Player by E. Cleveland

Player.
I will never call him that.
It doesn’t matter if he’s one of the youngest team captains in college hockey. Or that he’s a legend on skates.
And, yeah, I know it’s a double entendre. I’m well aware of his reputation for hooking up with half the girls at Westbury. I’ve had a front row seat to the bunny parade.
Still, I won’t call him Player. That’s not who he is to me. That’s never who he’s been to me. He’s Noah Foster. My best friend. The boy I grew up with. The guy who knows me better than anyone.
Well, except there is one secret I’ve never told him. I haven’t exactly been open with him about how I’m a 21-year-old, card carrying member of the V-card-club.
But, when Noah needs me to tutor him for his exam, I get an idea. What if I teach him a little science, and the Player teaches me how to play?