“See you guys tomorrow.”
They had apartments in my building, all three of us owned the top floor. It gave us plenty of space, and security when we needed it. The separate apartments also allowed us our privacy when we wanted that too.
Right now, I needed it.
All the way to my SUV, however, I kept having to glance around. Cause there was a scent…
One I couldn’t quite identify, but it tantalized and teased right there at the edge of my comprehension. It was also making me crazy.
Maybe I should call someone… there were plenty of beta girls out there who wouldn’t mind a straightforward hookup. Maybe I could ease the ache in my stone hard cock, and get rid of some of this aggression.
No sooner did I get in the car than I dismissed the idea. As much as I could use the release, the idea of calling any of those women just didn’t appeal.
“Focus,” I told myself, resisting the urge to punch the steering wheel. “Focus on the playoffs.”
Maybe if I said it enough, it would work.
The next day,the agitation under my skin wasn’t any damn better. I stared at my phone for a solid minute. Her name sat at the top of my screen. Untouched.
No message typed. No call placed. Nothing but the weight of decision bearing down on my thumb like a trigger I wasn’t sure I had the right to pull.
Just check in.
That’s what I told myself. Simple. Professional. Polite.
But I knew better.
Calling her now wouldn’t be a courtesy—it would be a line crossed. One she’d never forgive if I made the wrong move.
Fuck me, that was thedamnproblem.
I don’t trust myself to make the right one anymore.
Not after dreaming about her all goddamn night. Dreaming about the half-curve of her knowing smile, the glint in her eyes when she put me in my place or even better, when she got Rhett. The husky sound of her laughter when something genuinely amused her. The razor sharpness of her tongue when she wasdispleased.
It had left me so damn hungry for her, I woke with my hand outstretched and a roar in the back of my head because she wasn’tthere. Wasn’t where she should be. Where she belonged. Except… Except that Wren Foster had never once even seen my bed much less been in it. As attractive as she was, as playful and fun as she could be, that was a firm line she had always maintained. We could flirt, she would shut us down.
End.
Of.
Story.
All of a sudden, that was just not good enough. Fuck that ending. I wanted a better one. For her. For me. For us. Iwanted…
That… that furious desire-fueled possessiveness was new. Too new. Too… consuming.
Before I could deal with that or even decide what to do with it, the locker room door cracked open and Ozzie stuck his head in. “Coach wants everybody on the ice. Ten minutes.”
I nodded. He was already gone.
Jay had disappeared down the hall right after we got here, probably headed back to suit up. Rhett was god knows where, hopefullynottalking to another reporter. And I was still here, with a phone in my hand and a choice I wasn’t ready to make.
I dropped the phone in my duffel. Slammed the zipper.
We had a job to do.
Even if the walls were cracking under the weight of it.
