Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys #2)(30)

I scroll through a few more until I reach a message that makes me pause.

Hey Dex Mitchale, good chance you won’t even read this but I’ve seen some nasty comments from people who think you were only ‘playing’ straight which is bullshit. My boyfriend and I knew each other on and off the ice for years and never felt that spark for each other. I’ve never thought about any guy that way. If you’d asked me a few years ago if I’d ever have sex with a dude, the answer would have been ‘hell no.’ Then one day, we were dared to kiss, and it changed everything. His gender wasn’t important to me, just him. I’m not sure I’ll ever be attracted to another man, and I haven’t worked out yet if I even consider myself queer because I don’t care about labels, but he’s the guy I’m going to spend my life with. Once you know, you just know. Even aside from the sex (and, dude, I never realized it could be so hot) he’s my person and it sounds like you’ve found yours. So congrats, and I’m beyond happy to see another player representing us queer guys in the league, no matter what the haters say. All the best.





I read it twice, then read it again, mouth hanging open as I try to digest so much information at once.

This guy doesn’t think he’s queer even though he plans to spend his life with a man? And people call me dumb. Though, I’m sure Tripp has said before no one can tell someone else how to identify.

But if he’s straight, how? I can’t wrap my head around it.

He kissed this guy, and he liked it. So he tried more.

I liked kissing Tripp. Does that mean I’d be like this guy and enjoy more? Or did I only enjoy it because it was Tripp?

Wait. Maybe that’s this guy’s point.

My brain hurts.

All I know is these two were friends who kissed and became more. That’s exactly like us. In a roundabout way.

For the first time since getting these messages, I don’t feel like a complete fraud. Tripp is my person. I want him there always. There’s nothing better than when he’s spooning me, and that kiss was … confusing. But I did like it.

Would I still like it if we did it again?

I’ve never even considered sex with a man. I wouldn’t know what to do with another dick, but when I jerk off, it feels damn good, so if it feels good for my dick, wouldn’t it feel good for someone else’s?

I glance over at Tripp and try to see him the way I would if I was gay. He’s got really broad shoulders, and his arms are huge in a way mine could never be.

Is that attractive?

I’m not sure.

I can picture myself holding on to them while we kiss, but does that actually mean anything? Kissing isn’t sex. And when I try to picture kissing his chest, his abs, his— I clear my throat and shift.

I’ve seen his dick countless times, but I’ve never paid it any attention.

And it’s not like I can ask him to flop it out so I can check if it does anything for me.

Okay, how is it possible that I’m more confused than ever?

“Great,” Tripp mutters, pulling my attention back to his mouth. He has freckles above his top lip that my gaze gets stuck on.

“What is it?”

“Get dressed, husband.” He stands and stretches, his shorts slipping down so I get the briefest glimpse of his pubes.

Could I touch them? Maybe. I shake that thought off. “For what?”

“Photoshoot and interview. Apparently, someone wants to run our story.”

“Okay, we’re so not ready for that. We don’t have it all worked out.”

“We don’t have a choice.” He flips his phone around to face me. “Graham’s orders. We have to meet him and our agents at the practice rink before our interview this afternoon. I’m assuming he’ll give us all the notes we need.”

“Our agents?” Oh no. “I’ve been avoiding his calls.”

“Me too. Damon is going to kill me.”





Twelve





TRIPP





Once we get to the head office, I figure I’ll have Dex and his agent, plus Graham as witnesses, so Damon King can’t yell at me.

I underestimated my agent.

“A heads-up would’ve been nice” is the first thing he says when he sees me. Across the reception area. Where a whole lot of office staff can hear.

I close the distance between us. “Hi, Damon. I’m so happy to see you too.”

“You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

“Have I? Or have I just been too busy with my new husband to even hear the phone?”

Damon’s green eyes narrow, and I blink at him innocently.

He turns to Graham and Dex’s agent, Russel. “Is there somewhere I can have a moment with these two alone?”

“And let you steal my client?” Russel asks. “No way. You may have cornered the market on queer athletes, but Dex is mine.”

Damon King doesn’t represent every single queer athlete out there, but he has the majority. It helps that he’s gay and an ex-athlete himself. When he was starting out in the industry, he was the only agent who would give outed-against-his-will NFL player Matt Jackson a chance. From that moment on, he became the go-to agent for queer athletes. He represents the entire queer collective except for Anton Hayes.