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From the crack of dawn until after my too conservative bedtime, the university was trying to make sure they got all their money’s worth. Yes, our room was covered as well as Rhys’ flight and food, but all of his time was theirs.
Curling a hand over my stomach, Rhys pulled me into his chest and nuzzled the back of my neck. “Hmm. I guess that’s our sign that we need to get up.”
I groaned again.
No, even as exhausted as I was, I would have always wanted to be here for him. I was just a terrible grump when I was tired.
“What’s on the agenda today?” Thatcher pressed a kiss to my forehead as he scooted in close.
Yesterday, we’d toured the university, the hockey facilities, met several of the teammates, and finished the evening off with great seats to the home game. It would have been a blast if I hadn’t felt like I’d had to beonmost of the day. I’d never smiled so much during one period in my life.
By the end of the day, I probably looked more like I was grimacing than being distantly polite. Thatcher had tried for the first couple hours then he’d resorted to serious expressions with a side of manly head nod.
Rhys was the only one who didn’t try to pander to these people. And why would he? He was exceptionally talented, and they’d be lucky to have him, family scandal or not.
I was surprised no one had said anything about it. There wasn’t even a whisper of a hint that they were following the news on Stan Bennett. The entire day, the players, recruiter, and coach when we saw him, went out of their way to be gracious and engaging.
“Breakfast with a few of the players, then practice with the team. The coach and recruiter would also like a sit down meet with me before we head back to the airport, but that will be after lunch. If I didn’t mistake the schedule the guy told us last night, we have a few hours to ourselves after the practice.” Rhys’ voice rumbled with leftover sleep.
“Damn, they’re letting you have a few hours to yourself?” Thatcher’s sarcasm was strong this morning.
Rhys chuckled, his breath shifting my hair. “I know, shocker. But I think that’s probably customary. They threw everything they could at me to make the school and program look great, and then they give you a few hours to check out anything else that could be of interest to you. It’s a good marketing ploy.”
Now that I’d been awake for a few minutes, I couldn’t continue to lay here. I had to pee, especially with Rhys pushing on my stomach to hold me tight to his body.
“I’ll be back,” I mumbled and fought my way out of the covers and sprinted toward the bathroom. I turned the fan on so the echoing sound of my pee didn’t reach their ears. I wasn’t so shy normally, but they were so close, and with no other competing sounds, it just seemed weird.
After taking care of business, I went ahead and brushed my teeth and washed my face. With one bathroom for the three of us, time in here was limited. If I didn’t take care of these things now, there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to later.
When I exited the bathroom, Thatcher was putting on a small pot of coffee while Rhys was stretching and cracking his back as he sat on the edge of the bed. While they were occupied, I took a moment to drink them in.
All of my guys were so different from each other, not only in looks, but personality and tastes as well. Rhys was the typical jock. In great shape, aloof, and quieter than most.
Thatcher was a moody artist. No, moody wasn’t the right word. He was emotional. He felt and he felt big, but he didn’t often let it get him down. Beck was similar in a lot of ways, but then again, they were both on the creative side. And Jonah was the extreme A-type personality with a brain that never quit and a penchant for tattoos.
Even their body types were different. Rhys’ body was strong and corded, while Thatcher’s was lean and lightly muscled. And the things they could do to me together. Just the barest memory of the first night had my core clenching and my face overheating.
“What’s wrong?” Thatcher asked as he tossed a glance over his shoulder.
He couldn’t have suspected where my thoughts had gone. Otherwise, he would have tried to take advantage. I was learning that Thatcher was very opportunistic like that.
“Nothing, just thinking about the day ahead of us.” And how lucky I was. Because even though we were all so different, wefit.
* * *
“Are you sure you’re good to practice with the team?” I squeezed his hand as the three of us followed Carter, a sophomore, into the rink.
We’d already packed all of our things and stuffed them in the trunk of the team vehicle. For the next couple hours, Rhys was going to run through drills, and participate in a friendly scrimmage.
“Yeah, of course. I’ve been getting back in the swing of things at home. A low key practice won’t hurt me.” Rhys scanned the crowd of people coming and going as he adjusted his bag over his shoulder.
“Are you sure, man? Because I’d hate to see your injuries get tweaked because you’re too arrogant to say no.”
I hadn’t wanted to point that out, focused on being the supportive girlfriend. This group dynamic really did work, since Thatcher had no such qualms.
Rhys shot him a droll glare. “I’m fine. This isn’t a game. There’s no rivalry and no animosity. If anything, they’ll be on their best behavior because they want me to join their team. The coach is also aware of my past injuries and won’t let anyone fuck up my recovery.”
“Okay, okay.” Thatcher held his hands up. “I’m just playing the part of concerned brother husband.” He smirked, and I choked on my spit.
