“About us and Abby, and the fact that she can’t have a normal family holiday because apparently the two of us can’t get our shit together.” Levi reaches for his water bottle and takes a long drink. “She said if we don’t fix things with Abby, we’re not invited to Christmas this year.”
I freeze, my towel halfway to my face. “She didn’t.”
“She did,” Levi confirms, a hint of amusement in his voice, which is infuriating. “Our sister basically told us we’re not welcome at the family Christmas if we don’t make peace with the girl who ghosted us without an explanation.”
“How are we supposed to fix something when we don’t even know what we did?” I demand, my frustration taking over. “She won’t talk to us about it, and every time I try to approach her, she looks like she wants to stab me with the nearest sharp object.”
“She kneed me in the nuts the other day, so there’s definitely some hostility there,” Levi says, a grin spreading across his face.
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” Levi insists, dropping onto the bench and stretching his legs out in front of him. “But seriously, I think Abby was jealous of Anastasia. Remember how she always said that Anastasia wanted our cocks? She was probably threatened by her, especially since Anastasia was in our orbit more than she was, and we were building our careers.”
I sit across from him, my towel draped around my neck. The weight room is mostly empty now; it’s just the two of us and a couple other guys from our team in the far corner, but they’re too focused on their own workouts to pay us any attention.
“Levi, Anastasia didn’t want—” I start, then stop myself. This isn’t the time to rehash this. We’ve been over this a thousand times in the years since it happened, and it never gets us anywhere. “Look, Abby made her choice. She cut us off, and that’s on her.”
Yet even as I say it, I don’t believe it. I remember the way Abby used to look at me, as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered apart from my brother. The way she laughed at my jokes and challenged me, the way she made me feel like I was more than a hockey player or a pretty face. But then one day, she didn’t.
“Maybe everything worked out for the best,” I say, more to convince myself. “I’ve watched other players unable to cope with long-distance relationships with their wives. Some of them burned out, and others made stupid decisions because they were lonely. Maybe it was exactly what we needed so we could focus on our careers without the distraction.”
Levi makes a noncommittal sound. “And yet, seeing her again made you feel like you’d been hit by a truck.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Levi says, standing up and stretching. “I watched you in that kitchen. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, even when she was clearly plotting your murder. And when you left, you looked like someone had ripped your chest open and stolen your heart.”
“Dramatic much?” I snap.
“I’m just saying, maybe Leila has a point. We do need to figure out what went wrong.” Levi grabs his gym bag. “I’m heading to the shower. You coming?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be there in a few minutes—I need to cool down first.”
Actually, what I need is to figure out how to spend the next few weeks in the same house as Abby without either of us ending up in prison. Or without me doing something completely stupid, like kissing her until she remembers why she fell for me in the first place.
Maybe everythingdidn’twork out for the best, and it’s all been a terrible mistake. Seeing her again has made me realize how much I missed having her in my life, even as a friend.
Once Levi returns from the shower, I quickly gather my stuff and head in while he talks to some of the guys. Once I strip down, I stand under the spray of hot water, letting it pound against my shoulders and neck, trying to wash away the frustration and confusion.
Abby’s face flashes through my mind—the anger in her eyes, the way her lips curled when she told me to get out of the kitchen, and the hurt behind it all because of me, even if I don’t fully understand why.
I’m toweling off when I hear the locker door open. It’s a shared space, so I barely glance up, but then Tate walks in shirtless. His eyes find me standing there completely naked, water still dripping down my chest, and something shifts between us.
His gaze travels down my body slowly, taking in every inch of me. His pupils dilate, and his breathing hitches. Heat curls low in my stomach at the unmistakable hardness growing in his shorts.My cock responds immediately, filling with blood. Every rational thought I’ve had about boundaries and professionalism dissolves in an instant.
I stalk toward him, completely unbothered by my nudity. He tries to back away, but there’s nowhere for him to go, and I pin him against the lockers with my arms on either side of his head.
“Do you like what you see?” I ask, my voice low and my face inches from his.
Tate flushes, and pink spreads down his neck and across his chest. “Landon, this isn’t?—”
“Isn’t what?” I interrupt, my eyes tracing the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Isn’t something you want? Because your body’s telling me a very different story, Coach.”
I lean closer, close enough to feel the warmth of him. His chest heaves, and his hands clench into fists at his sides, like he’s trying to hold himself back from touching me.
“I could pin you right here against these lockers,” I murmur, my lips barely an inch from his ear. “Fuck you until you forget your own name. Until you’re begging me for more.” I pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want that.”
He shakes his head, but his eyes beg as his hips shift forward slightly, seeking friction.
