Charming as Puck(56)

“I came to say hi to my sister,” I reply innocently.

I smirk on the inside when she whips her phone out, knowing she’s texting Ares a warning that I did something, and he and Zeus better be on the lookout.

Too fucking easy.

“What else did you do?” she asks, rightfully so. “Swear to god, Nick, if you ordered more dick cookies for someone…”

“I took Kami out last night,” I tell her.

Because yeah, actually, I do want to talk to Felicity about me dating Kami. I don’t want it to be a secret.

I want my sister to know I’m trying.

She doesn’t have to know about my good luck charm, and she doesn’t have to know that my dick’s still aching from not getting any relief last night, but she can know I’m trying.

“How was it?” she asks cautiously, and I get the feeling she’s more Team Kami than Team Nick, which is probably a good thing.

Kami has a much better reputation than I do.

“The part where I was with her? Awesome. The part where we accidentally ended up doing an escape room with a bunch of warring farmers? That’s more…memorable.”

“Only you,” she says on a laugh, shaking her head. “Warring farmers?”

I fill her in on the Wankers, and next thing I know, the room’s full of curious onlookers, including Ares and Lavoie, and I better text Kami to give her a heads-up that basically the entire planet has heard about our date now.

Or maybe I’ll call her.

Considering the gift that’s supposed to be delivered to her office today, I probably definitely want to call.

“You’re taking her out again?” Felicity asks.

I nod. Not because we firmed up any plans, but because if we win, I’m heading over to her house as soon as I can get out of here tonight.

Fuck, if we lose, I’ll probably head over there too. She gives good scalp rubs and makes all the right sympathetic noises.

“Well, don’t fuck it up, Murphy,” she says in her cat puppet voice. “We like Kami!”

“Speak for yourself, pussy happy pants,” she replies in her grouchy grumpapotamus voice. “She’s too fucking nice all the time.”

“Aww, don’t be jealous. You never had a shot with her anyway, Harold,” I tell the puppet, even though he’s probably locked in a chest in her bedroom a few blocks away, but if Felicity can talk like the puppet, I can answer the puppet.

“You’re an ass, Murphy,” Harold the Grumpapotamus replies.

“But a loveable ass!” Felicity vents in her happy cat puppet voice.

Ares grunts.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go that far either,” Lavoie adds with a nod. “C’mon, Murphy. Skate time.”

“Practice good, boys,” Felicity calls.

We hop the elevator and get back to the dressing room right behind Zeus, who’s hanging up his phone with a goofball smile on his face as he walks in.

“Joey?” Ares asks.

“She’s coming in tonight for the game.” He’s grinning so big, he looks like a monument to happiness. “Staying until we leave for Nashville Friday.”

“She must be excited to see her sister,” Lavoie says. “Too bad she has to see you too.”

Frey chokes on air and goes back to pulling his pads on for practice. Probably because he’s married to Zeus’s wife’s sister, and knows too much about the formidable Joey. And also because that was a hell of a zinger.

“Don’t be jealous,” Zeus tells Lavoie with a grin. “Someday a woman’s gonna want to blow you again too. You too, Murphy. Hang in there, fuckers.”

That would be a lot funnier if my dick wasn’t still a little cramped.

But Kami’s worth earning.

I don’t think I’m ready for all this marriage-and-kid stuff, but I can’t stand the idea of Kami marrying someone else.

So I’ll give her everything else I can.

Even if I’m not always sure it’s exactly the right thing. I’m trying.

Zeus turns to his locker, pulls down his jersey, and jumps, but quickly covers it with a snort. “What the fuck? Somebody thinks this is supposed to scare me?”

“Your cubbie has the spots, Berger,” Frey says cheerfully.

“Fuck, those are eyeballs.” Jaeger shakes his head. “You got a thousand googly eyeballs watching you.”

Zeus bends over and peers at them closer while more of the guys filter in and check it out too. “They’re not even glued on straight. Whoever did this is an amateur.”

“Fucking creepy amateur,” Klein mutters.

“That’s seriously lame,” Lavoie says to me.

“Shut the fuck up. It is not.” Gluing googly eyes inside Berger’s locker?

Yeah. That’s lame.

But the dumber I look now, the more surprised he’ll be next week.

Lavoie’s shaking his head. “Losing your touch. Hope that date last night helped your game. Didn’t help your pranks.”

I keep my poker face while I grab my own pads and start suiting up. “Feeling good today. Think I’m getting sorted out.”

Thank fuck.

Because that game against Indianapolis is creeping closer and closer, and I. Cannot. Lose. To. Them.