“Oh shit…” Wolfe grits his teeth guiltily.
Cox starts laughing. “Blame the trainers. They said these two were water!”
“I need a fucking shower.” Hawke starts pulling stuff out of his pockets.
“Need help?” Cox asks.
“Don’t even fucking start here.” But Hawke is smiling.
“Let’s leave them to it.” I slip my hand in Wolfe’s.
Slowly, we change so we can go out. We’re in Vegas after all.
“Apologize to Ktytor for me. I feel a little bad.” Not really, but he’s going to have a shit night.
“I’m not apologizing! He didn’t when they won conference,” Seaborn scoffs. “I may have to apologize for the bruises Wolfe gave him, though.” He laughs. “You put him on his ass.”
“He shouldn’t have hit Archangel so hard.” Wolfe shrugs, clearly not sorry at all. “Fucker’s had it coming all season.”
“I know he has.” At least Seaborn knows who he’s with, but now more than ever, I want to see their dynamic together because on the ice, they are fucking mean to each other.
“We’re going on a double date during the break.”
“We’re not…coming out,” Seaborn says carefully. “I’m happy for your guys but?—”
I wave him off. “I don’t care. You two don’t have to act like it or we can do something private, but I want to get to know him.”
Seaborn was our other best friend, after all. I wasn’t going to let whatever teams he and Wolfe ended up on change that.
“I think I can convince him. He’s coming home with me until the draft.” Seaborn really looks happy, and with everything going on with his dad, he deserves it.
“He coming out with us?”
Seaborn shoots me a look. “No shot. But if I’m lucky, he’ll still be awake when I get back to the hotel.”
Wolfe turns on me. “So much better to be on the same team so we can celebrate together.”
“Rub it in, asshole. You two better not get mad when I don’t stay out all night.”
Wolfe flicks his attention over to Seaborn for a moment before back to me, and he’s hungry. “I haven’t fucked my boyfriend in two weeks.”
“Don’t start, or we won’t be going out.”
He grabs my face, kissing me—absolutely starting something. “What shouldn’t I start, boyfriend?”
“You know.” I tilt my head back, parting my lips.
He dips his tongue into my mouth, letting me taste him. “Come shower with me.”
“We can’t here.”
“You can be quiet. Can’t you?”
FORTY-SEVEN
WOLFE
It doesn’t take much to drag him into the shower. It was pretty empty, most of the guys having finished while we drenched Coach and talked, all of them in a hurry to get out, get drinks, and get laid—the team’s favorite way to celebrate.
