Page 48 of Cheap Shot

What hedidwant to know was exactly what kind of hockey Sebastian had played.

CHAPTER TWELVE

After Harper’s day with the Harriers, the team had a one-game road trip, then returned to Boston.

Luke didn’t think much more about Sebastian until they were back playing at home, and he caught some blistering chirps from him during his time in the penalty box. Yeah, now that he knew Sebastian had played hockey, that shit made a lot more sense.

Plus, it was a relief knowing nothing had changed between them. As pissed as Luke had been about seeing Sebastian there at the practice arena, it had gone okay.

The Harriers won 3–2 and after the game, Luke sent Sebastian a message on the way out to the parking ramp.Hookup tonight?

He could see the little green circle showing that he was online, but it wasn’t until he started the car that he got an answer.

I dunno. Should we?

You tell me.

Has anything changed?

Luke squinted at the screen.Why would it?

Nevermind. Yeah. Come over. I’m on the train now. I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you. Just come in.

The place is closed this time, right?Luke asked, even though it was close to midnight.

Fuck you.

Rather than answer, Luke tucked his phone in his jacket pocket, backed out of the spot, and pointed his car in the direction of Sebastian’s place.

When he reached the shop and saw the name on the window of the back door, he laughed aloud, finally understanding it.

Twig& Bloom. Hockey sticks and flowers.

Sebastian’s legs were still trembling by the time Crawford pulled his hand away. His head swam and he felt a little shaky from the orgasm.

It was probably just the fact that he hadn’t had time to eat dinner before the game and all he’d eaten there was an Italian sausage and a beer. The shakiness had nothing to do with thismomentthey’d had, when Crawford was working his hand over Sebastian’s cock. Their gazes had met, and Sebastian had thought about kissing him.

And fuck, so what if he did? He’d kissed plenty of hookups before. A kiss didn’t have to mean anything. It hadn’t the last twenty times so why the fuck would it matter now? With …him.

Only he couldn’t get the sight of Harper clinging to Crawford’s neck, or the way he’d made her laugh, out of his head.

Or the fact that it had looked like Crawford had wanted to kiss him too.

Crawford reached for a tissue and wiped off his hand. “So, what did you play?”

Sebastian squinted at him. “Huh?”

“I asked what you played.”

He glanced over toward the corner of his living room where he listened to records all the time. “Musically?”

“Fuckinghockey, dude.”

“Oh.” Sebastian shifted, doing up his trousers. “Uhh, I was a left winger.”

“Huh.”

“What doesthatmean?”