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Delayed Call: Second Chance Gay Hockey Romance
It’s not gay if we’re just getting off...
Back in college, Aiden Kasey and I had a filthy little arrangement that he insisted was just “stress relief between bros.”
He swore he wasn’t gay. I wasn’t about to interrupt a perfectly good handshake to argue. Five years later, he’s getting married and I’m trying not to puke as I sit in the pews and watch.
Then his bride bolts, leaving Aiden standing in front of a church full of whispering guests. And I’m the idiot who hauls him out of there to protect him from prying eyes.
One bottle of whiskey and heartache later, Aiden is in my lap, kissing me like no time has passed. And this time, I’m the idiot who makes us stop.
But not forever.
Soon we’re sneaking around between road trips, trading filthy texts, and hooking up every time Seattle plays Vancouver. It’s just rebound sex, an old habit between rivals.
Except the guy who swore he was straight is spending holidays in my kitchen, coming apart in my bed, and calling because he wants to hear my voice.
And I’m checking our schedules because I miss him, not just because I want to get laid.
He’s “not gay.” We still live in different countries. Neither seems to matter much when he’s curled up beside me.
Then he has to leave.
And I don’t know how long I can keep pretending I don’t want a real future with him.
Back in college, Aiden Kasey and I had a filthy little arrangement that he insisted was just “stress relief between bros.”
He swore he wasn’t gay. I wasn’t about to interrupt a perfectly good handshake to argue. Five years later, he’s getting married and I’m trying not to puke as I sit in the pews and watch.
Then his bride bolts, leaving Aiden standing in front of a church full of whispering guests. And I’m the idiot who hauls him out of there to protect him from prying eyes.
One bottle of whiskey and heartache later, Aiden is in my lap, kissing me like no time has passed. And this time, I’m the idiot who makes us stop.
But not forever.
Soon we’re sneaking around between road trips, trading filthy texts, and hooking up every time Seattle plays Vancouver. It’s just rebound sex, an old habit between rivals.
Except the guy who swore he was straight is spending holidays in my kitchen, coming apart in my bed, and calling because he wants to hear my voice.
And I’m checking our schedules because I miss him, not just because I want to get laid.
He’s “not gay.” We still live in different countries. Neither seems to matter much when he’s curled up beside me.
Then he has to leave.
And I don’t know how long I can keep pretending I don’t want a real future with him.
296 pages, Kindle Edition
Published November 10, 2026
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