Lucky Shot

Chapter 1

Elixon “Lix” Kipler

“Are you really going to walk around naked?” Oddny asks as Max swaggers by. His hair is a fucking mess, which is impressive considering how short it is. He yawns and scratches at his stomach before dropping his hand down to scratch his junk. Then he winces and glares at Oddny as if it were his fault.

“Yes,” Max says and sways his hips in such a way that his dick slaps his thighs. It only makes him wince further, since his cock is heavily sunburned.

Oddny shakes his head. “Maybe you oughtn’t fall asleep in the sun without clothes.”

“Oughtenantt,” Max scoffs. “Use English words.”

I shake my head as Max turns to walk away.

“It was English until you butchered it,” Oddny snickers. He glances at me. “At least he has a nice ass.”

My gaze travels back to where Max is heading for the small group by the jetted hot tub. I kind of hope he tries to get into it. That’ll really burn his cock. The thought makes me smirk as an image of him howling like a banshee as he jumps out of the water and probably falls onto his face streaks through my head.

We’re aboard a 436-foot yacht that literally has everything you could ever imagine. Including a really hot crew of fifty-two men that wear very little and wait on us all day. None are quite as impressive as the captain himself, a man that can’t be more than in his late thirties, named Tal Weiss. I’m not sure what it is about this man, but fuck, he’s going to star in my fantasies for sure.

He already has.

The ‘Gays Can Play’ crew across all professional sports have made this a tradition every year since there became a handful of us out in sports. I wasn’t one of the first, but I think I joined somewhere around the third annual spring/summer trip. That sweet spot when most professional sports are on off season.

While it’s not just hockey players in attendance, we usually make up the majority of the attendees. Part of me thinks it’s because we all get to watch Max make a fool of himself and manage at least a single scandal before we head back to our final destination in Miami at the end of the trip. At minimum one. Three years ago, there were no less than four.

I’m honestly not sure how he’s able to keep his contracts. It’s one thing to be a great player—and he sure as fuck is—but man, the negative PR he brings to his teams is incredible. My understanding is Max is on a tight leash these days. Between his agent and the Philly coaches, he’s on his last chance.

He is somewhat protected on the Opulence, though. The entire crew signed an NDA before we boarded. So at least when he’s on deck, he’s fairly safe to be the problematic man he is. As I watch him flirt shamelessly with one of the crew, I wonder how many he’s already fucked. Maximus Latham, hockey’s fuckboy extraordinaire.

Although, I halfheartedly wonder if he’ll be fucking anything with his cock as red and angry as it is. And that’s not from arousal. The idea alone makes me wince. I’m not sure I’d even want to stroke it myself if that were me. He really does have a fucking burn in the most unfortunate of places.

Maybe it’s karma.

Next to me, Odd snickers and shakes his head, muttering about Max being an idiot. Oddny Charles is one of the ten or so on board who are not hockey players. He plays American football for Seattle. I think he’s pretty good, but I’d be lying if I say I follow other sports with more than a cursory interest. I like to see who wins their championships but otherwise, I have my hands full keeping up with hockey and the teams and players we face.

“He’s harmless,” I say, then tilt my head. “Though I’d stay away from him in public. He’s likely to take you down with him and probably not even intentionally. I don’t think he realizes he’s causing chaos while doing it.”

“You really think he’s that naïve?” Oddny asks.

I shrug. “I’ve known Max for a while, and I genuinely don’t think he’s a bad guy. He clearly wants attention. That stems from somewhere.”

Oddny snorts. “I like attention too, but I don’t get my dick sunburned as an excuse to walk around nude.”

“It could be worse. At least he’s… nice to look at.”

“Yeah…” he says and his eyes flicker to the man walking out of the cabin.

Noah Kain is a wingman for the Florida Manatees. He’s one of the few who actually came into the sport already out. I’m always surprised when I see him out of his gear. He’s… pretty. Slight build, lean with lithe muscles. His skin is smooth and flawless. His hair, blond, slightly long, and usually a mess, falls to his jawline and frames dark brown eyes and perfect pink lips.

There’s always a line of people after him. Eyes trailing him. He’s just one of those people who you can’t help but watch because their beauty is so radiant. I can’t help the image that always flashes in my head of putting him in a dress, just so I can run my fingers over his smooth planes wrapped in satin.

He’s a good kid. I refer to him as ‘kid’ in my head constantly because he’s a decade younger than me. It helps me keep perspective.

Especially when he smiles because his youth just shines through.

“Mm,” Oddny hums. I glance his way to see him watching Noah too. Unlike me, I can see the desire in his eyes. I’m able to look at Noah objectively because there’s only the acknowledgment that he’s attractive. There’s nothing in me that turns on at the thought, though.

Noah’s eyes flicker our way, probably feeling us watching him. He gives us a grin and continues further down the deck toward the bow of the ship, where there are couches and a bar.

“If he wears any less…” Oddny says, shifting in his seat.

I shake my head, my attention already having moved on to others who have come out of their rooms for the day.

“To the Gay Gathering,” Max cheers, lifting his beer-filled stein causing amber liquid to slosh over the side as he waves it in the air.

“Did we agree on that name?” Ethan asks as he lounges back in Creed’s lap, lazily watching Max make a fool of himself with a microphone in one hand and the sloshing beer in the other. I think he’s going to be giving karaoke a try, but we’ll see.

I hadn’t thought that Buffalo’s starting line would be joining us. As far as I knew, they’d never been on the trip before, though I’m not sure it was for lack of invite. After the hell they went through last season, they’d been keeping such a low profile that the only reason I knew they were still around was because I watched their games.

I’ve always liked Ethan Wilder. He’s one of those people with a big smile and a friendly demeanor. Always ready to laugh and help out in whatever way he can. Credence Ayrton was with him more times than not, but there used to be a very charged distance between them. Everyone could feel it. Fuck, even I could feel it!

I’m pretty sure the entire hockey world took a breath of relief when the two finally got together.

And then there was Jakub Bozik who came out of left field. Or… the opposite end of the continent. The chaos that followed basically gave Max a window to let loose and no one noticed since every single camera was focused on the trio.

I was incredibly relieved when someone took the spotlight off them. If there were ever men who didn’t deserve the backlash they received, it was those three. Well, Creed and Ethan. Jakub had always been one of those players you knew upon sight but have never spoken to. He always kept to himself.

After reading all the articles on their relationship, I understood why. I’ve spent a few hours talking to him since the trip began and he’s a really good guy. Which doesn’t surprise me. I can’t imagine Ethan with an asshole.

“It’s not so bad,” Creed says. “At least he’s not calling this something like Pixies on the Sea.”

“Don’t let him hear you,” Owen hisses. Thankfully, Max has begun belting out the first lines of… I have no idea. Between his slurred words, off key tune, and his inability to keep the microphone to his mouth, I’m not sure what we’re listening to. “The last thing we want is for him to start calling us pixies.”

I chuckle, though he’s not wrong. Max would likely bring that home with us and the next thing we’d know, it would be all over the internet.

Owen snickers at something Ethan says and turns back to watch Max. I forget how much I enjoy Owen. He’s a big guy with the most striking blue eyes and baby blond hair. Actually, the two of us get confused often. Apparently, we look a lot alike. Since we both tend to be laid-back and observant rather than overly talkative, it only adds to our combined mystique.

We rarely manage to catch up, though. While so many of the ‘Gays Can Play’ crew grab dinner when we’re in the same city, Owen usually passes. I have theories that he’s hiding a family or some shit, but have never outright asked. He always claims to be single whenever it’s brought up.

Once, I might have said there was no way in hell he’d be able to hide anything like that, but since finding out Ethan and Jakub had hidden their marriage for seven fucking years… I don’t dare say anything is impossible.

Max continues to bellow words that I’m not sure are part of the same song while we take wagers on how long it’ll be before he falls on his face. He stops mid-verse to take a long pull from his beer and then picks up again, but I think he’s moved on to a different song.

“Hello, hello did you call? I cannot hear youuu… hello, hello, hello.”

“I think that’s supposed to be Gaga,” Creed says.

“He’s butchering it,” Owen says as Jakub joins us. He takes his seat next to Ethan and Creed, handing them both a drink and kissing each on the temple.

While I roll my eyes and look away, my chest clenches. Not with jealousy. I’m very happy for them. Very. Especially now that they can just live without everyone breathing down their necks.

But I’m left wondering why I can’t find a single person to love me, and they found two.

“Sto-o-o-pppp calling me my drink is on the dance floor!”

“I feel like they’re going to sue him just for butchering their song,” Owen says but he’s grinning as he sways along. I shake my head.

Max is further encouraged when a group gets up in front of the stage he’s singing on and begins dancing. I laugh under my breath when I spot Oddny with Noah. I’m pretty sure Oddny’s been hung up on Noah for like three years now. Whether this is him making a move or not, I’m unsure.

Noah doesn’t seem overly interested in anyone. He moves between bodies, always with a smile on his pretty face. When Gabe Zanderman pulls Noah away, Oddny abruptly stops dancing and glares as if he could shove Gabe into the pits of hell with his eyes alone.

I chuckle as Oddny turns away and stalks off the dance floor. He adjusts his trajectory when he sees me and drops into the chair at my side.

“Your plans for the night have been thwarted, huh?” I ask.

Oddny huffs and waves his hand. “We’re stopping at Kala in two days. I’ll get my dick warm there.” He glares at them dancing again and mutters, “Bet I can find someone who looks like him too.”

Noah has already traded dance partners and is now being groped by Felton Badcock, Winnipeg’s goalie.

“I don’t think Noah’s looking for someone to go to bed with, mate,” Owen says as he leans back on the chair, the front two legs coming up from the floor. “He’s just having a good time.”

Oddny doesn’t answer as he continues to glower.

I watch the handful of dancers on the dance floor now gyrating to a Katy Perry song that Max is butchering and maybe stitching it together with a Jake Hill song. They trade partners readily, all bumping and grinding together. Their greedy hands are constantly touching and pinching and pulling.

Absently, I wonder how many people have been climbing into bed together on this trip. Aside from the coupled-up ones like Buffalo’s starting line and Larson with his spitfire husband. His husband is one of the guys on the dance floor, shaking his ass and waving his hand over his head like he has a lasso.

It’s close to midnight when I head out of the party and toward my room. They’re just as opulent as the rest of the ship with textured wallpaper and $10,000 mattresses. I won’t even say what I’ve seen the bedding listed for. Out of curiosity the other night, I looked it up. Ouch.

Just as I’m reaching the residence floor, Oddny catches up. “Hey,” he calls and I pause a few feet from my door.

“What’s up? Didn’t score Noah tonight?”

He scowls at me, glaring with the best of them. I try not to smirk. “No,” he says, rolling his eyes and stopping in front of me. A little closer than necessary.

When he licks his lips, my stomach churns. Oh, fuck. Please, no. Did I give any mixed signals? Why does this always have to be awkward?!

“You want some company?” Oddny asks, stepping closer still and making it overtly obvious what his question is actually asking.

Awkwardly, I take a step back and hit the wall. Oddny chuckles, his hand moving to my hip.

“I didn’t take you for shy, Lix.”

I try not to shudder because I really don’t like to be touched. “I’m not shy,” I say. “I’m just not… interested?”

Oddly tilts his head but his hand doesn’t move. His fingers dig in slightly. “You don’t have to be interested, man. All I’m suggesting is friendly fucking.”

Placing my hand on his chest, I gently push him away a few inches. “I’m… flattered?” I say, and he gives me an amused smile. “Look. I don’t do casual. I swear to you, it’s not personal.”

“It’s not me, it’s you?” he says, releasing me.

I exhale as my tension leaves. “Sometimes, that’s really the case, Odd. This truly is a me thing. It has nothing to do with you.”

Oddny stares at me, pushing his hands into his pockets. I hold my breath. Over the years, I’ve seen all sorts of responses to this exact situation. ‘I don’t do casual’ is usually an easy out, but there are always those who take offense to it.

Finally, he nods and takes a few steps back. “Sorry, man. Wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

I relax and shake my head. “It’s cool. We good?”

Oddny smirks again, once more amused. “Yeah. Like I said, I was looking for a friendly fuck. Not a lifetime commitment. Just wanted to scratch a mutual itch, you know? No big deal, Lix. See you tomorrow.” He slaps my shoulder and moves back down the hall.

Guess he didn’t realize that there is no itch over here. He’d have had better odds with me if he offered the lifetime commitment.