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He palms the back of my head and starts massaging my scalp, and I don’t want to enjoy it, but Maddox was always good at that. “Fine. But do the two of you really need that much space?”
“I think Killer is gonna move in with us. He’s gotta get out of Cade and Scarlet’s place before he loses his shit.”
“Killer?” Bellamy questions.
“Yeah. Brynn’s brother Killian. He’s a year older than me,” Caitlin tells her. “I thought Maverick said he wanted to move in if you ended up with the bigger place.”
I turn, and daggers might as well be shooting from my eyes. “You knew?”
“Don’t kill the messenger. I just heard a rumor,” Cait snaps back.
“Maverick’s living in the hockey house with Leo and Hendrix. I doubt he’s leaving until he graduates,” Nixon argues as he brings paper plates over to the coffee table and starts pulling the food out of the bags. He plates a cheeseburger deluxe with white cheddar cheese and a side of truffle fries and hands them to me. “Brynn texted and told us you might want to eat your feelings tonight.”
Callen hands me an ice-cold sweet tea with a kiss-assy smile. “Evie can’t make it. She’s got a baby doctor appointment, and Lindy said the baby is puking his guts up. So it looks like you’re stuck with us tonight.”
I begrudgingly take my favorite drink from his hand and look around the room. My eyes briefly linger on Ares, whose stare is comforting and disconcerting all at once.
“Thanks, guys.” I take a big bite of the greasy goodness and watch as everyone makes themselves at home, like they’ve always done in our condo. Guess it doesn’t really matter which one it is.
“So this Killian... is he hot?” Bellamy asks, and I choke on a fry.
“He’s gorgeous,” I tell her and watch Ares glare tighten. “He looks just like his dad.”
My smile might be a little evil. But come on. It’s been a shit day, and after last night, I wouldn’t hate being punished again.
ARES
Ithought my days of sneaking in and out of my bedroom ended when I left for the minors at eighteen. Back then, the thrill of not getting caught was half the damn fun back then. But after a few weeks of sneaking out of Grace’s bed at the ass crack of dawn, so none of our roommates realize what we’re doing, I’m over this shit.
I lean over Grace’s naked body and brush a kiss over her cheek. “I’m going back to my place, baby.”
She hums a happy sound and sinks her face into my pillow. And okay. Knowing she does that every time I leave eases the sting a little. But not enough. I walk as quietly as possible out into the girl’s living room, then stop dead in my tracks.
“Oh shit.” I close my eyes and turn away as fast as possible because Brynn is straddling some dude on the couch. Naked. I don’t catch him. But sure as shit, it’s Brynn. “Sorry. Just leaving.”
“Get out,” she yells, and I blindly walk toward the door with my hand stuck out in front of my face, so I don’t kill myself in the process. Holy fucking shit. I’ve never been so goddamned glad to walk out of a door before.
I pull it shut behind me, then lean back and laugh.
Yeah... Gracie and I are gonna have to talk about this shit now. Because until about sixty seconds ago, she and Brynlee had adon’t ask, don’t tellkind of agreement happening. Brynn didn’t want to be put in the middle of anything. So she played dumb, and in return, Grace didn’t ask her about her mystery man. Grace’s words. Not mine. It’s worked for them for the last month and a half, but I’m pretty sure that just blew up in her face.
I just want to go the hell back to bed and catch a few hours of sleep before Nixon and I have to meet Cross and Easton for the practice session we’ve got planned for tomorrow. Training camp starts the third week in September, so we still have about a month left before official practices start. But over the next few weeks, the guys will slowly start filtering back into town, and a lot of them will join the practice session with us. It’s the assholes who don’t bother that we’ve got to worry about.
I let myself into my condo and lock my front door before I walk into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
“What the fuck?”Seriously.
What’s with everyone being where they don’t belong at four o’clock in the fucking morning today? “Why are you awake, B?” I ask my sister.
“Mommy called,” she tells me from where she sits at my kitchen table, and I stop and grab the back of a chair.
My mind starts spinning worst-case scenarios. “Is everything okay? What happened?”
“Nobody calls in the middle of the night with good news, Ares. Daddy felt funny. He was having a hard time breathing. So they took him to the hospital.”
I start to cut in, but she stops me with a look. “He’s fine. They did some scans. One of his stents needs to be replaced. They’re doing it tomorrow. He’ll be home the same day. But some guy in the ER recognized Dad. He knew he was the Wilder brothers’ dad. Guess the media Mom and Dad got during the Stanley Cupfinals really stuck. Anyway, she talked to Cross and was trying to get you. When she couldn’t get you, she called me. She didn’t want any of us to hear something on the news, if the guy went to the tabloids, and think it was worse than it actually is.”
She pulls my phone from the pocket of the long sweater she has thrown over her pajamas. “Next time you sneak off to fuck Grace Sinclair, take your fucking phone.”
