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Well, fuck.
* * *
I havea gift that comes in handy when I’m on the ice. I can shut the world off completely and totally. It’s me and the game, and that’s it. That is the only place I can do that. So, this morning, I ran my own drills, and the four other people who showed up, also knowing there wouldn’t be a coach there whose ass needed kissing, they ran them, too.
After practice, JT and Dash invited Hank Marshall and Asher Benjamin over to play COD. It’s a good call, first line bonding time. Well, if Koa gets out of bed, it will be. And I’d honestly like him to converse with as a distraction from my thoughts.
I’m currently tripping over how to deal with Riley’s … issue. I mean, it’s not anissue. Seriously, good for her, and lucky me, but fuuuck. I swore I’d never punch another V card, but here I’ve already unknowingly shuffled the deck, so to speak. I’ve licked it, fingered it, and now I’m addicted, so what’s a man to do?
Standing at the stove, stress-grilling up the leftover steaks I sliced up and scrambling eggs with leftover veggies and cheese, while the four of them play … a round? Is it a fucking round? I have no idea. I just know that it will never be my thing. My thing is hockey, and it’s also Riley … who’s a virgin.
“Need some help?”
I look back at Koa, who’s walking toward the sink with his empty gallon jug of water that he totes around.
“After you fill up, grab six plates?”
He glances into the living room. “Full first line?”
“Yeah, we all showed up, and they invited them to play that game.”
“Better them than us.”
“Accurate.” I laugh.
“Avocado toast?” he asks.
“Sounds good.”
* * *
After a few minutes,they all walk into the kitchen, and I nod toward the island. “Food’s up.”
“Well, shit,” Hank Marshall says.
“Looks good,” Asher compliments. “Appreciate it.”
Koa walks back out of his room, now with his hair pulled back and in a knot. “How was the ice?”
“Messy,” JT says, spearing a piece of meat.
“You all make me feel like I’m slacking. Probably going to hit the gym later if anyone wants to join.” Koa takes a plate.
“I’m in,” Dash says.
“We should go at around five so Theo can wine and dine his girl without us here.” JT winks.
“Not kicking anyone out to share a meal with my girl. Just chilling.”
“She got any hot friends?” Hank asks.
“She’s in a sorority; she has a few hundred hot friends.” JT laughs.
“Tread easy. They’re not all sane,” Dash tells them.
“Crazy’s hot in bed.” Hank laughs.
“Batshit isn’t,” Dash states.
