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"Theo," she laughs against my lips. "They're your friends."
"Exactly," I growl. "And my friends are assholes."
"You can't say that. It's rude."
"Baby doll, I've been listening to them fart and burp and snore and ask an endless barrage of stupid fucking questions for two years straight," I murmur, tugging her closer to my body. "I'm allowed to be rude."
"Whatever," she mumbles, making me smile.
"Kiss me, Charlotte."
"I don't want to kiss you," she says. "People are watching."
"Then they can watch you kiss me," I growl, swooping down to claim her mouth before she can tell me no again. Swear to God, she says it just because she likes to fuck with me. Because she kisses me back every single time.
Once she's suitably pliant in my arms, I pull back. She sways against me, wearing my favorite smile. God, I want to see her in nothing but that smile again. It's so full of happiness, it's like it flows out of her and into the air around her. Nothing makes my dick harder than her wearing that smile. It'll be the sole reason she never gets any rest.
"They're going to love you," I promise her, and then tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
"'Kay," she whispers.
"Close your eyes," I say, sliding an arm around her waist.
She obediently closes them.
I pull the door to the locker room open. A wall of sound immediately hits us. There are no days off when the Cup is in sight. We're out here seven days a week, grinding our asses off in search of glory.
"You can open your eyes," I murmur once I'm sure everyone is decent. She won't be seeing any dick but mine for the rest of her life.
She peeks them open, peering into the locker room like she expects someone to bite her. She's so fucking cute. Jesus.
"Oh, wow," she says, leaning so far into the room she nearly topples over. "This place is fancy."
Kellan and Jonas notice us in the doorway. Jonas elbows Gray, who glances in our direction and then grins. He taps Wes with his skate, getting his attention. One by one, every man in the room turns in our direction.
No one says anything.
"Um, hi," Charlotte squeaks, waving shyly. "Theo made me come, so if I'm not supposed to be in here, it's his fault for being bossy."
A shit-eating grin spreads across Jonas's face.
"You can come in, sweetheart," Kris says, his voice soft.
Charlotte stumbles forward a step and then looks around again. "It's like a sausage party in here," she mumbles. "Why don't girls play hockey?"
Everyone cracks up.
"Because girls are too smart to put up with these assholes every day," Wes says, grinning. "They have their own league instead."
"Cool," Charlotte whispers.
"You aren't playing hockey, Charlotte," I growl.
She narrows her eyes on me, her chin coming up in a show of superiority. "I can do what I want, Theo Kline," she says. "You're not the boss of me."
"Fuck yeah!" Jonas yells. "Tell him, little bit!"
I cut my eyes in his direction.
