Quinn hadn’t needed to know that, and judging by the scowl on Harrison Killinger’s gorgeous face, he wasn’t happy to hear it either.
“I couldn’t imagine sucking dick on a dirty bathroom floor,” said Haas, the curly, red-haired goalie sitting beside Niko. The guy was covered in a startling number of freckles, and he had a unicorn sticker stuck to his cheek, leaving Quinn with many questions that would likely go unanswered. “I’m as ace as it gets, so my comment is irrelevant anyway. But keep talking about all the hidden relationships because I’m new and I don’t have all the tea yet.”
Niko ruffled Nollan’s red curls. “Why, so you can write us into one of your songs? Hard pass.”
“Goalies are fucking weird,” several of the guys muttered as Nollan and Niko started bickering and smacking each other like they were kids.
“Sauce got an invite to the All-Star game because he’s an odd duck, even for a goalie,” said August over the commotion. “They keep micing him up during games, and the social media team has been posting his insanity all over the internet, and now everyone loves him.”
Harrison huffed and rubbed his face. “And he’s a damn good goalie. He’s top five now, you ignoramus.”
“And he’s hot,” said Jinn between bites of his pizza. “Feel free to cuddle with me in bed tonight, Sauce. I’ll keep you warm.”
The battle between Niko and Nollan stopped, and Quinn could sense something more than irritation brewing behind Niko’s dark eyes.
“And,” said Niko, pausing for emphasis. “Sauce is ace, Park. Keep your hands off my fucking goalie.”
Jett picked the worst possible time to swallow his pasta, and some of it came out of his nose when he inhaled too quickly. Everyone groaned in collective horror. Quinn had tears in his eyes from laughing, but he still got up to help Jett pull the noodles free and fetch paper towel from the kitchen.
“Dude—” Jett stopped to cough, and Harrison smacked him on the back to keep him breathing. “You are the nicest person ever. I’m sorry for being gross.”
Okay, now Quinn understood why Jett was called the NHL’s golden boy. He truly was a sweetheart behind the fuck boy exterior.
“No need to apologize,” said Quinn. He ruffled Jett’s curls before returning to his spot beside August. “Everyone panicked, and I handled it.”
He didn’t want to point out that he had been dealing with August’s nosebleeds, which were arguably worse than pasta, but maybe it was just him.
“I can’t believe Gusty got a man before me,” said Jin, interrupting Jett before he could speak. “He’s so broody and serious all the time.”
Jett smacked the Korean man on the arm. “They’re not together yet! Gusty still needs to man up and make his move. Let him cook.”
“Cook what?” said Wolf. “He will brew love potion or something? Is this how Canadians do things?”
Max buried his face into his sketchbook to laugh, and Bash pulled off his cap to do the same.
“I’m sorry about Jett and Jin,” said Harrison, who was turning red the more his husband continued to talk about cooking and English slang. “They have no filter, and one shared brain cell that sometimes gets lost in transportation.”
“I don’t mind,” said Quinn, and he didn’t. He was having fun, and no one was being serious enough to make things awkward. He could handle light teasing as long as August got the brunt of it.
Which was exactly what happened because despite the group being August’s friends, they were more respectful toward Quinn, but held nothing back when the attention turned on August.
Were they loud? Yes.
Did they talk about hockey a lot? Yes.
Did Quinn adore them? Also, yes.
He was in such a good mood by the time they had to leave—or risk staying up all night and messing with several hockey routines—that Quinn didn’t realize he had followed August to his hotel room until he collapsed onto the bed.
The moment of clarity struck when August groaned beside him and sat up to turn off the lamp, sending the room into darkness.
“Fuck, what a day,” August mumbled, sounding like he was already asleep. “Wanna get breakfast tomorrow?”
But Quinn didn’t have time to answer because August drifted off, his quiet snores filling the empty silence.
How he could sleep through the pounding of Quinn’s heart was unbelievable. Quinn was fairly convinced Eren could hear it from the top-floor suite, given how damn loud it was. Becauseholy shit—he was in bed with August Snow.
And they weren’t having sex.
