Fuck me.
I guess there’s worse places to be trapped than on a couch with a pretty girl and a throbbing erection, but usually when I’m in this situation, we’re both consenting and conscious.
“Al,” I say, deciding the best idea is to try to spin this as a natural reaction to someone rubbing their ass against my pelvis, but there’s a better chance of her losing her shit on me.
Alondra doesn’t budge, and just as I move to pull my arm out from under her head, my phone begins blaring from where it must have fallen on the ground while we slept.Fuck, I have practice.
She tightens her grip, pressing herself further against me, causing a low moan to slip from the back of my throat.
Her entire body tenses, and she lifts her head, looking at me as my alarm continues to shatter the peace. “Jack?” Alondra whispers, her voice thick with sleep, but I’m afraid to move. “What are you still doing here?”
Then Alondra moves to sit up, and I am in agony, biting my lip to keep any more sounds from escaping, but she’s practically sitting on my lap now. It’s too dark for me to see her face, but she freezes, and embarrassment floods over me.
“Turn the fucking alarm off before I smother you with a fucking pillow, Al,” Macy threatens, scaring the shit out of me because I had no idea she was in the same room as us. This is a nightmare. I rest my hands on Alondra’s hips, trying to move her off me as she leans to grab the phone, but all I do is cause her to go flying off the couch. She yelps, hitting the floor with a thud.
“Fuck!”
“Shit, are you okay?” I ask, terrified I just hurt her when it’s the last thing I ever want to do.
“Fine,” she chokes out, tossing the phone at me, but it’s pitch black, smacking me straight in my eye.
“Motherfucker,” I swear, my hand going up to my eye, and Macy groans again.
Why didn’t she turn the alarm off before chucking it at me?
I fumble for the phone, finally silencing it when a door opens and a light flips on. At least now, my eye is the only thing throbbing. “What the hell is going on out here?” Ellie grumbles, and I blink, adjusting to the light.
Macy’s hair is a tangled disaster on her head, but the murderous glare she’s directing my way is as scary as Coach Brown’s sometimes. Wow, who would have guessed Little Miss Sunshine over there isn’t a morning person?
“Sorry, I guess I fell asleep,” I apologize, climbing off the couch, and I feel fucking awful when I see Al touching the bump on her forehead from our uncoordinated attempt to separate.
“It’s fine,” Alondra mumbles, not looking up at me.
Great. We took one step forward last night, and a thousand backward this morning.
“Jack, your eye,” Ellie says, staring at me.
My phone rings in my hand, and Macy opens her mouth, but I quickly answer it before she can threaten to smother me with a pillow. I can feel my eye starting to swell, and I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to explain it to Coach.
“Yo, are you already at the barn?” Dylan asks, and I spot my hoodie on the ground and grab it before moving for my shoes and keys by the door.
“No, I’m not there yet.”
He laughs, but I don’t find anything amusing about this. “Where the hell are you then? Morning skate starts in thirty.”
“I know,” I reply, my tone harsher than needed. “Can you grab some clothes for me, and I’ll meet you at the locker room in ten? I’m at Al’s.”
“Jack!” Al protests, and it’s too early for this. “You shouldn’t have told him you were here.”
“You got it, Capt. You should check the group chat, though,” he suggests, and I’m honestly not sure if I want to look.
Ellie is leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. “Sorry, Al, they already knew he was here. Dylan was fucking with you.” Apparently, I’ve pissed everyone off this morning. Ellie does not look happy with me, but I have to get to practice before Coach has my head. If you’re fifteen minutes early, you’re on time, and he’s a stickler when it comes to our schedule.
“It’s not a big deal. Weaccidentallyfell asleep, which makes it a platonic sleepover.” I pull my hoodie over my head, slipping into my sneakers. “Sorry,” I blurt out again, making my retreat. If I had more time before morning skate starts, I’d probably try to find the right words, but how exactly do you apologize for accidentally staying the night and then waking Al up to my dick stabbing her.
I’m out of breath by the time I arrive at the arena, having sprinted from my truck in the parking lot to make it with enough time to get dressed before we have to be on the ice.
The locker room is filled with chatter, and I duck my head, hoping to avoid questions about my eye for as long as I can, walking straight toward Dylan as he pulls his practice jersey over his pads. He bows dramatically. “Your Highness,” he mocks, causing Coop to cough from the stall next to mine.
