Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys 2)

Tripp takes the place beside me, and I automatically lean over and press my forehead to his shoulder. Like always, the loss suddenly doesn’t seem so bad. Tripp gives me a taste of the bigger picture, and even though I’m disappointed, I can deal with it when he’s right next to me. I’m cautious not to be over the top in front of the others, so I don’t pull him to me the way I want to, but this is something we’ve done a million times before.

I assume it won’t be a problem.

I’m wrong.

Fensby’s loud scoff fills the room. “No one wants to see that.”

I pull away, looking up to find him glaring at me. “See what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?” I growl. Fensby’s been toeing the line with me, and right now, he’s picking the wrong time to say shit. “Maybe you should spell it out for me.”

“All I’m saying is we’re here to play a game. We don’t need to be faced with you two fucking around every day.”

I shove to my feet. “Sorry. I must have missed the part where I had my cock out.”

He steps up to me. “Problem, Dexter?”

“Yeah, it’s called your face,” Tripp says. He tries to tug me back down beside him, but I don’t go. There’s a ringing in my ears that’s driving me nuts, and I’d like nothing better than to take my disappointment and frustration out on Fensby.

“I find it funny that you never had an issue with Tripp and me before we got together, and now suddenly, you don’t want to see us being close.”

“What are you implying?”

“Seems pretty homophobic to me.”

He sneers. “Or maybe I think you’re both shitty people for dragging a sweet person like Jessica into your life and then betraying her.”

“I never cheated.”

“You think I’m going to believe that?”

My fist is itching to hit him, but that’s a fast way off the team. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly what he’s hoping for.

So instead, I force a deep breath and go low. “I think I’ve finally figured out your issue.”

His cocky expression slips for a fraction of a second.

“She said my name, didn’t she? When you were fucking her?” I shrug. “And now you think that somehow defending her against something that didn’t happen is the way to gain bonus points.” I cuff him on the shoulder a bit harder than I normally would. “Good luck with that.”

“Please. You really think she hasn’t filled me in on your mediocre sex life?” He laughs in my face. “She never thought refusing to peg you would send you after the real thing.”

What? I never …

I shove him, and he shoves me back, but before I can make a dumb choice, Tripp jumps up and pulls me back.

“No need to worry about us, Fensby. We appreciate your concern, but we’ve got things covered.”

But that’s the thing. We talk a big talk, and our sex life is amazing, but the few times I’ve brought up fucking, somehow we’ve ended up in handjobs or blowjobs and never got to that.

“You sure?” Fensby asks with mock concern. “Because Dex seems tense this year. He’s scored, what, once during preseason?”

“Twice, asshole.”

“Ah, my mistake. I stopped counting when you weren’t a challenge anymore. Don’t get too comfortable on the first line, buddy.”

As he walks away, I turn to Tripp and grit through my teeth, “I hate him.”

“Yep, me too.”

“Hey, one more thing,” Fensby calls from the door to the weights room. “How do you guys handle being married and called the Mitchell brothers? Doesn’t that gross you out? Or do you use it as some sick kind of role play?”

“You’re a dick,” Tripp says. “Worry about your own mediocre sex life.”

“I’m not the one who needs to worry.” He eyes Tripp in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Fifty bucks says Dex goes back to pussy before the season is over.”

Adler’s leaving the weight room as Fensby says that and nudges him. “Cut it out, man, that’s not cool.”

“Yeah, say that shit again!” I yell.

He’s finally gone too far. Hit me where it hurts and I’ll be upset; go after Tripp and I’ll fucking end you.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Coach’s voice reaches the room before he does, and the four of us freeze. He looks from me and Tripp to Adler and Fensby, jaw getting tense.

“Nothing, Coach,” I quickly say.

“Don’t lie to me.” His raised voice attracts others from the team. “Is there an issue here?”

Three of us answer with “no,” but Fensby says, “You’ve got to tell them to stop with the PDA.”

“Oh. So there is a problem?” Coach asks.

“We weren’t even PDA … ing.” I screw up my face. Word talk good. “Tripp was consoling me after that mess of a game, just like he would any other teammate.”