“I do not!” Atlas frowns.
“You do.” Grey ruffles his black hair, laughing as he slaps his hand away. “Almost forgot about the night thrashing.”
“Screw you.”
“I’m just saying. Felix sleeps like the dead.” My attention snaps to Grey. His eyes widen with the admission and Atlas’s narrow on me. We stand there for a silent moment until Atlas breaks it, looking between the two of us.
“When would he have been in your bed?” Atlas looks at me.
“We fell asleep the other night watching the Yetis game,” I say.
Atlas looks at Grey. “You watched their game and not ours?”
“I’ve watched a few of your games. In fact, I texted you after the Pride one and you never wrote me back. Left me onread, you dick.” Grey sighs. “It’s early. Are we already starting?” Atlas rolls his eyes.
“You better come to our playoff games,” Atlas says. “Please?”
Grey looks down at the floor. “Against the Vipers probably, huh?”
Atlas sighs. “We’re going to play them most likely. I don’t see the Reapers pulling one over on them tonight. Then we play them. We’ll kick their ass. Might lose out on our winning streak, but we’re going all the way.” Atlas smiles. “We haven’t made it this far in quite a while.”
“Have the Otters won the tournament? Is it a tournament?” I catch Atlas’s eye roll as Grey looks to me.
“It’s the Stanley Cup, and the Otters won when I was nineteen and twenty-three, then we hit a bit of a drought. We went through a rough period. Bad management. Mismanaged salary caps. Players who weren’t really into it.”
“Then Oli came.” Atlas smiles.
Grey nods. “We had a bit of a rebuild, and now we usually get to the first or second bracket before being eliminated.”
“How long have you been playing?” I ask Atlas.
“Two years in the big leagues.”
“He’s a baby.” Grey ruffles his hair. Atlas swats his hand away.
“I’m twenty-four! I’m not a baby.” He points to Grey. “All I know is your ass better be there in person to watch us play.”
Grey nods then looks at me. “You’re coming with me, right? I’ll need some help with the stairs anyway. We can sit in the box.”
“In public?”
Grey catches my meaning. “If you want.”
I do. No matter what the risk, I do. I can’t let Steven control me anymore. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
Grey grins. “You can wear my Pride jersey.” He sets his mug down. “I promised Atlas I’d wear his.”
Atlas smiles. “That’s right.” Atlas eyes Grey and I don’t know... it’s different than the way Oli and Andre interact with him. Maybe I’m seeing things. Maybe they have a history. Or it’s Grey’s history of being used. Maybe that’s it. Atlas is just protective of him. Maybe he thinks I’m using him too.
I’ll show him he’s wrong. I didn’t even know who he was before I came here, and the last thing I’d want is to take advantage of him. I put the bacon in the frying pan as Atlas takes a seat, and Grey’s hand subtly touches my lower back as he leans in to look at the food I’m making. “Looks good.” His warm breath caresses my ear, and it takes everything in me not to lean into it. “The food looks great also.”
His words warm my belly. “Almost done.” I look back, and his mouth is so close to mine. If Atlas wasn’t here, I’d lean into him. Need. So much need. It’s foreign and I feel like I’m floating.
Grey releases me to sit with Atlas. “Don’t forget you have PT tomorrow morning,” I say, and Grey groans.
“That bad?” Atlas asks.
Grey nods, taking a sip of his coffee. “I feel dead after. I’m in so much pain.”
