Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 37055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Richie lets out a noise between a cheer and a greeting, and a moment later, he’s jumping on a guy who’s just arrived. He’s another hockey player—of course—and even if I don’t know who he is, I vaguely recognize him from the games Seth used to drag me to.
Only up close though, my gut flips at the sight of him.
He’s gorgeous. Dark hair and eyes, easy smile, and mm … large hands that I can already picture running lazily down my sides.
The CU Hockey team has the reputation for being a queer safe space since a number of their players have been openly out, but this guy … Rossi, they call him, hasn’t been mentioned in the running tally of queer players.
I subtly tug Seth closer to me as the four hockey players catch up. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“Tyson …”
“He’s so beautiful. If there’s any fairness in the universe, that man will bend me over this balcony and take my sweet virginity.”
“Virginity?” Seth snorts. “He’s at least eight years too late.”
“But you’re saying there’s hope? He could be my booty bandit? My rump raider?”
Seth stares at me, mouth open, then shrugs. “I have no clue, but I beg you not to ask him to pillage your posterior.”
“Depends. Do you think it’ll work?”
He looks like he’s about to shoot me down, when he glances back at Rossi. “I’d say at this point, anything’s worth a try.”
Don’t I know it? There’s a common complaint in the gay community about there being way more bottoms than tops, which could be totally inaccurate but is holding true in my case. Queer men are like Tupperware containers, and I’m out here trying to find my perfect clip-lock compadre.
I bite my lip as I look over at all that sex wrapped up in one perfect package. “Chances that he swings my way?”
“Slim. I think Richie’s said before that he’s straight, but if I’m proof of anything, it’s that there’s no point assuming.”
“Okay.” “Slim” means there’s still a chance, so any odds other than zero are in my favor. “And what are the odds that he’ll give me a broken nose if I proposition him?”
“None. If he is straight, he’ll laugh you off and wish you luck. Rossi is cool.”
I drain my glass. “I’m going in, then.”
Seth catches my arm before I can leave him. “Might want to try and catch him solo. On the off chance you ever have to face Beck again, you don’t want him to witness this. Trust me.”
Okay, fair point. My embarrassment meter is basically nonexistent, but I guess if I want a possibly closeted or private guy to do me, I should probably hit him up on the down low.
Jacobs and Beck eventually head back inside their place to welcome more guests, and I nudge Seth, then nod in Rossi’s direction.
Seth joins his boyfriend and pulls me after them. “Hey, Rossi. Congrats on graduating.”
“Thanks. I’m so glad all those assessments are behind me. I wish I could say it’s forever, but up next is grad school.”
“You should celebrate,” I say, and Seth kicks my shoe.
“Isn’t that what this party is?” Rossi turns his attention to me, dark eyes locking on mine, and be still my sweet bi heart, he takes my breath away. Instalust hits me hard, and being under his sole focus makes me want to do something ridiculous to keep it. Tap dance? Balance on a tight rope? Where’s a unicycle when you need one?
“This is my friend Tyson,” Seth says quickly, almost like he can read my thoughts and is trying to prevent me from doing exactly what I was thinking.
So cute men turn me into a trained seal. Sue me.
I hold out my hand to shake his, not to be polite but because I’m desperate to feel one of those large palms in mine. And when he takes it, the warmth of his touch almost makes me swoon. I can’t remember ever wanting someone this badly.
“Remind me where the bathroom is,” Seth says to his boyfriend. Richie lifts his hand to point, but Seth grabs it and pulls him back toward the door inside. “Show me.”
They leave me and Rossi alone, and they’ve barely been gone five seconds before the awkwardness kicks in.
Rossi shifts to his other foot, still trying to keep his smile in place, even as he glances around, clearly looking for an excuse to leave. I can’t let that happen.
“So you play for the Mountain Lions?”
“Did. I was captain this year, but that’s all over now.” There’s a wistfulness to his voice, and okay, maybe that wasn’t the best conversation topic. But I know literally nothing else about him.
“To new things.” I hold up my glass to toast with him, but it’s empty.
He chuckles softly and taps his bottle against my glass. “Might want to deal with that.”