Overtime by V. L. Locey

Author:V. L. Locey [Locey, V. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: polyam, gay, Romance, Hockey, Lgbt, sports
Publisher: V.L. Locey
Published: 2018-06-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Ten days later, we were on the charter bus, idling outside the Rader, waiting for the last member of the coaching staff to arrive. When he did, it was like witnessing a ginger tornado blowing into the bus.

“Okay, whoever keeps dropping these motherfucking things in my office is going to have to get a bootectomy to remove my fucking shoe from his tender little ass!” Victor whipped a small rubber shark into the seats, his hazel eyes snapping with anger. “I mean it, you sniggering twat lizards. If I find out who’s doing this on a fucking daily basis, I will bench your ass. Keep that in mind the next time you’re all about the tee-hee-hee middle school prank shit. I am beyond deadly serious. I will find you, and I will kill you. Liam Neeson has nothing on me, you immature fucks.”

I watched the shark get tossed from left side of the bus to right after Kalinski threw himself into his seat next to Dan. Someone started tossing out quotes from Jaws. Smiling internally, eternally grateful to the internet and express shipping for one hundred rubber toy sharks, I sat back, earbuds in, and started listening to one of Noah’s books in audio. The trip to Binghamton was just over an hour. We’d play and go back to Cayuga, rolling in around midnight or one.

Then I’d leap into my car and drive to Varick to spend what was left of the night with Noah and Mat, since he was flying out on a red-eye tomorrow morning for Phoenix and spring training. Noah was a mess already, fluctuating between stressing over Mat’s impending absence and my lack of therapy/meds. Last night, I had promised him I would get on track, and I would, but now I had a bigger worry to attend to. Not that the rise in anxiety triggers wasn’t a worry, because it was, but I wasn’t ready to toss all my shit out into the open. Asking for personal days to go to the parole hearing on Thursday was bad enough. Begging for a shrink and dope for my issues was just unthinkable. Yet, the attack I’d last had made it hard to ignore. One thing at a time. That’s what they say. One thing at a time. Parole hearing first. Keeping Wade in prison was the top priority. Once I knew he was safely behind bars for a couple more years, I’d be able to breathe and the need for a counselor and meds would be less pressing. See, everything hinged on Wade staying behind bars.

Someone tapped the top of my head. I rolled a lip and ignored. The next tap was more of a slap and that could not be ignored. I ripped out my earbuds and threw a glower at the redhead hanging over the back of my seat.

“Hey,” McGarrity whispered from behind me. “It’s my birthday.”

“Yeah? You get your new AARP card in the mail yet?” I went to cram my earbuds back in.

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