Chapter 1
Nick
Someone’s hand is on my dick.
I peel one eye open and stifle a yawn, relieved to see the pretty brunette sleeping next to me.
Slowly, I reach my arm up and stretch, groaning softly as I try to remember her name. It’s something unique. Like, Aspen or Ainsley. Maybe Addison?
Oddly enough, this isn’t the first time I’ve woken up with a stranger’s hand around my cock.
I think back to last season when my teammates and I went out to celebrate after beating Boston State at the College Winter Classic for men’s hockey. I drank my weight in tequila, blacked out, and woke up on the floor of my hotel bathroom with Boston State mascot’s giant fuzzy hand around my cock.
So this is definitely a step up from that.
I yawn, my brain slowly crawling out of the sleep-fog. That’s when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn and see a cute redhead stirring in her sleep, lying behind me.
Oh, damn.
That’s when I realize that I’m sleeping on the pull-out couch in the living room and not my bed.
As quietly as I can, I sit up and glance at the two women on either side of me. Memories of last night’s house party replay like a slow-moving highlight reel.
It was my twenty-first birthday, so my housemates threw me a huge party. I remember taking shots of vodka in the kitchen with the two ladies while laughing and joking around, then moving to the couch in the living room to play truth or dare, which led to us making out, which led to us shedding our clothes and getting wild in front of the entire house party…
I scrub a hand on my stubbled cheek and chuckle softly to myself. Damn indeed.
Yeah, I know how this looks. Like some kind of deviant sex fest. It’s not that deep, though.
I’m just a guy who likes to have a good time. And when you’re the star center and captain of your college hockey team, like I am, it’s easy to have a good time.
Especially when you share a house with three of your teammates who are cool with letting loose and having fun. We’ve hosted countless parties in the year that we’ve lived together. They always get wild.
“Dude, what the hell?”
I look up and see Travis Maxton, my best friend, teammate, and roommate, standing at the bottom of the stairs, frowning at me.
I press my index finger to my lips, shushing him. As quietly as I can, I move away from between the two still-sleeping ladies and slide off the couch bed.
He groans and looks away from me. “Dude, I don’t wanna see your dick. Cover up.”
I hold back a laugh as I step around a cluster of empty beer cans. I spot what I think are my sweatpants on the floor. I pull them on.
“You’re just jealous of my massive size, Travvie.”
He rolls his eyes, annoyed. He sets his gear bag on the ground, careful not to make noise. “Why aren’t you dressed for practice?”
I grin and glance back at the sleeping ladies. “I was busy entertaining my guests.”
He huffs out a heavy sigh and shakes his head, like he’s never been more irritated.
You’d never guess that Travis and I are best friends based on half of our interactions. Most of the time, he’s rolling his eyes at whatever dumbass thing I’ve done or said.
But that’s our dynamic. I’m the jokester. He’s the serious one.
It’s been like this ever since middle school, when we played on the same hockey team and became friends. I get on his nerves. We give each other shit.
But we’re also there for each other, no matter what. When I injured my shoulder sophomore year of high school and needed surgery to fix it, he visited me every day at the hospital and studied with me when I had to miss school so I wouldn’t fall behind.
