Page 120 of These Wicked Hearts

“You’re famous.”

“I have like forty thousand followers. Hardly famous. And it doesn’t help that most of those followers are from the sourdough video I did where you were in the background walking around with just a towel on.”

Atlas whistles. “That’s disgusting.”

Grey looks at Atlas. “I’m sorry, who did the nearly nude Men’s Sports Illustrated issue their rookie year?”

“Excuse me, what?” I lift my attention. “You did what?”

“I didn’t—” His lips purse. “I wasn’t nearly nude! It was tasteful!”

“Tastefully nude,” I mutter to myself. “Men’s Sports you said?” I grab my phone, twisting out of reach when Atlas lunges for it. I search online, and holy hot damn. “Uh . . .” I turn my screen to our audience. “I wasn’t aware that helmets could be worn on either head.” I wink.

“Oh, come on!” Atlas goes to grab my phone, but I snatch it away.

“This is my new wallpaper.” I grin. “Didn’t realize someone could make hockey gear look so slutty.”

“It’s art!” Atlas growls.

Grey looks at Felix. “I missed this.”

Then the front door flies open again, and cold air rushes inside along with more voices. I recognize the men immediately. Oli comes into the kitchen carrying an overnight bag, while Andre trails behind him with two more slung over his shoulders.

Oli freezes when he sees Atlas. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit right back at you.” Atlas smiles. Oli drops his bag to give Atlas a tight hug then does the same to Grey. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“A welcome surprise,” Grey says.

“How’s the head?” Oli inspects him as if he can see the concussion.

“I’m fine.” Atlas swats him away. “How was the flight?”

“Oh, you know. Ryker sat with me and tried to fit himself inside my skin.”

Atlas laughs, then Oli looks at me. “Our friend Ryker is terrified of flying, and since these two dipshits abandoned me this year, guess who’s on Ryker watch.”

“The team captain.” Andre claps him on the back. “Deal with it, babe.”

“Easy for you to say. You get to sit next to Landon.”

“Goalie bros.”

“And I didn’t abandon you, dickhead.” Grey rolls his eyes.

“I did do that. I did abandon you all.” Atlas laughs.

Oli leans on the counter, inspecting us. “Oli, don’t,” Andre warns.

“What?” He blinks innocently. “I thought they were strangers.” He shrugs. “Doesn’t seem very safe to get in a car and drive six hours away with a stranger.”

“Stranger?” Grey cocks a brow. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing,” Atlas grits out. “Clearly he’s taken too many pucks to the brain.”

“Wait,” Grey says. “You knew about this?”

“What is it you say?” Oli thinks. “Not my story to tell.”