“Great idea.” Camden smiles warmly at me. Then he fixes his focus on Logan. “Will you come with us?”
“Ha. As if I’d ever leave you two alone any longer than I had to.”
“Afraid of a little competition?” Camden angles in and quirks an eyebrow.
Logan lifts a shoulder in an easy shrug. “Nope, because there is no competition. And it’s not our call to make anyway. If Yana wants us both, she wants us both. And I, for one, am okay with that.”
“Works for me.” Camden gives my knee another gentle squeeze. “What about your family? Any holiday traditions?”
“Yeah, other than the Olivier salad?” Logan drags his fingers in circles over my skin.
The fire their touches have ignited within me grows stronger. It heats my skin and makes my center throb.
When Camden notices the way I’m clenching my legs together, he gives me a smug smile.
Cheeky asshole.
“Well.” I clear my throat. “We used to decorate the tree on December 24th. Mom says that it creates a magical atmosphere and helps to prepare for the New Year. It adds to the experience. Dad always hid candies between the branches. It drove Mom nuts. We don’t do the whole stocking thing, and we don’t have any elves on shelves. This one confused the hell out of me the first time I heard about it, but I think I kind of get it now. We do have a Ded Moroz—he’s like our version of Santa Claus. And we typically wake up on January 1st and open gifts.”
“Does your family eat anything else as incredible as the Olivier salad?” Logan asks, bringing his glass to his lips.
“Mashed potatoes, bread with caviar, homemade pickles, along with two or three salads my mom makes. But the best part has always been my granny’s Napoleon cake. It’s literally the most delicious dessert I’ve ever had. No matter what I eat or where I eat it, her cake will always be the food I love the most.”
“Nice.” Logan smiles. “I hope one day I can try all that too.”
“Same,” Camden chimes in.
The adoration in their expressions causes heat to creep into my cheeks. And as weird as it sounds, making plans, the three of us, feels absurdly normal. It feels right. Like I belong with these two men who I’ve only known for a couple of days. Like this is exactly how it should be.
After we’ve cleaned up and the dishes are done, I lie on the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace with Logan on my right side and Camden on my left, talking about anything and everything—practices, tournaments, countries we’ve visited.
Until Logan turns and props his head on his knuckles, his focus on me suddenly intense.
“What?” I ask, my pulse skyrocketing.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
Camden mirrors Logan, peering down at me. “And what are we going to do once we leave?”
I bite my bottom lip and consider what I want and how this could work, but I’m being put on the spot. I’ve been living in the moment, not worrying about the future. Not yet. So I say, “I don’t want to choose. I like you both, a lot. If you think we can make this work, I’d be more than willing to try.”
While they assess each other, quietly communicating, I wait, nervous and excited at the same time.
“Like I said this morning,” Logan murmurs, “if I’m going to share her, it’d only be with you. We make a great team, on and off the ice, and I have a feeling it’ll be even better in bed with this gorgeous woman between us.”
Camden chews on his bottom lip, hesitation in his eyes.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I clench my jaw tight. It will hurt a shit ton if he says?—
A low rumble of laughter escapes him, leaving me stunned. What the hell?
“I see the fear in your eyes, Red. Did you really think I’d say no?” Cam looks from me to Logan and back again. “I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you. It doesn’t matter if I’m sharing you with my best friend or fucking you in the back seat of your car. I want you, and I don’t want you to have to choose. Or maybe…” He hovers closer, his hair falling over his forehead. “I want you to choose us both.”
“Always,” I whisper.
“Then you’re ours now.” He places his lips on mine, kissing me softly. “Only ours.”
