Page 99 of Double Shot

For some reason, that seemed to mollify Crossbody, who sniffed and lifted his chin but didn’t look quite so murderous anymore.

Soon Corey strode to the front of the group and began herding us onto the bus. I ended up sitting with Ludo, who knew me well enough to know I wasn’t a big conversationalist. We exchanged pleasantries, he asked a question or two about how much I was currently lifting, and then we each stared at our phones for the remainder of the journey.

I texted Klaus for most of the drive. He had the day off after a weekend of working night shifts at the motel, so he was catching up on chores. We had plans for me to go to his place after the team-building day, which, thinking about it, meant I’d have to find a way to get back to my car from Gargy’s. Maybe I could give the bus driver a second bribe.

We hadn’t seen each other since last week. I’d had a lot of rehearsals because I’d performed so many times at the weekend, and he’d worked every night at the motel. I was definitely feeling the effects of going several days without seeing him. I was tense, edgy, and I’d apparently had “even more aggressive energy than normal” in my performances all weekend, according to Holt, which he’d meant as a glowing compliment.

The day I’d helped Klaus move, he’d ended up sleeping through the night after getting upset about the cake and dozing off on the couch. When he’d woken in the morning, he’d seemed embarrassed, and kept apologising for me having to sleep on the armchair, which, yeah, hadn’t exactly been comfortable. He’d looked guilty until I’d pulled him onto my lap and wrapped him in another hug, still half-asleep. After a couple of seconds, he’d melted, nestling his head into my neck with a sigh. We’d dozed again until I woke up a second time and realised I had to get to work for a rehearsal.

Technically, we still hadn’t ended the no-sex rule yet.

That was going to change tonight. Dan could turn up and sit in the room with us with a tub of popcorn and it wouldn’t make a difference. We’d reached our limit. I’d jerked off so many times in the last few days that I was surprised my dick wasn’t chafed. Our late-night messages now comprised solely of graphic, detailed descriptions of what we wanted to do to each other. Klaus had sent me a photo from the motel reception’s back room of his fingers teasing his hard, leaking dick, and I’d stared at that photo so much that my phone had started giving me friendly but concerned notifications about my excessive screen time.

If Ludo hadn’t been sitting next to me on this bus, I would’ve been staring at it again right now.

Just thinking about it was enough to distract me as the bus came to a stop and we all piled out. The Heracles Community Centre was a wide, squat red brick building on a quiet street that appeared to also house small distribution centres and the head offices of several charities. There was a handwritten sign already taped to the glass doors that said CLOSED TODAY FOR PRIVATE BOOKING. The Os in ‘booking’ were love hearts, and the words had been written in bubble font outlined in pink, which told me I was likely moments away from seeing Klaus’s very intimidating best friend again.

When we’d been helping Klaus move last week, Nat had told me that the Heracles Community Centre was a fitness and activities centre for supernaturals. At least, it was owned and operated by supernaturals, and held a lot of activities for the city’s elderly supernatural population, like pickleball and bingo. Of course, humans could still go there if they wanted to, they just weren’t aware that they were mostly surrounded by supernatural beings if they did. But because it only employed other supernaturals, and because Holt had hired the whole place for the day, we’d be able to be in our natural forms, which would at least make this thing a little more bearable.

“Okay.” Holt was at the front of the group, and he turned around by the doors to face us, hands on his hips, which just drew everyone’s gazes to the fairly prominent bulge under the narrow strip of leopard-print leotard between his legs. “Have fun today, everyone, and for the love of god, please don’t embarrass me.”

“Aww, come on, boss,” Vince piped up. When do we ever embarrass you?”

Holt huffed incredulously. “Well, Vince, there was that Christmas party a couple years back when you told our waiter we were out celebrating my world record for largest number of eggs a person can fit up their ass.”

Dan burst out laughing and Vince tried his hardest to suppress a snort. Beside him, Crossbody sighed lightly and shook his head, but his mouth was twitching.

“Aw, honey.” Taylor gave Holt’s back a sympathetic rub.

“And there was that night at Gargy’s last year when several of you—” He pointed an accusing finger at Vince, Kit, Dan and Gabe. “—told that group of drunk German werewolf tourists that I wanted to take them all on in a breakdancing competition, so they surrounded me and started doing flips and stuff.”

“Hey, at least you tried!” Kit said encouragingly.

“That was worse!” Holt glared at them. “That made it worse! I looked like a complete idiot!”

“To be fair, boss, you can’t really blame us for you thinking you’d be an amazing breakdancer with zero experience or training,” Vince pointed out.

“And we weren’t the ones making you drink all those wine coolers,” Dan added.

“Yeah, well, you knew how I get when I’m wine-drunk,” Holt shot back, then exhaled forcefully and smoothed his hair, trying to calm down. “Anyway. If any of you—” He glared at Vince specifically. “—do something similar today, I will follow through on the threats to take away the TV at work.”

Kit gasped in genuine despair. “No! Not the TV!”

“Alright, team.” Corey clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “As Holt says, best behaviour today, please. We’re here to have fun. To bond. To enjoy the wonderful sport of… What is it we’re doing again?” he murmured to Holt.

“Pickleball,” Taylor helpfully supplied.

“The wonderful sport of pickleball,” Corey declared, as if he were announcing one of Shakespeare’s greatest works. “Played by humans for centuries. A classic—”

“It’s actually quite a new sport,” Taylor said. “Around since the sixties, I think.”

“Well anyway, just… have fun.” Corey waved a hand, then turned to open the doors.

Chapter 35

The Sound of Pickleballs

Brian