I tip my head slightly, teasing. “You planning on staking your claim right now, Brooks?”
His grin goes wicked. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“If you think you could still skate straight if I did.”
A laugh slips out of me—quiet and a little breathless. “Is that a challenge?”
He shrugs one shoulder, all that easy, infuriating confidence wrapped up in a single movement. “You tell me, Captain.”
I take a step closer, closing the space between us until there’s nothing left but heat and possibility. “Pretty cocky for someone who was whining about cuddles two nights ago.”
“Was not,” he says, but his voice dips low, his mouth so close I can feel the words against my lips. “I was purring. There’s a difference.”
I snort. “You’re an idiot.”
He smirks. “I’m pretty sure you like it.”
Before I can reply, his hand slides to the back of my neck, and he kisses me—slow and confident, as if he’s got all the time in the world to prove his point.
I melt into it without hesitation, lips parting under his, my fingers fisting in the front of his hoodie as I pull him closer. There’s nothing frantic about it, nothing rushed. Just him and us. The kind of kiss that sinks into your skin and stays there.
But then?—
Knock knock knock.
We freeze.
A muffled voice filters through the door. “Time to head to the rink. Let’s go, boys.”
Logan groans against my mouth. “Terrible timing.”
I grin and step back, breathing a little uneven. “You’ll live.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You sure? ‘Cause I was definitely about to die happy.”
I shake my head, still smiling as I step away from him. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s go win a game.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up. “Romeo, huh?”
I roll my eyes and nudge his shoe with my foot on my way past it. “You probably should have left your shoes on.”
He hums. “I thought I had more time. And they are going to have to wait for me, because if I go out into that hallway right now, everyone will know how hard you make me.” He palms himself as he settles on the edge of the bed, and I wish we had time to take care of that.
I drag my eyes down to where his hand presses between his thighs, and yeah—fuck. I want to drop to my knees right here and make him forget there’s a team waiting downstairs. Make him miss the bus. Miss the damn game.
But I force myself to keep moving.
“Guess you’ll just have to suffer,” I say.
Logan tilts his head, eyes dark and amused. “You saying I can’t control myself?”
“I’m saying I don’t think youwantto.”
His laugh is low and wicked. “Not even a little.”
I pause in the doorway. “Five minutes. Tops. Then you better be downstairs.”
