SWNOVELS Pucking Sweet: Chapter 17
Novy holds my gaze, and I can tell he’s trying to decide what to say, a joke or the truth. I know the instant he lands on joke. He flashes me a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Nah, bud. The day Poppy and I become friends will be the day the Sabres finally win the Stanley Cup.” He clinks our beer glasses together, taking a sip.
Seriously, what’s his problem? Always deflection. Always guarding his true thoughts and feelings. He’s a good enough guy, and a ton of fun to be around, but these iron walls and constant dodges make it hard for me to see him as anything other than a teammate.
“Come on. Let’s go.” He leads me away like I don’t know exactly what he’s doing. If he’s not staying down here with Poppy, apparently neither am I.
When did this happen? I knew he liked to tease her, and he flirts with her all the time, but Novy flirts with everyone. He flirts with Sanford to get him to change his skate blades first. He flirts with the PTs to get more massages. Hell, he even flirts with the coffee cart guy for extra shots of espresso. The man could flirt paint off the wall.
That’s all this is, harmless flirting…or so I thought. But when I turned around just now, and he saw me laughing with Poppy, there was a glint of fire in his eyes. He didn’t like it.
Well, the feeling is mutual, asshole.
I shrug away from his touch and lead the way over toward the VIP stairs. We pass Compton dancing with Doc, and I can’t help but flash Nov a smirk over my shoulder. He leans in against my back, shouting to be heard over the music. “I bet you a thousand dollars we’ll find them together in a bathroom stall within the hour.”
“No bet,” I reply, showing the bouncer my wristband.
Novy shows his too, and we’re waved through.
The stairs are quieter. Darker too, lined only with two strands of lights that glow at our ankles, illuminating each step.
“Come on,” Novy says. “Why won’t you bet me? I’m bored.”
“Then go find someone to dance with. Better yet, go find someone to lure into a bathroom stall for yourself. You’re so damn tense these days, it’s giving me anxiety.”
“Wait—are you volunteering, Coley?”
I roll my eyes, even if he can’t see it. “In your dreams, Nov. I don’t fuck desperate men.”
“I said I’m bored, not desperate.”
“Well, I don’t fuck bored men either.”
“Got it. So, the next time I find myself perfectly balanced on the scale between boredom and desperation, I’ll tap your number, which I already have saved for emergencies—sexual and otherwise—and you and I can have the most moderately exciting sex of your life. Sound good?”
I stop at the top of the stairs. “You have me saved on your phone? What are we, then? Boyfriends?”
“No, but you’re my emergency contact.”
I raise a brow at him. “I’m your what?”
“My emergency contact. You know how Vicki made us fill out all those forms when we signed our contracts?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I needed to provide an emergency contact so…” He shows me his phone screen, tapping the “Emergency SOS” tab. Right there, saved as his primary emergency contact, I see my name and number. “Why do you look so weird?” He searches my face, lowering his phone. “Did I need to ask you first or something?”
“No.” I take a sip of my beer. “I guess I just assumed you’d pick a family member. You know, someone who might actually like you and want to keep all your organs attached.”
He laughs.
“’Cause if you leave the decision up to me, I’m donating everything,” I warn him.
It’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Hey, if we’re to the point where they’re even asking about organ donation, just unplug me, okay?”
“Nov—”
“I’m serious. I’m in great shape, no health conditions. Give it all away, even Little Lukas.” He points down to his dick.
I turn away, heading over to the VIP area.
He follows right behind, still talking. “They’re doing some amazing stuff with penis transplants these days. He’s got some miles on him, sure, but he deserves to help make other people happy for as long as he can.”
“Fucking Christ,” I mutter. “This is why you need to pick someone else,” I say over my shoulder. “I don’t want to make medical decisions about Lukas or Little Lukas.”
“I don’t have anyone else.”
I stop, waiting for the joke. But no, the silence stretching between us could fill an ocean, even in this noisy club. Slowly, I turn. “Nov—”
“But it’s fine.” He shrugs past me. “I’ll change it if it’s that big a deal—”
“No.” I grab him by the shoulder. He’s tense under my hand, but he doesn’t pull away. “Keep me on the forms. I’ll be your emergency contact.” I let him go, and he doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t say another word. He just walks off, like we didn’t just share our first real moment of true friendship in ten years.
“What were you assholes whispering about over there?” J-Lo says as we walk up to the VIP table.
Giving Novy’s shoulder one more squeeze, I step around him and claim the empty spot by Sully. “Novy wants to donate his dick to science.”
This gets the guys going, leading to a hilarious and morbid conversation about the ins and outs of penis transplants. All the while, I keep glancing across the table at Novy. I watch the casual, aloof way he interacts with the other guys. All his careful little walls are securely back in place.