Page 52 of Hockey Nanny

Her eyes went wide, realization dawning, and I watched her expression go from mild annoyance to abject mortification. She knew I knew. But just as quickly as it had flashed across her face, it was gone again.

“You say that as if it was something you’d get in on,” she said, tone teetering between accusation and incredulity.

“Not like I haven’t done it before.” Part of me expected the blush to deepen, for her to backtrack in a goody-two-shoes kind of panic.

She did neither of those things.

Carissa looked down at me, one eyebrow raised. “Haven’t done what… A threesome with your brother?”

I laughed, a single, loud burst. “Does Dawson look like the sharing type to you?”

She didn’t have to answer that. The concession on her face said it all. Still, I could see her surprise in the subtle flare of her nostrils, the quick swallow she couldn’t hide. I didn’t know if I’d been hoping for more. Approval, maybe? Interest?

The questions died when the squeak of sneakers on the tiled floor got both our attention. Dawson strode in, clearly fresh from a workout the way his tank stuck to him. He dragged the towel from his shoulder as he clocked Carissa and me on the sofa. I got a glance, but his eyes lingered on her for much longer. Something about the look stoked the hot coals in my gut.

I let out a suggestive whistle. “Seems Carissa’s making her way through the menu. Gage better watch out, or he might be sampled next.”

Dawson’s eyes snapped to me, warning in their edge, and he said, “Shut up, or I’ll make you shut up.”

“Let me.” Gage must’ve caught the tail-end of what I said, because he pushed past Dawson to grab a pillow from the other couch and promptly hurled it at my head. My reflexes lit up, and I snapped it out of the air before it made contact.

“What have I gotten myself into?” Carissa buried her face in her hands.

I poked her ribs just enough to make her flinch. “You should’ve thought of that before you seduced us.”

“Who’s ‘us’?” Gage looked from me to Dawson, putting two and two together. Then his confusion cleared. “So I’m the one stuck babysitting while you three—”

“Not three,” Carissa cut in. Cheeks on fire, but no longer hidden behind her hands. “It was never three.”

The four of us exchanged a glance, the energy spinning around the room like an invisible current. I stayed in her lap, riding out the playful equilibrium. Although I was the only one lying down, I somehow felt like the only one with the advantage in this dynamic. Having my head nestled this close to Carissa’s crotch meant I knew something the others didn’t. Something along the lines of the lady protesting too much.

By scent alone, I picked up on her instant arousal the moment I’d mentioned a threesome. Arousal which grew more pronounced when Dawson entered the chat, all sweaty in his gym clothes.

I was sure that if I were to slide my hand over there, I’d find her shorts warm and damp.

The thought caused heat to pool low in my gut, and it was that second Henry decided to pop up.

Barefoot, in shorts and a tank in the same color as the one Dawson wore, he barely registered us. With a chilled glass of lemonade pressed to his forehead, he went straight to Carissa.

“It’s too hot today. I’m dying.”

I shot upright, my grin spreading wide. “I have an idea.”

“Why’s that look on your face making me uncomfortable right now?” Dawson tossed his towel over the back of the sofa.

“You may want to hold onto that, bro,” I said, getting up. “I think it’s time we introduce Carissa to the pool.”

We entered the pool area from the south wing. Henry didn’t waste a second. He broke into a run, ripped his tank top off without breaking his stride, and cannonballed straight into the deep end, water erupting high enough to splash the glass doors behind us. His laugh echoed off the surrounding walls, contained but loud, the sound bouncing back at him from every side of the house.

Carissa stopped just short of the deck, taking it in. The pool sat dead center, the mansion wrapped around it in a perfect square, every wing feeding into the same open-air space. Light poured down unobstructed, the pale stone reflecting it back up so everything felt bright and exposed. No backyard vibes. This was the middle of the house, designed to be lived in.

“I should change,” she said, already glancing down at her clothes.

I hooked a thumb toward the opposite side of the pool where a row of doors sat recessed into the wall. “Showers and stalls are over there. You’ll find your pick of swimsuits. Dawson’s got a thing about being prepared.”

Her mouth tipped into a disbelieving smile as she headed that way, sandals slapping softly against the deck as she passed the outdoor showers, tiled and partially screened, water still clinging to the drains from earlier use.

Dawson was already pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it onto one of the low tables near the edge. I followed suit, kicking off my shoes and stripping down to my shorts, the heat hitting full force once there was nothing between my skin and the sun. The pool steps ran wide along one side, water lappinggently against the stone, shallow enough for Henry to climb out without help if he wanted to.