I want my damn dick to work again like it used to.
“Too many hits to the head,” I mutter.
“Oh, poor boo.” Super Tits appears on the floor in front of me, looking up so I can’t avoid her gaze without looking like a total asshole, and no, having a woman kneeling in front of me is still doing nothing in the crotch area. “Did it start after your concussion? That’s not uncommon.”
“No! That was—No. No, it didn’t start after the concussion.” Jesus. Am I really discussing this with these two?
And the concussion was eighteen months ago. Not yesterday.
I need a wingman.
I need a wingman more than I need my dick to roar to life.
Possibly an exaggeration, except for the part where I don’t know exactly what would happen to my dick if he did roar to life, since it’s been…
Let’s call it a while and leave it at that, okay?
“So you could get it up right after your injury?” she presses.
“I was fine.”
“Can you masturbate?”
I can’t keep track of which one of them is talking and firing off all the questions, but that last one has me glaring at Sparkle Hair.
Because no.
No, actually, I can’t fucking masturbate.
“Oh.”
“Hm.”
“Wow.”
“That’s…”
“Maybe one of us could rub it for you?”
“Yes! Either one. You pick. Bodies respond differently to self-touch than they do to being touched by a different person.”
“I’d suck on you for a while if you thought that would help.”
“Me too. For sure.”
“Do your teammates know?”
I shove up off the bed and stuff myself back in my pants before all three of us start inspecting my limp, pathetic, broken weenie again. “No, they don’t know. And I don’t—I don’t need help. Thank you. Just—just forget this ever happened, okay?”
They share a look, then both nod emphatically. “Yes!”
“Of course.”
“I wasn’t here.”
“Neither was I.”
“We don’t know a thing.”
“Never met you.”
“Nope. Never at all. Though if you want to talk to someone, the doctors where I’m doing my internship are all excellent.”
“Oh my gosh, they really are. Dr. Jelani helped me work through my anxiety over taking tests, and now I’m on track to graduate with my microbiology degree next spring.”
They won’t stop talking.
It’s like being in a room with my sisters, which is impressive, because I have four sisters, yet there are only two very, very smart bunnies here.
“I think we’re overwhelming him, Cassadee,” Super Tits whispers.
“He’s had a rough night,” Cassadee whispers back.
“Clearly,” they say together.
“We fucking won,” I grumble.
“Oh, honey, I know you did.” Sparkle Hair—Cassadee, apparently—whips her phone out of her back pocket. “Listen, I’m going to send you my number, and Athena’s number, and the number for Dr. Jelani. If you ever want to talk, we’re here for you, okay?”
Athena—Super Tits—nods again. “There’s no shame in working through your problems.”
“Especially if it ensures this doesn’t interfere with your game.”
“We seriously love watching you play.”
“Do you know how many people could’ve stepped into Ares Berger’s skates when he got injured two years ago?”
“Like, no one else. Seriously. No one else. You’re a god, Tyler.”
“And we’d hate for this to be the reason you can’t play.”
“I can compartmentalize.” Jesus. What if this interferes with my game?
Staying out late? No problem.
Having a broken dick that all the bunnies know about?
This could seriously mess with my confidence.
I blow out a breath and picture my sisters’ faces where Athena’s and Cassadee’s are, and that helps.
Not with the soft dick situation, obviously, but definitely with the being-henpecked-by-bunnies situation.
My sisters would be doing the exact same thing.
“Can I ask the last time you got it up?”
Dammit. I forgot which one was which, and I don’t know who asked that.
But I know that glaring at her like she’s chirping shit at me on the ice makes me feel better.
Thinking back to the last time I got it up does not.
I know exactly when that was.
The welcome back to hockey party. September. Bunny bar. Walk-in fridge.
Brown hair. Fast words. Bright eyes. Curves. So many curves.
The woman who haunted my dreams for months. Teasing me simply by breathing.
Getting under my skin while staying a hair’s breadth out of reach.
Until that night.
I’d tell you how many times I used to jack off to fantasies of her, but I refuse to admit how high that number is.
And my junk hasn’t worked ever since.
“Hm,” Athena says. Or maybe that’s Cassadee.
The other one pats my arm. “Probably need to work through that.”
“We weren’t here.”
“But I AirDropped you all the numbers. We’re really good listeners.”
“And we love the Thrusters. All of you.”
“Happy to help.”
“Anytime.”
“With anything.”
“But we know when to give you space too.”
“Totally.”
“Completely.”
“Yeah. We’re giving you space.”
“Right now.”
“Call us later!”
“Lock up when you’re done!”
The two of them hustle out of the room. I want to kick something.
Punch something.
Maybe myself. In the junk.
That’ll make it work again, right?
Fuck.
Just fuck.
2
Tyler
I wait ten minutes after Athena and Cassadee have left the apartment, then slink downstairs to the bar.
If we go out as a team after a game, we hit Chester Green’s sports bar by the arena. But for curfew busting parties?
Bunny bar. All the way.
Getting in here is like getting into a secret society. The door’s unmarked. If you can find the door, you still need the password to get in. If you break the rules, the password changes, and you’re shit out of luck.
Not that there are many rules.
It’s mostly no means no, pay for your food and booze, and no fighting.
The bunnies run their own brewery in the basement, they stock top-shelf liquor behind the bar, and they don’t hand out menus since their kitchen is usually stocked to provide nearly anything the clientele here might want, and if they don’t have it, they have ways of getting it.
I don’t ask. No one tells.
It’s another rule.
The décor is silver, pink, and black, with lots of glitter, lots of feathers, fuzz, and fluff, and chairs and loungers built for their comfort. A massive flag with the bunnies’ adopted sorority letters, Iota Feta Eta Pi, hangs on a wall that’s been coated with black glitter, and every time I see it, I think of a cheese pie, and then I get confused.