I have played in a long time. My skates have wings, my hits don’t miss, and I sank one motherfucker of a goal.

I am a selfish man. Sulking about not being able to have a boyfriend, or keep my friends, or speak up and be a role model for younger LGBTQ kids. Some people in the league do not want all that responsibility, but I do. I want to wear the jerseys, I want to use rainbow tape, I want to marry a man and plaster my husband all over social media. I want to be the You Can Play spokesperson. I want other people to see me the way I see Ezra Palaszczuk. Fearless.

My nerves soar. This is promising. We can talk when he gets here and work some things out. At least face-to-face, Colby will not be able to resist my boyish charms.

I laugh. “I should be flattered that you went to such lengths to see me, but you’re being reckless again.” “Not reckless. Romantic.” “I don’t think you understand what that means in English.” “Locking you in a room so I can kiss you without you getting away is not romantic?” I pretend to think about it. “It’s one of those things where it’s only romantic if the other person wants it. Otherwise, I think it’s called kidnapping.”

All through the video meeting, I’m distracted watching Colby. He is so sexy. The athletic sweatpants might not be gray and cotton, but they’re tight and slutty, leaving nothing to my imagination. And he calls me a flirt.

I want to bring relaxed Colby back. Seeing him so filled with tension whenever we’re together in public only reminds me that while he’s making me happy, I’m doing the opposite for him. Stress can also lead to heart attacks. I don’t want him to have a heart attack. I need his heart. I’m going to win it one day.

“The same can be said for Stockholm syndrome, so don’t get too excited.” His expression softens. “But how many other men would sneak up on me in the dead of night to jump-start my heart like that?” “See? I make your heart race. Like you do me.” “And I can promise you no one has ever made my heart race like that.” “So you’re saying I’m one of a kind?” “Something like that.” Colby steps back. “But since this is all friendship, I guess I better get dressed.” Then the teasing bastard flicks open his towel and lets it fall to the ground. My gaze immediately tracks over him, remembering all those times in the locker room I secretly wished for this to happen. He’s half-hard, his body still as sexy as ever, and when he turns to walk up the hall, displaying that delicious ass, I have to bite my fist against the need. “Put on clothes,” I beg. “Lots and lots of clothes.”

He laughs. “Didn’t even cross my mind. I was thinking more along the lines of you wanting something with a certain person because you have history, but you also can’t go there because you’re his coach, and that would cross a lot of lines, so you reached out to the PR manager who fucked his hockey player and got fired because of it.”

sometimes it feels so lazy to me to just have the other person know exactly what's going on without the OG person saying anything. or maybe im just bitter because no one takes the time to know ME this well lmao

She’s not intimidating. She’s not. “Need me to take all the knives?” Novi lowers his voice, but Elena must hear him because she snorts. “Of course not,” I say. Loudly. But my eyes must say something else because Novi picks up the knife block and tucks it under his arm. “Let’s go, kids!”

We came together when we were both ready, and now that I know what it’s like to lose him, I’m never going to do it again. Colby is the only man who can match me. The only one I’ll ever be satisfied with.

As much as that fantasy teases me though, I know it won’t happen. Colby has been even more distant at work than usual, and I understand that he is trying to protect his job, but I wish that it didn’t need protecting. Our relationship is beautiful and wholesome—we should be allowed to flaunt the perfection and make everyone insanely jealous of our love.