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I tell him to make me whatever he thinks I’d like, and he goes to work—only minorly spilling the liquids. I get distracted when he spills the tequila across his hand, because it makes him giggle before he licks the side of his hand and sticks his thumb in his mouth to suck it off.

My entire body flushes with heat and I discreetly cross my legs.

Whatever strange fruity cocktail he’s made, it’s delicious and I can barely taste the alcohol. “It’s not much,” he promises. “I know you don’t like to feel out of control.”

Another burst of warmth from my chest, affection swirling because I didn’t have to explain it. He understood. He read me like his favorite poetry book, as he always has.

We stay in the kitchen, sipping on my drink together. I spend most of my energy trying to stay upright with Bennett Reiner whispering filthy words into my ear. It feels so good I want to freeze time.

Us. Here. Young and goofy and in love.

“Stay here for me?” he asks, leaning me against the bar top. “I just need to pee.”

A blush takes over his face, head shaking as his hands come up to cover his eyes. “Why did I say that?”

I laugh, full and open as his hat topples off his head—though I catch it easily and slip it onto my own voluptuous curls, spinning it backward. I feel like I’m flying while flirting with him in the dingy light of the Hockey Dorms kitchen.

“Need me to come with?”

“No—if I get you into a room alone right now, P . . .” His voice rumbles off as he crowds into my space, dipping his head to kiss my cheek, my jaw, my neck. “Just stay here. Don’t move.”

He steps away, mussing his curls with one hand as he hangs on to the doorframe with the other. In his absence, another massive shadow appears—Toren Kane in his usual all-black fit, tattoos fully on display.

“Blake,” he nods.

“Kane,” I say, hip checking him as he settles next to me at the bar. He smiles but tries to hide it with a sip from a bottle of beer, not his usual alcoholic beverage. His rings click against the glass.

Music thrums in the silence between me and my substitute shadow. Someone yells loud enough to draw my attention toward the shots table—where my little roommate has become the center of attention, whether she realizes it or not.

Lily grabs for Holden’s hair, jerking his head back a little roughly where he kneels patiently for her to even reach him. Toren straightens, shoulders tight, jaw locked.

“Stay still,” Lily’s bell-like voice rings out. Holden nods excitedly, eyes wide on her as she tilts the bottle to pour into his mouth for a long pull. He swallows, gasping for air with a rough pant as Lily pulls her hand away from his hair.

I watch Toren for a long time, though his eyes never leave the odd couple in front of him.

“Feel sick yet?” I ask.

His jaw somehow locks further, eyes flaming gold as he darts them toward me. My smirk is uncontainable—but before I can say anything else, a stumbling six-foot-six handsome man makes a reappearance.

“Blake—”

“Sorry, I gotta go,” I say sarcastically with a laugh tossed over my shoulder. I point my thumb toward Bennett. “That’s my ride.”

Chapter 69

NOW

Bennett

“Hate to say it like this, but you’re glowing,” Freddy says, clapping me on the back.

Toren laughs and shakes his head. “He’s not a fucking pregnant woman, Fredderic.”

Freddy frowns up at the defenseman like he might want to start something, but Holden shoves in between them to settle against the kitchen bar we’re all standing around.

“You gonna kiss him again?” Freddy asks, eyeing Holden’s shoulder pressing into Toren’s bicep where he’s squished into the group.

At Ro’s birthday party in February, apparently they’d played spin the bottle, which resulted in a kiss between the defensive pair.