More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Oskar Voyjik didn’t only show up unannounced, but he brought nearly the whole Queer Collective with him. Almost every queer man in the NHL is at my doorstep, trying to be quiet and snickering to themselves like a bunch of dumbasses.
He shoves me toward Aleks. “You take your future husband.”
“Zing,” he whispers
“Damn.” Aleks slaps his helmet, bright eyes fixed on me, and only snaps out of it when his team starts to leave the ice. “I gotta go. You better watch me.” “Why the fuck do you think I’m here?”
I’ll get you that blowjob, even if I have to pay him.” “That’s prostitution.” “Nothing wrong with sex work.” “Except you’ve already accused Gabe of being a stripper multiple times when he’s not. Can you please try not to be so shameless tonight?” “Ugh. You’re starting to sound exactly like Lane.” His voice goes high-pitched. “‘Have pride in who you are and what you’ve accomplished, Oskar. You deserve respect.’ You’re both gross. If I wanna be cheap and nasty, let me be cheap and nasty.”
I’m in my head about it all. It’s been so. Fucking. Long. I don’t really even know how to flirt anymore.
One kiss from him was enough to rearrange gravity,
It’s easy to say it’s because I’ve never been with a man. I’m worried about not knowing how to give good head and that it will be an awkward experience, but if I look deeper, I think those are only surface-level issues. “I’m scared I won’t be enough.”

