Role Model (Rachel Reid, 2021)
- O que eu mais gostei, depois de Heated Rivalry.
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“Maybe try without smiling.” Troy Barrett nodded at the photographer—a young woman with short silver hair and a French-Canadian accent—and packed away his awkward attempt at a smile. He replaced it with his usual cold, blank stare. “Better,” she said.
"And, hey. Good for you, calling out Dallas Kent." The name made Troy flinch. Maybe it always would. "It's complicated," he mumbled. It was a word he'd been using a lot lately. "Sounded pretty clear to me." Her smile was warm and a little teasing. Troy didn't return it, but she was right. There'd been nothing unclear about what Troy had yelled in Kent's face during practice. Everyone on the ice had heard it, and everyone who watched the leaked video afterward had heard it. You're a piece of shit rapist, Dallas.
Hummmm interessante
Harris was in his office, staring at a headshot Gen had just taken of the newest Ottawa player. He had always thought Troy was one of the hottest players in the NHL, and meeting him in person today had only reinforced that belief. Troy's intense blue eyes, glossy dark hair, and pouting lips made him look more like a pop star than a hockey player. His narrow face had a razor-sharp jaw, shaded with dark stubble, and his cheekbones were frankly astonishing.
Não tem uma história que não comecem apaixonados
"Whatcha listening to?" For a long second, honest to god, Harris thought Troy was going to say you. His eyes had narrowed and then he blinked, as if trying to force the snark back down inside him. "Uh, just, y'know. EDM." "Cool." In Harris's experience, if you asked any NHL player what music he was listening to, the answer was always either EDM, country, hip-hop, or Mumford & Sons.
Música
Harris felt this was a good point to transition into personal preference questions. "Are you a dog person or a cat person?" "Uh... dog, I think. I've never had a pet." "Wow. Never?" "Nope." "Jeez, that's sad. I love dogs. I don't have one now, but I want a house in the country someday and, like, five dogs. Big ones." "That's a lot." "It's exactly the right amount of dogs."
Nossa esse Harris é chato
"Okay?" Rozanov asked. "Fucking great." "Yes, I can tell." Troy didn't reply. He'd had his head down, but now he glanced over at his new captain. Ilya had stripped to his boxer briefs, and had his long legs stretched out in front of him. Troy's gaze caught on the famous tattoo of a snarling grizzly bear on Ilya's left pec. It was absolutely ridiculous up close. He noticed a second tattoo, less famous and probably more recent, on Ilya's arm, near his shoulder. It was a bird of some sort. A loon, maybe. Kind of a weird choice.
Ah não
There were years of Troy's life when the locker room was the most stressful place in the world. When the conversation that had just happened, with a man as attractive as Ilya displaying himself as brazenly as he'd just done, would have been terrifying, because what if Troy gave something away? An involuntary glance or, god help him, an involuntary boner. He'd been miserable and alone, until one day, before he started his second season in the WHL at eighteen, he'd decided to start hiding behind a wall of aggressive macho bullshit. It hadn't been difficult; his dad had given him years of macho bullshit to emulate. So had most of his teammates and coaches.
Interessante
He thought about Ryan Price, a former teammate who had been on his mind a lot over the past year. Ryan had played with Troy in Toronto the season before last. He'd been traded a zillion times; Toronto had been, like, his ninth NHL team or something. Troy had been a complete dick to him because he'd been following Kent's lead. And because Troy was, admittedly, a complete dick. Now Troy knew how fucking uncomfortable it was to be traded, and he was ashamed at how he'd treated Ryan when he'd been struggling to fit in. Instead of doing anything to help, Troy had laughed at how nervous Ryan had been on airplanes, and had made homophobic jokes right in front of him. Not after he'd learned Ryan was gay, but that didn't matter. Ryan had been a perfectly nice guy. Shy, maybe. Awkward, definitely. But he'd been fierce as hell when he'd stomped on Dallas and Troy's immature jokes by clearly stating that he was gay, and that he wasn't going to stand for their homophobia anymore. That was a moment Troy would never forget.
Aaah ele tava la
Harris: I'm actually working on a video of your top five career goals right now. Troy: You have to make that yourself? Harris: Yeah. It's, like, my job. Now Troy felt stupid. He tried to think of something to say, but Harris sent another message. Harris: I need to get this done, then I have a conference call with marketing and a new sponsor who wants to do some sponsored content. And I've got some posts I have to schedule. Harris: Sorry. You didn't actually ask for further info. I'm chatty when texting too. He added a happy face emoji to the end. Harris was a really fast typer. Which made sense, Troy supposed, given his job. Troy: Ok. Just text me when you're leaving I guess.
Chato
"No country music?" Harris chuckled. "Sometimes. I like all sorts of music." The conversation distracted Troy from his misery, so he kept asking questions. "Who's this?" "Fabian Salah. You don't know him?" There was a note of surprise in Harris's question, as if he expected Troy to know who the random singer was. "Nope. It's nice, though. Pretty." "He's Ryan Price's boyfriend." "What?" "Yeah. They've been dating since Ryan was playing with the Guardians." Jesus. Troy didn't know a fucking thing about anyone, apparently. "I had no idea." "Next time Fabian plays a show here, you should go. He's amazing live. Ryan usually travels with him, which is completely adorable. They must be super in love. "
As refs
Troy knocked on Harris's office door, and didn't have to wait even a second before Harris called out for him to come in. "It's just me." Troy held up the paper coffee cup he was carrying. "It's not Starbucks, but it's from the espresso maker in the player's lounge. It's a latte." Harris looked stunned, but he smiled and waved Troy over. Chiron was asleep on the floor next to Harris's feet. "You made me a latte?" "I hope so. I've never used that thing before." He placed the cup on Harris's desk, then realized he had no idea what his next move was. He didn't know what had compelled him to come here, except the best he'd felt in ages had been in Harris's office, watching him eat cake pops.
Misericordia que tosco
"I'm sorry I was a dick to you in the locker room. When you offered to show me around. I—" He didn't know how to finish the sentence, so he stopped talking. Harris waited for a moment, then said, "We should probably stop this cycle." "Cycle?" "You feeling bad about something you said to me, then showing up at my office to apologize. I don't mind the coffee deliveries, though." He pointed to a chair against the wall. "Bring that over. Sit. Unless you have somewhere to be."
Fala serio
"Can you keep a secret?" Troy hadn't even realized he was asking the question before the words were out, hanging between them with their clouds of breath on a Manhattan sidewalk. Ilya's lips curved into a wry smile. "Yes. Very well." Troy's heart pounded against his ribs. He might throw up. Or he might collapse. But he was going to say these words, dammit. "I'm gay." For a moment, Ilya didn't react. He just surveyed Troy calmly. Then he said, "You have not told anyone." "Not really, no." Ilya tilted his head in the direction they needed to go and resumed walking. Troy fell into step beside him. "That must have been very hard. In Toronto," Ilya said. "It wasn't easy." "I'm sorry."
Nenhuma lágrima?
"We're, um, doing a little holiday photo shoot. It's like a virtual Christmas card that we'll post to our accounts." "Ah. Looking good, Ilya." "I know." Troy glanced uneasily between Harris, Gen, and Ilya, then said, "I, uh, brought you an eggnog latte, Harris. But I can just leave it." "No!" Harris said, too quickly. "You can stay. And thanks. For the latte."
Como que um cara tão recluso sobre a sexualidade não tem vergonha de entregar café pro amado na frente das pessoas?
Troy frequently found himself wondering what it would take to get a moan out of him. Or a gasp of pleasure. What would fill those green eyes with heat? He realized he was lazily brushing his fingertips over his stomach as he lay on the leather couch that had come with the apartment. His dick twitched with interest, and Troy's hand slid lower, seemingly on its own. He gave his thickening cock a squeeze through his loose-fitting gym shorts, and grunted softly into the empty room. Troy could make this Christmas Eve even sadder than it already was by jerking off to fantasies of the total sweetheart who was way too good for him, or he could find something distracting to quickly cool his blood.
Primeiro sinal de sexo chegando
It occurred to Troy, later when he was in bed for lack of anything else to do, that Harris probably had a personal Instagram account. It didn't take long at all to find it. His profile picture was the apple pin Troy had given him. Troy could have sworn he felt his heart inflating like a balloon when he saw it.
Ah não pode ce
Harris swallowed hard. He needed to stay positive, for himself, and for Troy, who was still staring at him from a few inches away, eyes wild with fear. "When we land," Harris said, just loud enough for Troy to hear, "I'm getting ice cream." There were tears in Troy's eyes, but he managed a small smile and said, "What kind?" The plane shuddered and jerked, and Troy squeezed his eyes closed, his lips pulled tight in a grimace. "Cookie dough. Definitely," Harris said quickly. Troy opened his eyes. They were still wet. "That sounds gross." Harris laughed, but it sounded like a sob, and suddenly Troy's face was very blurry. The plane made a whirring noise, and oh thank god, was that the landing gear? Maybe they'd survive this. Maybe this would be an adventure they'd talk about for years after. Harris was going to have so much work to do after this. The Ottawa Centaurs would be getting a lot of media attention.
Que acontecimento!
There was a knock on his door just as the episode was ending. Harris knew who he hoped it was, but was still surprised to see Troy when he opened the door. "Hey." Troy had changed into black sweatpants and a soft-looking gray T-shirt. His hair was damp, and his skin was still rosy from what must have been a very hot shower. He looked dangerously sexy, especially when Harris was already so keyed up. "I can't sleep," Troy said. "Me neither." Harris stepped back, and Troy walked past him into the room. "I brought you something." Troy turned and thrust a plastic CVS bag at Harris with so much nervous anticipation that Harris wondered if it might be full of condoms. He took the bag from Troy, and when he looked in it, nearly burst into tears. It probably had more to do with his emotional state after the whole plane ordeal, but goddamn. Troy Barrett was going to kill him. "Cookie dough ice cream," Harris said, pulling the small container out of the bag. "You went out and got this for me?" "Yeah. I got a spoon from the bartender. It's in the bag there." He really had. He'd left the hotel at... whatever the fuck time it was... and tracked down some cookie dough ice cream. "So it is." Harris managed to keep his voice steady, just barely. "Only one?" Troy shrugged. "It's not for me." Harris didn't know what to say. His poor heart had already been through so much today, and now Troy was standing in his hotel room, inches away, smelling so good and watching Harris with wide, uncertain eyes. It was too much. Harris gestured to the bed. "Have a seat."
Devia ter agarrado ele nesse momento
"I used to make fun of Ryan Price on planes," Troy said quietly. Unexpectedly. "Because he was scared of flying." Harris didn't say anything. He hated hearing things like that, but he waited for Troy to continue. "He was such a wreck, every time he flew. We thought it was hilarious." Harris knew that by we, Troy meant himself and Dallas Kent. "And now," Troy said, "all I can think about is how we have to get on another plane in a couple of days. I don't know if I can do it." "Yeah," Harris said. "I've been thinking about that too." "I owe Ryan a thousand apologies. Jesus fucking Christ. I was such an asshole." Troy turned on his side to face Harris. "He's the bravest person I've ever met. Seriously. Dallas liked to laugh at what a baby he was about flying, but how much fucking courage do you need to have to face your fears, like, at least once a week? Usually several times a week. For years. I can't even fucking imagine." "It's impressive," Harris agreed. "And he's gay, too." Okay. That seemed like a non sequitur. "I don't think being gay makes flying scarier." "No, I mean, like, that's fucking brave too. Two things Dallas thinks are weak, being afraid and being gay, but they aren't. I wish I'd done everything differently. I should have supported Ryan and told Dallas to go fuck himself. "
Ryan price
Troy woke up first. For a few wonderful moments, while his brain was still foggy with sleep, he was happy. He had Harris's warm, solid bulk under his arm, and when he inhaled, he smelled apples. Then reality set in. He shouldn't be in Harris's bed, and he certainly shouldn't have rubbed off on Harris last night. Shouldn't have kissed him, shouldn't have thrust into their joined hands. Shouldn't have soaked Harris's shirt with his release. Troy was a monster. Harris was so good and sweet, and Troy kept feeding from him like a vampire.
Ja vai começar
"You're leaving?" "Yeah. I, uh, I should get back to my own room. Y'know." The last thing Troy wanted was for anyone on the team to know that he'd spent the night with Harris. For Harris's sake, more than his own. "Right." Harris sounded dejected. "So, okay. See you later, I guess." Harris sat up. "Are you sure we shouldn't talk first?" God, he looked so hurt. But the kindest thing Troy could do for him was leave. "Nah. I'm gonna—" He pointed to the door, then after one last glance at Harris's miserable face, left.
Afff
Harris certainly wasn't going to let this stand. He would give Troy some room, let him enjoy his day off in Florida as much as he still possibly could, and then he would talk to him. Because they needed to talk.
Isso garota
Harris was one of the only ones wearing a shirt, but it was a tank top, so he felt practically naked. He was tossing a Frisbee with Bood and Dykstra, which was a physical activity he was actually good at. He'd engaged in another physical activity he was good at last night, so he was on a real fitness kick lately. Practically a decathlete.
Misericórdia piada ruim
Troy liked him way too much. He'd come out to him. Maybe in a very backwards kind of way, where he had sex with him first and then told him he was gay, but that was how he'd told Adrian too.
Na minha cabeça o Harris não tem barba
Troy looked like he wanted to push it, but instead trailed his fingers into Harris's chest hair, away from the marred flesh that Harris hated so much. "Love all this hair," Troy murmured. "So fucking sexy."
Na minha cabeça ele é lisinho
But mostly it was incredible to be pressed against Harris. To be in his bed, making him gasp with pleasure. Kissing him. "Want you to fuck me," Harris panted against Troy's lips.
Dahora que não ta falando do tamanho do pau deles
Harris's dick was so cute. Troy wasn't sure how to express that without sounding weird, so he kept it to himself. Troy's own dick was decent looking, long and lean with, he thought, a good shape to it. Harris's dick was chubby and a little shorter than Troy's, and had a single freckle on the head that Troy was already obsessed with.
Gostei
"What the fuck am I lying on?" He reached under his back and pulled out what appeared to be an extremely battered and worn-out stuffed... giraffe? "Oh," Harris said, reaching for it. "That's Mr. Neck-Neck." Troy held it away from him, examining the well-loved toy. "Jeez. Mr. Neck-Neck has been through it." "Yeah," Harris said, dropping his hand. "I've had him since I was a baby. We used to be inseparable." "Cute." "He was comforting, y'know, when I was... Well, I was in the hospital a lot as a kid. And as an adult, I guess, but mostly as a kid."
Que bobo
Troy turned on his side so they could face each other. "You wanna talk about it?"
E o personagem amadurece
"We drive. Or he flies alone. I don't go on every trip." His eyes narrowed. "Wait. Who's telling you all of this?" "Uh..." Okay, so this was the other thing Troy wanted to talk about. "My friend Harris. He's a big fan of Fabian's and he does the social media for the Centaurs. He's... gay." Ryan's eyebrows shot up. "You have a gay friend now?" "Yeah, uh. That's the other thing I wanted to apologize for. I said a lot of homophobic shit when I played for Toronto and I shouldn't have. I don't want to make excuses, but I was kind of... hiding behind it, if you know what I mean. That doesn't make it less shitty. But it's why I did it." He could see Ryan putting things together in his head. "Wait. You're gay?" Troy swallowed. "Yes." Ryan blew out a breath. "Didn't see that one coming." "I know." Troy couldn't tell from Ryan's expression if he actually cared about any of this. "Does your friend know you're gay?" Ryan asked. "Who? Harris?" "No, Dallas." Troy's stomach clenched the way it always did when he heard Dallas's name. "Wow. You really haven't been following hockey. We're not friends anymore." "Oh. Good." "I know." Both men shared an awkward silence, then Ryan said, "I should go meet Fabian backstage. But, um..." "Yeah. Of course. Go." Troy hesitated, then said, "I'm glad you're happy, Ryan." Ryan nodded. "Good luck with, y'know, figuring everything out." He left quickly without a glance back, which Troy couldn't blame him for. He was glad he'd gotten a chance to apologize, but he didn't expect Ryan to want to talk to him for any longer than he needed to. But there was someone here who did want to talk to Troy. Who always had time for him, and seemed to really care about him. And Troy wasn't going to keep him waiting.
Gostei dessa interação com Ryan
"Is there video footage of Dallas being arrested?" Troy asked, because he wasn't entirely a nice guy. Not yet. "Hell yes there is," Wyatt said, and held out his phone so Troy could watch the short clip. There was Dallas Kent, head down, expression dark. He looked more annoyed than anything, like he expected this to all be over soon. Troy desperately hoped it wouldn't be.
Po, era o seu melhor amigo
Troy almost regretted being named the first star of the game. He had earned it, certainly, by scoring two of Ottawa's four goals. They had won the game, and Troy knew he would never forget this incredible night. But when he skated out to salute the crowd after being named first star, there was another standing ovation that went on far longer than usual. He felt fragile after his emotional roller coaster of a day, as well as the hard-fought game, and this was too much. There were so many signs. A lot that said We Love You, Troy and Proud of Troy Barrett and similar things. Troy couldn't really process it. He gave a final wave and left the ice, eyes burning. He didn't have enough fluid left in him to cry right now.
Ah que demais
Ilya wrapped him in a hug. He was bare-chested, so Troy's face was mashed against his ugly grizzly bear tattoo. "Amazing," Ilya said. "Like a Disney movie." "The one where the prince gets hugged by a sweaty oaf at the end?"
Ai que delicia
"I was thinking," Troy said cautiously, "maybe you could help me look for a house. Maybe something in the country?" Harris covered his mouth with his hand. "Stop it." Troy smiled. "Maybe something big enough for Chiron." "Can I visit sometimes?" "If you bring pie." Harris sniffed, but his eyes were bright with happiness. "So you like Ottawa now?" Troy placed a hand on Harris's cheek and said, honestly, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
Quase nao teve putaria nesse
📋
Ficha técnica
Título: Role Model (Game Changers, #5) Autor: Rachel Reid Editora: Carina Press Páginas: 323 Data da Publicação Original: 10 de agosto de 2021 ISBN 10: 1488076987 ISBN 13: 9781488076985
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