Home > Unravel Me (Playing for Keeps #3)

Unravel Me (Playing for Keeps #3)
Author: Becka Mack










“I fucked up.”

The slurred words are buried in my pillow, where there’s definitely not a warm pile of drool gathering. There’s a steady beat pounding in my head, and I flip over, squeezing my eyes shut at the bright sunlight burning like laser beams through my bedroom window.

My fuckup revolves around the reason for the headache beating at my skull: the amount of alcohol I consumed last night, and Carter.

Fucking Carter. The reason behind 99 percent of my fuckups, especially of the alcohol-fueled variety.

Hence the video that’s currently the hot topic in our hockey group chat, Puck Sluts , when I manage to find my phone.

What’s the video of? Me, upside down and holding onto a keg of beer while my teammates Emmett and Garrett hold me by the legs, Jaxon videotapes, and Carter holds the spout in my mouth, shit-talking me to keep me going. And who are the Puck Sluts? Us, obviously.



U still sleeping, Woody?



Woody’s a shortened version of my last name, Lockwood. Oh, and, uh, also ’cause the guys once caught me jerking off in my hotel room. Not my proudest moment, and one they won’t let go. But hey, I was, like, fifteen hundred miles away from my girlfriend, and only nineteen. Sue a guy for trying to get some relief.



sleeping off his hangover like a wittle baby, just like my wittle girl



Attached is a picture of his five-month-old daughter, Ireland, every ounce as sweet as her dad is annoying.



even ollie is up n she did 3 keg stands. get it together.



Okay, well, that’s not fair. His wife, Olivia, is a champ when it comes to drinking, even though she’s barely the size of the pup cup I get at Starbucks for my dog. Plus, I deserve to blow off some steam. My friends are all settling down, except for Jaxon, and we aren’t anywhere close to being on the same level. He goes on multiple dates a month to get laid; I go on multiple dates to come home alone, disappointed, and tired of looking for something that’s probably not even out there at this point. Not for me, anyway.



You guys up for a rollerblade sesh this AM?





30 mins? Jennie’s about to take me for a ride.





fuck. u.





Rather fuck ur sister.





i’m gonna fucking kill u





Dad??? This is where you interject.



I’m Dad, and my unofficial job is to keep Carter and Garrett safe from each other. Carter’s still coming to terms with one of his best friends dating his little sister, and Garrett’s turned into a bit of an antagonizing shit who loves to throw in his face that he’s regularly nailing Jennie. It’s super entertaining to see someone annoy Carter as much as he annoys the rest of us, but I’m not physically capable of keeping them both alive today.



I’m letting natural selection take its course today.





WTF? Ur just gonna let Carter come after me?





Don’t know if I can make it. Think I pulled my groin. Also, RIP Gare-Bear.





Doing what?





*smirking emoji* you mean doing who



Groaning, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. All the blood rushes to my head, and I press my fingers to the throbbing ache in my temples before typing out my next message, which is more a beg than anything. I simply cannot function today without eating enough to feed a family of four.



Fuck. Big Macs, please.



The boys are eager to fuck the rollerblading and go to McDonald’s instead, so I crank the shower in my bathroom to wash away what I can of this hangover before drowning the rest in greasy burgers and salty fries.

My dick stands tall, bobbing against my belly button, begging me to take care of my morning woody. When I step beneath the warm water and wrap my fist around my cock, my other palm flat against the marbled wall, I drop my head and groan.

I’ve been fucking my hand for so long now, I don’t even remember what it feels to be inside of someone. And honestly? I’m tired. It’s not the sex I miss but the connection. My person used to be my whole world, above hockey, above everything.

And in a single moment, she shattered that world.

She took so many pieces of me and threw them to her feet, ground them to dust beneath her pointy-as-fuck heels.

I don’t miss her. I miss the love that was once there, the body I held against mine each night, the way my heart soared every time she smiled at me. I miss the way she loved me before she…


She stopped, and now I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone who loves me for me.

Not Adam Lockwood, superstar goalie. Not the NHL’s golden boy, the ticket to luxury, A-list events, vacation properties, and never having to work another day in your life.


I shake away the thoughts at the same moment I realize my cock has gone limp. Chuckling, I grab the soap and lather up. Nothing kills a boner faster than thinking about Courtney.

When I step out of the shower, I realize my dog, Bear, isn’t in my room. He’s attached to my hip, all one-hundred-and-forty pounds of him, and usually enjoys when I’ve been drinking because I get extra cuddly. My phone says it’s after ten, so the poor guy is probably practicing his best dramatics, playing dead at his bowl in the kitchen.

I pull on a pair of boxer briefs and jog down the stairs, not pausing at the sound of dishes clanging in the kitchen. It’s typical to wake up to a few teammates still around the morning after a party, but I don’t expect the leggy blonde strutting down the hallway, right toward me. She finishes applying her pink lip gloss as her eyes roam over me, standing here mostly naked. “Thanks for the fun, handsome.” With her hand on my torso, she presses a lingering kiss to my cheek, making it heat.

“Uh…” I run my hand through my mussed curls. “I don’t know who you…what…fun?”

“All of it.” She winks, steps into a pair of red heels, and takes off, leaving me super fucking confused.

We didn’t…?

No, because I wouldn’t ever do that. Right? And if I did, I’d definitely remember. Sex with a stranger? Not me, not in my right mind.

Unless I wasn’t in my right mind.

I shake my head, sighing when I spot Bear at the edge of the kitchen. “There you are, buddy.”

Chocolate eyes flick to me, heavy with disdain.

Sinking to my knees, I bury my fingers in his thick, dark fur. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lock you out of bed, and I’m late for breakfast. I had too much to drink last night. Forgive me?”

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