Bishop gives me a brief glance. “Yeah. We’ll come out for a bit.”
He looks away, but then his head snaps back to me with eyes rounded. His arm raises and he points a finger at me. “What the fuck is that?”
I look down but I know what he’s talking about. I hastily pull my boxers up my legs, covering my newly soft and smooth balls.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl as I reach into my bag for a fresh T-shirt to wear under my dress shirt.
“Seriously, Erik…what the fuck was that?” he asks with a laugh.
My head snaps his way. “What the fuck are you looking at my dick for?”
“I’m looking at your naked nuts, dude,” he replies, his laugh getting slightly more hysterical.
Dax walks toward us. His locker is opposite mine.
As I’m pulling my T-shirt over my head, Bishop guffaws. “Dax…did you know that Erik shaved his nuts?”
My head pops through the top of the shirt. “I didn’t shave them. I waxed them.”
Bishop starts laughing so hard he almost falls off the bench. Dax’s lips quirk up in amusement. He didn’t get to see my fresh new balls, so he doesn’t see the same hilarity that clearly Bishop does.
He does ask, however, “Why did you get waxed?”
“To get a date with Blue,” I reply. No sense in lying about it.
That makes Bishop laugh so loud, several teammates start poking their heads around the corner of our locker row to see what’s going on. I just shake my head and keep getting dressed.
Tonight I’d worn a light gray suit that I’d recently had custom tailored. We’re required to dress up for home games, Dominik Carlson wanting us to look our best for the press and fans who wait for us outside the player parking lot. We’re also required to wear them out of the arena for the same reason.
“You seriously waxed your nuts for a date?” Dax asks incredulously.
“It’s Blue,” I merely reply, as if that’s all the damn reason I need.
“Who waxed their nuts?” Legend asks as he enters our row. His locker is to my immediate left.
Bishop is still leaning over, pressing one palm down on the bench with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing. Which he’s still doing.
“I did,” I tell Legend, deciding to just take ownership. “I asked Blue out to dinner and she agreed if I got a Brazilian wax.”
“That’s torturous, dude,” Legend says sympathetically.
“How do you know?” Dax asks him.
Bishop continues to laugh, dabbing at his eyes now.
“Dated a girl once that did it and she told me. I didn’t doubt her.”
“It was nothing,” I lie to my friends.
“What’s it feel like?” Bishop gasps as he tries to sit straight up. “Not the actual waxing, but you know…silky, soft testicles.”
I don’t bother answering him. Whatever I say will only give him a hernia, probably.
“He’ll let you know once he has Blue licking them,” Dax chortles and I whirl on him with a savage snarl.
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” I grit out.
Bishop starts cackling now and Dax holds his hands up apologetically. “Whoa, dude. Sorry. I guess that means you’re serious about this girl.”
“I just let someone pour hot wax on my balls and in the crack of my ass, and then rip out my hair. What do you think?”
“Crack. Of. Your. Ass?” Bishop laughs, panting the question out.
“Oh, grow up,” I snap at him. He’s had his laugh. Time to let it go.
But I tell them all in case there’s any doubt. “Blue’s off limits.”
Nothing else needs to be said. Even Bishop finally stops cackling. It will circulate around the players. Blue is not to be hit on or talked about in anything but a respectful manner from here on out.* * *—
The Sneaky Saguaro has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players. It’s two stories of southwestern flair with the waitresses dressed in tight shorts and cowboy boots. I like it because it carries 127 types of beer and I like beer. The food isn’t bad either.
The manager has taken to roping off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. But that doesn’t mean we don’t attend to the fans that come here to see us. As soon as we arrive, we’ll mill about the first-floor bar area and give all the fans an opportunity to take pictures and we sign autographs.
There are more and more coming to see us after every game, particularly because we’re doing so well. Tonight there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.
I nod at a bouncer who now tends the door since the Sneaky Saguaro has become so popular and enter. It takes me a good half hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at tables or standing around talking. Several puck bunnies have been allowed in and are doing their best to get noticed by the players. The outfits are ridiculously sexy and I’m not complaining.