Page 13 of Bonus Game
Sloan shrugged and readjusted his toque. “Not really. It doesn’t matter to me.”
In his anger, Allen had forgotten to point out that Riley wasnothis damn boyfriend.
“Everything about the guy pisses me off,” said Sloan. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”
And Allen felt like he was in kindergarten again, watching two morons fight over the blue crayon.
“It’s called being an adult,” Allen pointed out, so that he could draw a line between them. “How old are you? Sixteen?”
“I’m twenty-one, asshole.”
Scratch that, Allen was starting to feel like a damn kindergarten teacher, not a student.
But Allen felt obligated to stick up for Riley, despite still being miffed about the jersey claim. So, he turned to Sloan, smiling brightly, and said, “You’re twenty-one and you weren’t drafted? It sucks that you ended up on a farm team.”
Those angry, blue eyes widened before narrowing into slits.
“Hey!”
The sound of wood cracking off glass startled Allen so badly that he shouted a curse word, earning a dirty look from themother sitting behind him with her kids. He swerved around and saw Jake standing next to the player’s bench, his hockey stick now bent at an awkward angle as he stared Sloan down.
“Stop glaring at him,” Jake shouted, ignoring the nervous looks of his teammates and coach around him. “Whatever he said, you deserved it.”
It was swiftly becoming obvious that Sloan wasn’t used to being confronted so aggressively, or by someone as tall as the massive man that was Jake, because the anger flickered away, replaced by…awkwardness?
With his point made, Jake pulled his broken stick back and propped it against the corner, already searching for a new one.
It took several heartbeats for Sloan to speak again, but when he did, there was a hint of disbelief in his tone.
“Are you dating that one, too?”
Allen sighed and dropped his head into his hands, accidentally breathing in a lungful ofRiley. “No, I’m not dating either of them. I just want to fuck that one.”
Sloan went quiet again, and Allen turned to look at him. There was no disgust or anger in his eyes, just unabashed fascination.
“Do you…” Sloan looked between Allen and Jake, brows pinching together. “Do you think it will fit?”
Allen wanted to hit him, but he also didn’t want to be arrested for assault tonight.
Sloan grinned and held out a hand. “I’m Kingston Sloan, and you?”
“Allen Monroe,” Allen muttered, unsure of whether Kingston heard him over the noise. “Are you always so abrasive?”
“No idea,” said Kingston. “I don’t know what that means.”
Allen pulled his phone out and googled the definition, holding it out for his new best friend to read.
“Yeah, that’s me,” said Kingston. “Got a problem with that?”
No, but Allen’s wine glass was sure to hear about it later.
“Just shut up and watch the damn game,” said Allen.
Fuck, he hated hockey.
5 /JAKE
A sharp smackto his bare ass had Jake jumping and spinning around, coming face to face with a grinning Riley.
