3. Hunter

HUNTER

Fuck, he doesn't miss a damn thing. He's always so observant, paying attention when I really wish he wouldn"t. Like now. And why is he back so early? I should have had at least another fifteen minutes before he was even released from practice.

But I know him better than he knows himself. And I know how to shift his attention, especially if he thinks he's in charge of this conversation.

I don't think so, mister."Well, are you gonna answer me?"

Lucas is suddenly very interested in straightening his comforter, something he never cares about unless I get on his ass about making his bed. "Coach let us out early today."

I know what he's doing, and it's not gonna work. Not when I need an out more than he does. "Everyone or you?"

He freezes for just a second before flopping down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Fine. Just me, but it's bullshit. I haven't even failed my test yet, and I'm already being punished."

"Punished how?" No one fucks with Lucas but me. And if there's punishment to dole out, I'll be the one to decide.

He shakes his head and blows out a deep breath. "It's just… I can't play till after my test…and then, only if I pass."

"What the fuck, Luke!" I get up and move to his bed, sitting beside him. "You knew this would happen if you didn't get your grades up. When's your test?"

Lucas rolls onto his side, facing the wall. His go-to move when he's pouting. "Next Wednesday."

Today's Thursday so that's a full week. A week of no practice, no games, and tons of time for studying. We got this.

"Okay, this is what we're gonna do." I put my hand on his hip and roll him back so I can see his face. "If you're not playing tomorrow, we're gonna spend the next week getting you ready to pass. Not just calc but all your classes."

He balls up his comforter in his fists and pouts. "My other classes are fine. I mean, not fine fine, but those professors aren't talking to Coach. It's just calc."

"For now." I grab his backpack off the floor and begin pulling out his books. "I want you to write out everything you have due in the next few weeks and what that test is gonna be on. We're getting your grades up…or else."

"Or else what?" His tone is still whiney, but now he's added a bit of ‘tude.

Not today, sweetheart."Or else…" Shit, I don't really have a good answer for that. "You'll do lines."

"Lines?" He raises an eyebrow like he has no idea what l mean. "Like, coke?"

I burst out laughing and shove his arm. "No, not coke. What the hell?"

Lucas relaxes and smiles too. "Well, what do you mean by lines? What is that?"

Am I really doing this? If it takes his mind off what he saw or didn't see when he walked in, then yes, I'm definitely doing this. "You'll write lines. On paper. Over and over again until you start to take your studies more seriously."

"Oh." His eyes are locked with mine, and then he reaches for a pillow and pulls it over his middle. "Okay."

"Okay, then." I take a deep breath, grateful I dodged that bullet. This time, at least. But I need to figure my shit out before he does. "So, have you eaten?"

Lucas puts his hand on his belly and shakes his head. Just then, it rumbles, giving him away. "Not since lunch."

"Hit the shower, and I'll make something." I do a quick mental inventory of what we have on hand. There's not much, but we won't starve. "Spaghetti and turkey meatballs or frozen pizza?"

"Not frozen pizza. Ew." He makes a face as he sits up and places his hands on my chest as if to playfully push me away.

Unfortunately, it just makes a whole new flood of milk pour out of me. Thankfully, he doesn't notice before I hop up and turn toward my bed and straighten the pillows that got messed up during my pathetic attempt at hand expressing. "Spaghetti it is."

"Thanks, Hunt."

I nod as I walk out of our room. "Clean up. You have twenty minutes."

Once I hear the shower turn on, I toss the noodles in the boiling water and run back to the room to change.

Again.

Damn, I'm running out of clean shirts. And towels. Speaking of, I grab the mess of clothes Lucas left throughout the apartment and pick up the sticky towels we used earlier before I toss them all into the washing machine. As soon as he gets out of the shower, I'll start a load so I have something to wear tomorrow.

It's bad enough I'll need to layer towels on my sheets so I can sleep tonight.

But for now, the three compression shirts I have on will keep me dry. Well, mostly dry. As long as I don't get aroused.

"It smells good, Hunt. I'll be out in two minutes. Just need to put on pants."

Fucking hell, I'm screwed.