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“Stretch then shower?” she asked me.

“Was that an invitation?” Boone teased, and I gnashed my teeth.

Logan barked out a laugh, turning away to begin stretching without answering his question. Coach Cross emerged from his office, surveying the weight room.

“It’s nice to see such dedication to your training during the off-season,” Coach said. “Refreshing.”

Logan rolled her lips between her teeth, clearly biting back a smile. “Coach. Good to see you.” She stood and shook his hand.

“You too. We’re glad to have you here,” Coach said. “The team is certainly enjoying your workouts.”

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure they might hate me by the end of the off-season.”

“They might,” he admitted. “If they survive.”

They talked a minute longer before Coach excused himself. Logan finished stretching then went to fill her water. By then, most of the guys were gone, the locker room empty apart from a few of us.

I gathered my things, watching her from the corner of my eye as she made her way through the weight room. Logan typically showered in the guest facilities so she could have more privacy. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.

KT: Meet me in the guest locker room in five.

Fuck me. I stared at my phone, rereading the message. I’d once joked about having a quickie in the locker room, but I didn’t think she’d ever take me up on it. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who liked to push boundaries. Though I already knew that.

I would’ve been happy even if we’d only ever stayed in my bedroom. It wasn’t the location that made it hot, though it was fun to experiment. It was the fact that Logan trusted me, that she wanted to experience new things together.

I pocketed my phone before padding down the hall to grab my stuff. Our facilities had been refurbished last year, and no expense had been spared. I’d seen my fair share of locker rooms during my career, and the Hawks had one of the best in the league.

Each stall had built-in fans and internal vents to pull moisture from heavy shoulder pads, gloves, and skates. The recovery suites had state-of-the-art equipment—everything from infrared saunas to cold plunge pools. But the showers might be my favorite because it felt as if you were at a high-end spa. There was a section of semi-private showers as well as a few private ones with opaque doors that went from my head to my ankles.

Fortunately, the guest facilities were almost as nice as the home ones. I slung my bag over my shoulder and snuck out of the home locker room and into the visitor one.

“Lo?” I whispered.

A door swung open, and I grinned at her as I stepped into one of the private stalls. She flipped the lock, and I switched on the water before pulling her to me for a kiss.

My heart was pounding, my dick already hard. We could be caught at any moment, and that only made this even more thrilling. Yes, the door was locked, but if anyone saw two pairs of feet, they’d definitely have some questions.

I yanked off her shirt, getting annoyed with her sports bra. She tasted like salt and sweetness, and I couldn’t get enough of her. She tugged on my T-shirt, and I pulled it over my head. It was a race to see who could get the other naked first. I plucked at her leggings, and off they went, added to the pile of dirty clothes, along with her underwear.

My cock twitched at the sight of her—cheeks flushed, hair curling at her temples. I reached out to touch her, partly to reassure myself this was real. She was real.

How is she so perfect for me?

She placed her hands on my chest, pushing me toward the water. My self-control was hanging on by a thread, had been hanging on by a thread ever since she’d walked out in those fucking pants.

I crashed my mouth against hers, both of us fighting for dominance. I nearly groaned aloud, but she nipped at my bottom lip then drew back, shaking her head. We both knew we had to be quiet, especially since our voices would echo off the tile walls. The running water would help dampen the sound, but not by much.

She palmed my cock, giving it a few lazy strokes. I closed my eyes, letting my head rest against the tile. Fuck. Yes. This might be my new favorite post-workout ritual.

At least until someone shuffled into the bathroom, whistling. Logan and I froze, eyes wide.

The fuck? Everyone else usually showered in the home locker room. No one should be in here right now, and it pissed me off that someone dared to encroach on her space.

“Kovi?” Boone’s voice echoed off the tile walls.

In a moment of panic, I pressed on Logan’s shoulder so she would duck out of sight. I glanced down to find her mouth level with my cock, a smirk on her lips.

“Boone?” I cleared my throat. “What are you doing in here?”