Mason lets out another strangled groan.
“What? I'm just saying, good for him. About time someone on this team got properly laid.” He pauses, considering it. “Well, besides Evans, obviously. That man gets more action than the concession stand.”
“GENTLEMEN!” Coach's voice booms across the field. “Unless you're discussing plays, shut your mouths and start running!”
We scatter across the field, but I can still hear Sebi muttering under his breath about “sexual awakenings” and “the miracle of Mason's dick finally working.”
Toweling my hair, I open the locker and pull my phone out.
New Message: Honey
I grin, hoping it’s her agreeing to come to my house tonight.
Honey:I wish I could, but I’m drowning in internship work. My father sent over three new case files to review before tomorrow. Rain check?
My smile falters slightly, but I get it. She needs to put everything into this internship to see if it’s something she wants to do. Just sucks because I wanted to pick up where we left off earlier.
Zach:Of course, Honeycomb. Completely understand. What about tomorrow night?
Her response comes quickly.
Honey:Definitely. Chris invited us to his hockey game then. Thought it would be fun to go together.
I stare at the message, my grip tightening on the phone. Chris’s game?
“You good, man?” Reese asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.
“Fine,” I mutter, typing back.
Zach:Sure, sounds great.
But it doesn’t sound great. Watching Honey’s face light up as she watches her “friend” play hockey? Yeah. It sounds like fucking torture.
Honey:Awesome! I’m really excited. I’ve never been to a hockey game before.
When was the last time she said she was “really excited” about watching me play?
“Seriously, what’s wrong?” Reese presses, sitting on the bench beside me.
I show him the messages. “Tell me I’m being paranoid.”
Reese reads them and his expression shifts. “Shit, man. I wish I could.”
“Right?” I run a hand through my damp hair, feeling like absolute shit.
Sebi plops down next to us, grinning. “What are we analyzing? Please let it be Mason’s sex life again, because based on the volume alone, I still have questions. Like, did she stub her toe mid-hookup or does our boy have a hidden superpower?”
Mason’s groan echoes from across the locker room. “I can hear you, asshole!”
“I’m counting on it!” Sebi calls back cheerfully.
“Honey's going to Chris's hockey game,” I say flatly.
“Ooh.” Sebi's grin fades. “The hot hockey guy who's obviously got it bad for your girl?”
“The very one.”
“And she's excited about it?”