Page 36 of Three Hockey Hotties

“That’s not going to impress, Abby. It’s just going to burn a hole in your esophagus."

I’m fearfully watching Kane for some kind of reaction or hell, maybe a spontaneous combustion. “I don’t know. I’m kind of impressed, I have to say.”

“Ha!” Kane tells Benjamin.

Benjamin rolls his eyes.

Dash is silently watching them. He’s destroyed six tortillas stuffed with fajita meat and vegetables plus a side of black beans.

“Do you have a game tomorrow?” I ask, realizing I have zero knowledge of the Mutts schedule. “I don’t want to distract you.”

“Too late for that,” Dash says, leaning over from his stool next to me to flick the ends of my hair upward with his fingertips.

“You are very distracting in the best way, Lollipop,” Kane adds. “But no game tomorrow. Just practice. We can give you a ride to the arena since you’re meeting your work team.”

I’ve eaten more than I normally do, and I finished my glass of wine.

It’s hard to remember how this day started versus how it’s ending.

I’m spending the night here, in this beautiful house, being waited on like a princess.

Then tomorrow they will drive me to the arena and back to reality.

That’s more than enough, I tell myself as Benjamin suggests we watch a movie. Three best friends—and brothers—are not going to decide to date you.

And even if they did, there is no way I could possibly choose between them.

No way at all.

CHAPTER 8

BENJAMIN

I have absolutely no idea what this movie is about.

But neither do the other three people I’m watching it with. One of them has a good excuse. She fell asleep about thirty minutes in.

The other two have a good excuse too, I suppose. If she was sitting on the couch right next to me, then leaning against me, then eventually lying with her head in my lap when she fell asleep, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the movie either.

Then again, I’m sitting in an armchair, perpendicular to the couch where Dash and Kane have Abby snuggled between them, and I can’t concentrate even from here.

I swear the room is filled with the scent of strawberries and cream, and all I want to do is taste her from head to toe.

Of course I won’t do that. She doesn’t know us. She just had a very trying night. She’s a guest in our house. And I have no idea how she feels about us. Me in particular.

I am smart enough to know that she’s here, staying with us for two reasons: she feels comfortable and safe with Kane and Dash, and two, she recognizes that I like to get my way.

I’m thrilled that she’s here.

I would’ve had a hard time sleeping tonight after meeting her anyway. I have a feeling she would’ve been on my mind no matter what.

Even if we had dropped her off at the nicest apartment complex in the city, I would’ve been thinking of her, but I could tell from the outside of the building that we were not leaving her in a highly secure, luxury apartment.

That was already bugging me. I want this woman to have the best of everything. It is the strangest urge I have ever felt in my life. We barely know her. Still, I feel this undeniable urge to take care of her and not just that, but to spoil her, to surround her in extravagance, to give her things beyond her wildest dreams.

My two best friends are definitely two ways to spoil her.

While I am jealous of Dash and Kane sitting right next to her, feeling her body heat, smelling her scent even more strongly, and feeling like they are right there, protecting and comforting her, I also love watching the three of them.