Page 13 of Play Dirty

Another peal of laughter floated in, followed by more steam. For a moment I considered retreating. Just grabbing a second water, and heading back to my room.

Fuck that.

Resolute, I continued on down the hallway. A door blocked me. I pushed it open.

Cold air rushed over me first, then a wave of heat. I paused, confused at the contrast. Then I stepped onto the back landing.

There was a structure attached crudely to the back of the house. It was completely unoriginal, made up of rough wood and slatted boards. It was box-shaped, and not very large. Almost like a shed, tacked onto the house.

Then I saw steam rolling out in waves, from the slightly opened door.

The voices inside grew louder. I took two steps closer, peering in the direction of the opening.

Cedar. That was the first thing I registered. The inside was lined with it; warm-toned wood, reddish brown, stained darker in places where things had soaked in over time. Two benches ran along the sides, and also the back wall. The inside shimmered faintly with heat.

Ares sat closest to the door, shirt off, wrapped from the waist down in a white towel. He had his elbows braced on his knees. Sweat ran down his broad back, making the powerful muscles there glisten.

Grayson was in the center, leaning against the back wall. He had his eyes closed, and a smile still on his face from laughing at whatever Zack — sitting beside him — was talking about. His friend was gesturing with his hand, tracing something in the air. I couldn’t catch what he was saying, though.

A sauna.

For some reason the place made them look wholly different than back at the rink. They were much more in their element here. Relaxed, in a place that was all theirs.

I took one last step forward, trying to get a better look—

A body moved. Fast. It blocked the entryway completely.

When I looked up again, Ares was there. His glistening body filled my entire field of view.

“Player only,” he said.

His words were flat, but not aggressive. That was worse, I think. Aggressive I could understand.

I held his gaze for a moment. Maybe it was the heat rolling off his exposed skin, but his eyes seemed to blaze with an inner fire.

“You… use this for recovery?” I asked.

He didn’t move. He only stood there.

“Player only,” he repeated.

Somewhere behind him, one of the others snorted. I stepped back.

“Right.”

Ares didn’t move until I’d retreated back into the house. When I did, I heard the door shut behind me with a dull, solid sound.

Without the steam, I was cold again. And somewhat wounded. And more than a little bit angry.

Storming back through the kitchen, I grabbed my bag and headed for the stairs. No one stopped me; not even Sir-Cleans-a-Lot, who was spinning lazily between the legs of the couch. I got to the second floor landing when I bumped into Sebastian, with a towel slung over one shoulder. He mumbled an apology, then shifted his body to one side so I could pass.

“Late night?” he asked, more out of a requirement to make small talk.

“Something like that.”

I continued up. After two more steps, I stopped and turned around.

“You heading down to the sauna?”