Pucking Around: Chapter 101

Is there such a thing as too much sex? Can it actually impair function? Cause I think I might have the sex sickness. I feel hungover when I didn’t drink. All my muscles hurt…in the best possible way. Cay had to give me the 411 on bottoming aftercare, and let me tell you that was an awkward conversation to have at three am.

Oh yeah, apparently, I’m a bottom now. Add that to the ‘about me’ section of the Rays team roster website. Caleb says the proper term is ‘vers.’ I’m learning all kinds of new words. I’m a bisexual polyamorous vers. Whatever. Cay can throw all the fancy new words at me that he wants. I’m still Jake Compton. I don’t feel any different.

At the same time though, I woke up this morning knowing nothing will ever be the same.

I move robotically down the stairs in search of breakfast and the coffee maker. Stretching both arms over my head with a yawn, I almost miss the large blue bag perched next to the front door. That’s Seattle’s bag. Oh, what the ever-loving fuck—

“Rachel!” I bellow.

Stomping through the entry hall, I pause to find Rachel and Caleb sitting at the kitchen island. Mars is at the stove, cooking something that smells amazing. Rachel and Cay both turn, eyes wide as they take me in.

“Jake? You okay?” she says.

“Why the fuck is your bag by the door?” I say, pointing over my shoulder. “I thought we dealt with that last night.”

Caleb snorts, turning his attention back to his breakfast. “Told you he wouldn’t remember.”

“Remember what?” I say, my gaze darting between them. Why do the guys look totally unbothered by Rachel’s packed suitcase? Clearly, I’m missing something…

“I told you all last night after the shower,” she says gently. “I think you were kind of out of it.”

“We sexed him to death,” Cay teases, spearing a piece of fruit with his fork.

She ignores him, eyes on me. “I’m going to LA for a few days. I already bought the ticket when I did my little panic spiral last night, but now it has a return date,” she adds quickly, slipping off her stool to come take my hand.

“Why are you going to LA?”

She looks dressed and ready to leave—clothes on, hair washed, makeup done. I bet if I slept in any longer, I’d wake to find her gone. She tips up on her toes and gives me a quick kiss. She tastes like bacon and strawberries and fresh coffee.

“My parents are out in LA,” she explains, leading me over to the island.

There’s a small spread of breakfast—fresh juice, sliced berries and bananas, a big plate of bacon, and it smells like Mars is cooking something with eggs.

“Rakas, was this one mine?” he calls, leaning away from the stove to reach for a coffee mug.

“Hmm?” She glances over her shoulder. “No—”

“Mitä vittua,” he curses, spitting the coffee out into the sink and slamming the mug down. “Why is it mint?”

Rachel snorts. “Kulta, the blue mug was Caleb’s. Red was yours.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot, asshole,” Caleb mutters. “You owe me a new cup of coffee.”

“Why was it mint?” Mars says again.

“Caleb likes peppermint mochas because he’s fucking psychotic,” I say in a huff, snatching up a piece of bacon. “But don’t change the subject. Why are you going to LA?”

“Because my parents are there,” she repeats. “And because I owe them an explanation in person. And because if I have to sit here for a week stewing in the fallout of my suspension, I’m gonna climb the freaking walls,” she adds. “Jake, I can’t just be trapped here while you three go into work. I’ll be a mess. And my parents deserve to hear from me in person what’s going on.”

I glance from Cay to Mars. They seem fine with this. I shouldn’t be freaked, right? “And you have a return ticket?”

She nods. “I come home Sunday.”

“Hey—we play in LA this week, don’t we? Isn’t our Saturday game against the LA Kings?”

“Yeah,” Caleb replies, taking a bite of his crunchy buttered toast.

“Cool,” I say, brightening up as I snag a handful of blueberries. “So, we’ll get to see you out there. And we can formally meet the parents. This’ll be great!”

Rachel and Caleb both go still.

“What? Marrying a girl means we meet her parents, right?” I say, popping a couple berries in my mouth. “Isn’t that how this works?”

“I…hadn’t thought of that,” she murmurs.

Slowly, we all turn as one to gape at her.

“What do you mean you hadn’t thought of it?” Caleb replies.

“I mean I quite literally never thought of the first ‘hey mom, meet my boyfriends’ conversation,” she squawks, hopping off her stool again.

“How is that possible?” I say.

“Well—I don’t know! I guess, in my mind I’ve played out all these visions of us together—Christmas and vacations and games—but in all those scenarios, they already knew you,” she explains. “I never once considered needing to have the awkward intro moment.”

Caleb huffs a laugh. “What’s the big deal? Have you never introduced your parents to a boyfriend before?”

The deafening silence in the room is broken only by the sizzle of eggs as all three of us stare at her.

“You gotta be shitting me, Seattle,” I mutter. “You’ve never introduced your parents to a boyfriend before?”

“Of course, not,” she cries. “My early twenties were a who’s who of human trash. There was never a moment I wanted to waste my parents’ time with an introduction of some guy that was only going to be around for the length of a—”

“Doooon’t you dare finish that sentence,” I say. “Look, I know you had guys before us, but here’s the new house rule: frisbee golf rules apply to all past relationships.”

They all exchange a confused glance. “Frisbee golf rules?” she asks.

“Yeah, you know like, do I know that frisbee golf is a thing? Yeah, of course, I do. But do I want to learn a single other detail about it no matter how big or small? Hell to the fucking no. Your past relationships are frisbee golf to me, Seattle. And I will happily extend you the same courtesy.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “That is the stupidest—”

“Smartest idea you’ve ever had,” Caleb says over her. “I’m with Jake on this. Frisbee golf rules. Mars, you agree?”

“I’m not even pretending to listen,” he mutters, turning with the skillet in hand. “Fetch your plate, Jake.”

I snatch a plate from the island and hold it out as he slips some kind of egg scramble onto it. “Hey, thanks,” I say with a grin. “Who knew this whole sex team thing could come with so many perks? I can’t remember the last time someone made me breakfast.”

“I make you breakfast all the time,” Caleb mutters.

“Yeah, calling up the stairs to ask if I want the milk left out for cereal is not making me breakfast,” I reply, digging in the drawer for a fork.

“Okay,” says Rachel, getting to her feet. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and grab my laptop. Kulta, you’ll be ready in five?”

“Joo,” he replies, his back turned again at the stove.

“You’re leaving now?” I say, fork paused halfway to my lips.

“Mhmm. Ilmari is taking me to the airport on his way into the gym.” She leans over me to kiss my forehead. Turning she gives Cay a kiss too. Then she flits around the kitchen island, her arm slinking around Mars’ waist as they mutter something in Finnish, and she pecks him on the cheek. Poseidon follows her everywhere at this point, racing after her as she jogs for the stairs.

“So, you’re really fine with her going?” Cay mutters the moment she’s out of earshot.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I say with a shrug. “It makes sense that she wants to tell her family about us in person. And how cool will it be to get to meet Hal Price?”

“Easy,” he mutters. “You know how weird she gets about him. When you meet him, you gotta be cool, okay? Don’t embarrass her. More importantly, don’t embarrass me.”

“Hey, I’m not the one you need to worry about,” I say defensively. “Sure, I’ve seen The Ferrymen in concert once or twice. But ask our giant Finnish friend here how many times he’s seen them live.” I turn to face him, smirking.

Mars just shrugs.

“Yeah, I’m not worried about Mars losing his cool,” Caleb replies.

“I’m not gonna lose my cool!”

“Both of you shut up,” Mars mutters, glancing towards the stairs. “We have more important matters to discuss. I’m not going to the gym. I’ll take her to the airport, then I’m coming straight back here. We have much to plan.”

“I agree,” Caleb replies. “I’ve been up since six. I have a list going already.”

“Me as well,” says Mars with a nod.

I glance between them. “Is this about Operation Coming Out Day? Because I’ve got a bunch of ideas too.”

“No, I’m talking about our plan for getting Rachel her job back,” Caleb replies.

“Same,” says Mars.

I glance between them. “Okay…yeah, that’s super important. But you know what’s even more important? Going public with our relationship.”

“I don’t know if she’ll still want to do that if this suspension is final,” Caleb says with a grimace. “I mean, her whole thing is that the press only reports on her scandals and her failures. We might have to give this time to all blow over.”

Mars is nodding his head and I swear to fuck, my heart drops from my chest.

“No. No fucking way,” I snap. “We are not going backwards. Look at me right now and tell me that we’re not going backwards.”

Both guys look at me but say nothing.

“Alright, listen,” I say, lowering my voice. “We have a chance here. A real chance. This trip to LA could be the perfect timing. Let’s get her safely out of the way, and then it’s grand gesture time.”

Mars raises a brow at me. “Grand gesture time?”

“Yeah, I think we can deal with both pieces of this at once,” I explain. “We can get Rachel her job back and we can come out to the public as the Fearsome Foursome, official name TBD.”

Caleb just huffs. “You think in five days we can get Rachel her job back and coordinate an entire public relations campaign? Not to mention we have jobs. You both have to play hockey, remember?”

“Of course, I do,” I reply. “Which is why we’re gonna need some help. We’re gonna call in every favor we collectively have. That’s the point of a grand gesture, right? It takes a group effort. The press will be expecting a spectacle with this, so let’s give it to them. Go big or go fucking home. Are you both with me?”

Caleb sighs. “Tell me your idea first before I say yes.”

I grin at him. “Oh, you’re gonna fucking love it.”