Page 20 of Body Check

“Don’t need you to hold my dick.”

“Wasn’t offering to,” Robby snaps back.

Together, the three of them lumber toward the men’s room at the back of the hallway. When they come out a good five minutes later, I offer the bottle of water I grabbed from the bar.

“Drink this,” I instruct, and McKittrick blinks at me blearily. With a sigh, I wrench open the top and hand it back to him.

With a shaky hand, he takes the bottle and slurps at it, spilling some down his shirt.

“Shit,” Joaquin breathes. “He’s a mess.”

“Coach is already back at the hotel,” Robby says. “How’re we going to get him past the front door?”

“The service entrance.” It’s the only way Coach—or by the reporters who hang out in the hotel bar—won’t see him.

“So, you’re volunteering?” he asks.

Making a face, I sigh. “If I have to.”

“I’ll settle the tab,” Joaquin offers.

“Thanks, man.” Robby offers him a fist-bump.

He disappears, and I slide myself onto McKittrick’s right side again. Joaquin returns a few moments later with my purse, and all three of our jackets. Given the heat radiating off the hockey player, I doubt I’ll need it.

Luckily, the hotel is only two blocks away—no need for a ride-share.

“Do you want to tell me what this is about?” Robby asks as we shuffle along the street.

“’S nothing,” McKittrick slurs. “I’m fine.”

“You sure look fine,” I snark at him.

He scowls. “You look fine.” But he sings the word, drawing it out. If his eyes weren’t half-closed, I’d say he was leering, but he looks constipated more than anything.

Robby snickers. “He’ll regret this.”

“Hopefully, he won’t remember it.”

Our progress is slow but steady. The hotel security guard laughs as we make our way to the service entrance, but they let us through. I punch the elevator for the seventh floor.

“Where’s his key?” I ask. McKittrick is even more out of it, staring off into space without a care in the world.

Robby shrugs. “Probably his wallet.”

“Okay, so get it.”

His eyebrows go up. “You think he wants a gay guy putting a hand into his pocket?”

“He’s not that insecure.” But I shift and shove my hand into the front pocket of his pants, pulling out his wallet. There’s some cash, a half dozen cards, and a condom tucked inside, but no room key.

I blow out a breath. “Fine. Take him to my room.”

“You sure about that?” Doubt is written clear across his face. “If it gets out…”

“Well, it’s your room or mine. Either way, our reputation is shit.” I’ve never looked twice at a player. Hell, I’ve never even looked once. And somehow, this asshole has me risking my job for—what? A peep show?

“We’ll get him settled in your room, and then you can bunk with me,” Robby offers. “I have two fulls in my room.”