The Fake Date Agreement

Lamont U Book 1

Ember L. Nicole

The Fake Date Agreement

Copyright © 2025 by Ember L. Nicole

authoremberleenicole@gmail.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

v.2.3

Cover by Yummy Book Covers

Edits by Swish Design & Editing

Author's Note

Thank you for picking up The Fake Date Agreement. This book is a spicy contemporary why choose romance, which means the heroine doesn’t have to choose between her love interests.

My heroine has Hashimoto's Thyroiditis (a chronic autoimmune disease), so there are references to how she manages her symptoms.

While this book is a work of fiction, I have tried to remain faithful to the realities of college hockey. I have also taken some creative liberties to fit the needs of the story.

Content Warning

This book contains:

Explicit language

Physical violence

Sexual content (including double penetration and DVP, but no MM)

References to the death of a parent (cancer)

References to the death of parents (car accident)

References to the death of a grandparent (natural causes)

Playlist

Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer

Put Your Records On - Corinne Bailey Rae

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

The Hills - The Weeknd

Back to Black - Amy Winehouse

Green Light - Lorde

Missing Piece - Vance Joy

Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan

To the girls who don’t believe that they deserve

to be adored. You do.

Chapter 1

Tobie

“How much?”

“Fifty dollars.”

My eyes bulge. “For tickets? But the match already started.”

“Game.” The ticket agent doesn’t even try to hide his judgment.

It’s not my fault I don’t know anything about hockey. I’m just here to be a supportive girlfriend. If that means freezing my ass off watching a game—match—whatever, broken up by the occasional burst of violence, then so be it.

I stick my hand in my coat pocket and thrust a handful of bills toward him. “Fine. Here. Commit daylight robbery.”

After collecting my overpriced ticket, I stop at the concession stand and nearly have a heart attack when I learn the going price for two hotdogs.

I can’t really afford tonight, especially after blowing two hundred dollars on a new dress and however much dinner will cost at Luigi’s, an Italian restaurant in our small Pennsylvania city.

Marc’s LSATs are literally around the corner, and he needs to ace them to get into the law school of his dreams. Sure, I’d hoped he would send me flowers or take me out since today is our six-year anniversary, but he never misses a hockey game. We’ll have other nights together. He’s worth it. He deserves a treat.

The lobby of the Fairfax Arena, home of the Lamont Wolverines, is awash in bright sponsorship signs plastered on every wall.

Someone talking sports has always made my eyes glaze over, but I vaguely remember Marc saying the Wolverines have been winning. They’ve been winning a lot.

I put my hotdogs on a shelf and undo my coat belt, swallowing the anxiety growing in my gut.

The skirt of my dress rides up, and I tug it back down to my knees, silently willing it to behave. In the store, the navy blue wrap dress felt like the perfect choice. Now, all I see are lumps and bumps.

I should’ve gone with something looser.

Or black.

Every day is a jeans and hoodie day for Tobie Myers because finding a dress that flatters my thighs, belly, and B-cup breasts isn’t easy. It never is. I’d wanted to make an extra special effort for Marc—a dress instead of baggy jeans, contacts instead of my thin gold-rimmed glasses, and block-heeled sandals instead of my Chucks.

And makeup. Not much of it—lipstick, blusher, mascara, and dark brown kohl eye shadow to bring out the green Marc says he loves about my hazel eyes.

Now I feel like a kid playing dress-up.

Mom died when I was in the eighth grade. I was thirteen and just getting interested in makeup. When she passed, I threw out the few pieces of makeup she’d bought for me and told myself it didn’t matter. But I miss how it felt sitting beside her, laughing as we tried out eyeshadows and lipsticks.

I just miss her.

Before I can talk myself out of entering the arena, I throw my shoulders back, pick up the hotdogs, and walk inside.

Marc loves you. He won’t care if you look ridiculous. He’ll be happy you showed up to surprise him when he knows you hate hockey.

I shiver when I’m hit in the face with a chilling blast of cold air from the ice.

As a library science major used to a quiet library, the roar from the excited crowd and the loud boom of the announcers’ voices makes me want to turn around and walk back out.

I carefully make my way down the stairs toward the season ticket holders’ section, somehow remembering where it is from the one time Marc brought me to a game in our freshman year. Between freezing my ass off, sipping flat beer, and having no clue what was going on, I decided hockey wasn’t for me.

Too many rules. Too fucking cold. And my glasses kept fogging up so I could barely see anything.

I won’t be able to sit with Marc, but I’ll surprise him, give him a hotdog, and find my seat until the game is over, and I can take him out for dinner.

Figures move with graceful ease across the ice.

I have no idea who’s winning, and frankly, I don’t care.

“I’m just here to be a supportive girlfriend,” I mutter.

As I scan the seats for his blond head, his face pops up on the big screen like it was meant to be—clear blue eyes, thick, dark blond hair, wearing the dark blue, silver, and white Wolverines’ jersey. There is the love of my life.

I smile, calling out as I approach, “Marc!”

The camera pulls back, and a heart shape forms around his image on the screen.

I snort. Marc is here alone. He doesn’t have anyone to⁠—

My boyfriend of six years dips his head and draws a pretty blonde into a deep, open-mouth kiss that stuns me.

My stomach clenches, and pressure forms in my chest as a wave of lightheadedness makes me dizzy.

He was my first everything.

First kiss.

First time I had sex.

First guy I said I love you to and who said it back.

Marc Peters owns my entire heart.

“You don’t have to come to hockey with me, babe. I go on my own or with Doug from class.”

That’s what he said.

She doesn’t look like a Doug to me.

Don’t they need to come up for air at some point? How the hell can this kiss just keep going?

The crowd is loving it, cheering and stamping their feet as my boyfriend shatters my heart into a million tiny pieces.

And I am still holding these stupid fucking hotdogs and not doing anything but staring.

Throw them at his head, Tobie, I tell myself. He deserves worse than that, but just do something.

The camera pans from Marc to me, and the announcer’s voice booms. “Uh, oh. Looks like there might be trouble in paradise.”

Marc breaks the kiss. He’s smiling, flushed, and happy until he spots me.

His smile freezes, and he shoots to his feet. “Tobie, I can explain.”

Four words are all the confirmation I need that this was no innocent kiss.

I don’t like confrontation.

The moment it looks like I might have to stand up for myself, my palms sweat, my heart races, and I can’t breathe. Then I have this desperate urge to run away. If I don’t, I spend the next several seconds stuttering and stumbling over my words before coming up with the perfect response approximately forty-eight hours later.

But this time, I know exactly what to say.

“How could you, Marc?” There’s a quiver in my voice as a burn starts at the back of my eyelids.

“Tobie…” He steps toward me, but I want nothing to do with him.

I take a step away, and there’s nothing but air.

It happens so fast.

One moment, I’m at the top of the stairs. The next, I’m sitting on my throbbing ass at the bottom. Along the way, something happened to the hotdogs I was holding because they’re no longer in my hands.

How I didn’t break my neck will forever be a mystery to me. To my surprise, I’ve only broken the strap on my sandal. From somewhere behind me, Marc is calling my name, but there’s no way in hell I’m looking back at him.

Looking forward isn’t much better.

I might have missed what happened, but no one else did.

My face is blown up on the screen, making the kohl around my eyes look like a child went at it with a blunt crayon. Marc was wrong. The brown does not bring out the green in my hazel eyes. It highlights the fact that I don’t have a clue how to apply makeup correctly.

As I sit on my aching ass, the sound of laughter grows louder, echoing as it spreads like a pack of hyenas cackling.

Some moments will stick with me until I’m gray-haired and old. My face, blown up on the big screen in a packed arena with ketchup smeared down the front of my dress will go down as a core memory.

I shove myself to my feet, stumbling out of the arena as the first hot tear hits my cheek.

Chapter 2

Tobie

“Hey! You can’t go—”

A roar from the arena cuts through the yell behind me.

Head down, one broken sandal in hand, I hobble down the dark hallway, brushing tears from my cheeks.

When I glance behind me, a man in a dark blue security jacket and a balding head of brown hair is sprinting away from me.

I’m not sure what’s happening , but I hope to hell it’s something dramatic so everyone can forget all about my public humiliation.

I could have rushed out of the arena instead of down here, but there was no way I was leaving with panda-like eyes. There had been a line snaking down the hallway outside the ladies’ bathroom, and it would have taken forever to get to the front.

The farther I hobble, the darker it gets. I pause, asking myself if I should be going down this way. Shaking my head, I continue.

I’ll only be five minutes.

Plenty of time to get out the last of these tears, wash my face, and I’m out of here. I should be able to make it home before I need to burst into tears again.

A restroom comes into view, and when I push open the door, I breathe a sigh of relief to find it’s empty. A light flickers on lazily. Perfect. The light flicks off. Shit. I wave my arms around in case motion sensors trigger it, but the only thing I wind up doing is looking like a bat in my black coat.

Since I don’t need light to cry, I head into the nearest stall, slam the door shut, lock it, and put the toilet seat down. Grabbing a wad of tissues and dropping my head into my hands, I give in to more tears.

I should have asked Marc what the hell he was doing.

No. I should have flung the hotdog at him. One at him and one at her might have made me feel a little better.

“Who the hell am I kidding? No, it wouldn’t.”

How long had he been cheating on me? Had he always been taking her to hockey games while I was singing his praises that he wasn’t the type of boyfriend who dragged me to sports events, knowing I hated them?

Did he sleep with her?

Their kiss had been so intimate. I don’t want to believe he would sleep with another woman, but he’s shown so little interest in sex over the last year.

Because he was getting it from someone else, Tobie. That’s why.

I want to rush back to him, to shake the answers out of him, but I don’t shake answers out of anyone. I make myself a cup of herbal tea, climb into bed, and furiously journal my frustrations in the diary my dad got me for Christmas.

I can’t torture myself like this. Crying in a dark restroom that smells of stale piss is truly pathetic.

I blow my nose, toss the tissue in the toilet, and slide the lock open. Metal thumps to the floor on the other side, and I hesitate for a split second.

I push on the door.

It doesn’t open.

I shove the door harder this time. It doesn’t give an inch.

I back up as far as the toilet will let me go and throw myself at the door.

Cursing under my breath, I rub the soreness from my arm as I glare so hard at the white wood, it’s a miracle it doesn’t spontaneously combust.

I run at the door again, bounce off it, and trip as I fall back.

Crack.

I moan when my head explodes in agony.

I blink a couple of times, and things feel different.

When I rushed down the hallway, the faint sound of the crowd in the arena was distant, growing more so the farther away I walked from it.

But now it is absolutely silent.

Is the game over?

My head aches, and I feel slightly sick as I get to my feet, resting my hand on the wall to remove my other sandal. If I’d taken the stupid thing off before, maybe I wouldn’t be picking myself up off a filthy floor with a pounding head.

I warily eye the door I went to war with and lost in what should’ve been a one-sided fight.

“Hello!” I yell.

Silence.

“Is anyone there?” I call out, straining to listen for any footsteps headed my way.

Nothing.

I scream like a girl being chased by a killer in a horror movie because someone has to hear that and save me, right?

Wrong.

I fish out my cell phone from my pocket and curse the universe when the screen is black.

I was running late to the game after nearly poking my eye out when I was curling my hair. By the time I realized I only had one bar of battery left, it was too late to charge it. Now that decision is coming back to bite me on the ass, just like every decision I’ve made so far.

I shouldn’t have spent money I didn’t have on a new dress, heels, and tickets for a game I barely understand. Marc didn’t deserve it. He was absolutely not worth it.

I shouldn’t have come here at all.

Stuffing my cell phone in my coat pocket, I refocus on the door. “You are an idiot, Tobie Myers.”

I was never getting out of this stall by throwing myself at it.

The door opens the other way.

I rattle the handle, but whatever fell on the other side must be the mechanism for unlatching the lock.

I pull on it even harder, putting my back into it. Of course, it doesn’t open. “Because that would be too easy,” I mutter as I eye the floor, already regretting what I’m about to do, and in what was a brand-new dress, no less.

I have no desire to get up close and personal with this nasty floor, but if no one is going to save me, I have to save myself.

I lie as flat as I can and try not to breathe as I tilt my head, swallowing hard as my stomach heaves. Someone did not clean these floors as well as they should have. They get a D for effort.

“Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up,” I chant.

When my nausea passes, I squint.

The world is not right.

I take a long moment to determine that a contact has fallen out. I see a small silver object perfectly clear out of my left eye, but it might as well be a silver blob out of my right.

Yes, I could look for my lost contact, but since I have no intention of sticking it in my eye after it’s been on this rank floor, what’s the point?

Size twelve me is never getting through the gap under the door. I might be able to reach whatever that metal thing is, reattach it somehow, and get myself out of here.

I sweat as I strain.

The tip of my middle finger brushes the metal thing. I stretch. Just a little farther.

My head pounds. I’m terrified I’m going to wedge myself under this door, but then my index finger and thumb graze the metal object.

Yes.

I drag it toward me with my fingertips, closing my palm around it tightly so I don’t accidentally drop it.

It’s only when I’m on my feet, ready to reattach the object and get the hell out of here, that I realize I have to attach it to the other side of the door.

“Fuck!” I yell as I kick the door. “Why is this happening to me?” I kick it again, and when I only hurt my toes more, I grab one of my sandals and hit the door, if only to release a little more of my frustration so I can think.

“Why!” I scream as loud as I can. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Chapter 3

Caleb

“Did you hear something?” Reid twists toward the arena’s ground-floor fire exit.

“No. Pass me a puck.” I wait two feet from the goal, stick in hand for him to tap more from the rink’s entrance.

Reid, the best left winger on the team, passes me five from the open bag beside him.

As the center, top scorer, and captain of the Lamont Wolverines, I drive each one into the goal. “Again.”

“Dude. You can make the shot.”

Reid isn’t just the best left wing. He has a positivity that earned him a nickname so ridiculous I can’t believe he takes it on the chin. If anyone gave me his nickname, they’d be getting an uppercut to the chin. Not Reid Graves.

There is laid back and easygoing. Then there is Reid.

“If I could make it, I would have made it.”

Javier, my other friend and teammate, currently leaning against the plexiglass, checks his watch, calling out, “You realize I have better things to do, Boucher.”

“No, you don’t.” I nod at Reid when I’m all out of pucks.

Javier is Brazilian-American. Between his good looks and his accent, the girls love him. I’m happy to take advantage by ducking behind him so they can focus their attention on him, and I can focus mine on the only thing that matters—hockey.

Reid mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like hockey and the Terminator.

“What did you say?” I pause my practice.

He raises his voice. “I said you’re like a hockey Terminator machine. Dial it back already. You can make the shot. I’d like to go home.”

“Nothing is stopping you.”

“Something is.” He taps another five pucks my way. “The thought of you half frozen to death as you pleaded again.”

I lift my eyebrow.

“It’s not dramatic if it could actually happen. You are training too hard.”

“There’s no such thing.” I slam the puck in the back of the net to drown out the memory of Coach McIntyre, who we all call Coach, saying the exact same thing.

So did Terrell Andersen, our physio, when I went to see him about muscles so tight I was hobbling.

And Zach Palinsky, our trainer, when he found me hitting the gym at six o’clock on a Sunday morning.

But the big game is coming, and nothing is more important than being the captain who leads the Wolverines to victory. The last time that happened was seventy years ago.

This year is ours. Not only because all three of us are seniors, and we graduate at the end of this semester, but I feel it in my bones.

Javier sticks his hand in his pocket, pulling out his cell phone with a sigh. “She texted me again.”

Reid has the patience of a saint, which is why he’s the one passing me the pucks. Javier Duarte, aka Casanova, the right wing, saves his patience for the girls. Two pucks and he was done. On the ice, he’s as hungry to score as I am.

Reid shakes his head. “I told you to flush that phone down the toilet, Jay. Get a new one with a new number. Let her do whatever the fuck she dumped you for with the vet.”

“Doctor,” Javier corrects him, tucking the phone in his pocket. “She has a thing about doctors.”

I slam the puck into the overflowing goal.

It goes in like it’s supposed to. Every time except the one time I needed it to, it goes in.

So why the fuck did I miss?

“Maybe she heard about you being drafted,” I say, drawn into their conversation when I told myself I would stay out of it.

We’re all being drafted when we finish up our last semester. Not sure where we’ll end up. No one gets a say in where they go. You get drafted, and you go.

Javier’s ex has done everything but show up, and the way she’s been texting the guy, it’s only a matter of time before he walks in to find her in his bed. We’re Division 1 athletes, which means we’re busy. If we’re not in the gym, we’re at class, and if we’re not in class, we’re here practicing on the ice. The one place we’re rarely in is our dorm.

“She doesn’t care about hockey. Thinks all athletes stink of sweat.”

“Ah.” Reid nods firmly. “She heard about the money. She wants a bigger engagement ring than you got her before.”

“Well, she’ll be waiting forever. I am not…” Javier’s voice tails off as he squints at the fire exit. “I think you’re right. There is a strange noise.”

“It’s just a cleaner,” I say.

“Nope.” Reid walks away. “They left an hour ago, you know, back when we were on our first bag of pucks. Might not have heard them with the way you were growling at me. I’m checking it out.”

“Maybe this place is haunted,” Javier says thoughtfully. “Might explain Cap missing an easy shot.”

“It wasn’t that easy,” I snarl.

A smile stretches across Javier’s face, and I kick myself for letting him provoke me. “Dude, you are one of the best players I have ever seen. You need to loosen up. It’s not usually this easy to rile you.”

That’s why it’s so hard to stay angry at him.

We don’t just play together, we’ve formed a brotherhood. The only points we score against each other are the ones that don’t hurt or aren’t meant to. At least, not for long.

“Something isn’t right.” I frown.

Javier frowns back. “What do you think forcing it will do? It’s like straining to take a dump. All you’ll end up with is a torn⁠—”

“That is a subject you have taken way, way too far,” Reid interrupts, wincing. “I don’t need to hear about any of Boucher’s parts being torn. Least of all his ass.”

I consider Javier as my mind returns to the goal I shouldn’t have missed.

He didn’t miss any shots.

Because for every game, he wears his special boxers. Maybe he’s onto something.

“Maybe I should get a pair,” I mutter.

“Is the ice freezing your brain?” Reid calls, pulling the door open as he twists to face me.

I scowl at him. “It is not⁠—”

Aaah!

We all stare down the long, black hallway, dimly lit by security lights. The mournful, haunting echo of a distant scream sends shivers down my spine, and my fingers instinctively tighten around my stick. Don’t know what the fuck that was, but I’m not going anywhere near it without this stick in my hand.

“You heard that, right?” I ask, still staring.

“Yup.” Reid hovers at the door, not taking a step forward or back. “So…”

“I say we ignore our resident Casper and see if we can still make it to the party,” Javier suggests.

The rest of the team is at the big Friday night frat party. Usually, the arena is locked up tight after game day, but I convinced Coach to let us have a couple of hours of practice after everyone had gone home. He told us to leave through a fire exit before midnight. At midnight, security would throw us out.

Coach knows me too fucking well.

We won tonight. Barely. But we won. Not that anyone would have known it with the way I growled at everyone to move on my way to the locker room for the post-game celebration. Everyone celebrated. Reid put a beer in my hand. I set it down and hit the showers.

I don’t miss that shot.

It’s the Captain Caleb Boucher Special, served up when we’re winning, so why not make things easy by opening a bigger lead on a team we’ve already beaten?

I put it away every time.

It’s the safe bet.

Except tonight.

Tonight means something is wrong. I’m off my game. And whatever it is, I need to fix it before the championship game, and I fumble the biggest bag in my entire hockey career.

Again.

“You’re thinking about that shot again, aren’t you?” Reid mutters, rolling his eyes.

“No,” I lie.

Reid raises an eyebrow.

I skate to the side of the rink and step off, resting my stick against the plexiglass to change out of my skates and into my sneakers. “But if I were thinking about it…”

“You need to get out of your head,” Javier says. “That’s what this is. You are taking it too seriously.”

“It’s hockey. How the fuck am I supposed to take it?” I snarl.

“Nope. He needs to get laid.” Reid grins at Javier. “Casanova, you have to hook him up with one of the girls who likes to throw their panties at your head.”

Javier laughs. “That was one time, and I went home alone.”

“That can come after the big game. Once we’ve won,” I say, grabbing my stick.

Javier and Reid stare at me.

I can’t help but notice Reid mouthing each word as I spoke.

Have I really been saying it that often?

I open my mouth.

“This is important. It’s what we’ve all been working toward.” Javier drops his accent and deepens his voice, speaking with a gruffness that sounds familiar.

I glare at him. “I don’t sound like that.”

Javier claps me on the shoulder. “You sound exactly like that. Let’s go check out Casper and get out of here. I need a drink.”

“Maybe it’s an owl,” Reid says as we creep down the hallway.

“An owl?”

“Yes, scoff at me for suggesting an owl got in the building, but eagerly embrace the possibility we might have a resident ghost in the arena. That makes perfect sense,” Reid says sarcastically.

“You hear anything?” Javier whispers.

“No,” Reid whispers back. “Why are we whispering?”

Contractors closed off this entire section of the arena so they could remodel, ready for the championship game we’re hosting at the end of this semester. All the new sponsors are eager to throw money at the team, wanting the arena to be perfect for a historic event when we win the championship after a seventy-year drought.

If we win it.

No one should have been in this part of the stadium. Most of the lights are off, and security blocks this hallway every game day.

So what the fuck is making those strange noises?

A muffled, growling whimper comes from behind a closed restroom door.

My fingers curl around my stick, and I lift it, ready to swing. “You hear that?”

Now, I’m the one whispering. What the fuck happened to my ability to lead the team with a roar of, “Let’s do this, Wolverines!”

Javier gulps. “Heard it.”

I motion to the door with my stick. “Open it.”

Both of them twist to face me.

“Why me?” Reid demands.

“I have the stick, and I’m the captain. One of you push it open, and I’ll swing.”

Reid nods at Javier. “You do it, Jay. You’re wearing your lucky pants. I figure we need all the luck in the world not to get eaten.”

“You think lucky pants are going to save me?” Javier backs up a step. “Nah, my man. You do it.”

“Eaten? What the fuck do you think is in there?” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. We need to figure out what it is, deal with it, and then I need to get back on the ice. Kick the door open.”

Reid glares at me. “I say again, why does it have to be⁠—”

The door flies open.

Someone screams.

It sure as hell wasn’t me, that much I know.

I leap aside to avoid the door, running into Reid when we both go in the same direction. Our heads crack together, and the stick flies out of my hand.

I’m diving to get it when it hits me that we’re not dealing with an owl, an evil spirit, or a ghost.

It’s a girl.

Beautiful. Short. Lush curves, soft-looking curly brown hair, holding a pair of shoes in one hand, and rubbing the back of her head as she squints at us.

“Who are you?” Javier demands from halfway down the hallway.

Impressive. The only time he moves that fast is when he’s on the ice.

“I know I’m not supposed to be here, but please don’t kill me.”

Chapter 4

Tobie

Three of the hottest men I’ve seen in my life stare at me.

I can barely see them out of one eye with a contact missing, so I squint for all I’m worth.

The tallest one snatches up a hockey stick, and I retreat.

I heard them out here. I couldn’t help but hear them getting ready to crack my head open after I’d finally gotten myself out of the locked stall.

Just in time to die.

I’d been waiting on the other side of the bathroom door for the perfect time to open it.

I must have timed it wrong because two of the men had run into each other. Another had sprinted down the hallway. One of them had screamed. I’m not sure which one did the screaming, but something tells me it wasn’t the big guy with the scowling, gruff expression currently holding his hockey stick.

I retreat a little more.

His handsome face twists into annoyance. “Stop that. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I eye the hockey stick.

Hot guy with piercing green eyes and short, dirty blond hair is a little less terrifying when he lowers it. He’s still stupidly tall and stacked with so much muscle straining a long-sleeve black T-shirt that he could pick me up with one arm and not notice he’s carrying a thing.

“You were making weird noises.” The guy rubbing his head does nothing to hide his curiosity. He’s not so terrifying. Cute. Longish, light brown hair, flint-gray eyes, and an open, friendly expression.

I blush. “Uh… I locked myself in the bathroom stall. I was trying to get out.”

“But the noises?” he presses.

“I was trying really hard.”

Between smacking a shoe against the door, I’d rattle it, cursing every bad thing that had ever happened to me, growling, yelling, and probably sounding like I was insane. And yet, insanity had worked. The door had flown open, clocking me in the head. I’d yelped in surprise, but I hadn’t even cared that I’d hurt myself again.

I was free.

The guy halfway down the hallway comes back. “You’re rubbing your head.”

I try to place his accent, but I can’t. I want to say Spanish, but that doesn’t sound right, even though he looks like he might be with his short, curly brown hair, olive skin, and pretty brown eyes.

I stop rubbing my throbbing head. “When I first tried to open the door, I…” How do you say you ran at the door, bounced off it, and knocked yourself out without sounding like an idiot? “Uh… I failed.”

Gruff Hot Guy’s eyes sharpen. “We’ll go back to the arena, and I’ll take a look at it. Head wounds are bad. You feel dizzy or sick?”

“I felt a bit sick before, but that’s because I had my nose to the floor,” I say.

They stare at me.

Three of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life, Tobie, and this is the state they find you in.

“Come on. It’s too dark here to see anything.” The gruff one leads the way up the hallway toward a bead of light at the end while the other two fall in beside me.

“I’m Reid. You want me to carry you?” the sweet one offers.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

I definitely have a head injury. Why else would I refuse an offer like that?

“I’m Javier,” says the guy with dark brown eyes like velvet. “It’s Portuguese,” he adds.

I cock my head.

His mouth curves in a sexy half smile. “I can always tell when a girl is distracted by my accent. My parents are Brazilian, but I’ve always called Boston home.”

“Tobie… Tobie Myers from a town in Nebraska so small no one has ever heard of it.” I smile at him as I try not to let his accent continue to distract me. I’m probably more concussed than I realize because I swear his eyes spark with interest.

“That short for something?” he asks.

“October. Fall was my mom’s favorite season, but I’ve been Tobie for so long, it’s practically my name now.”

“It’s cute. The grumpy one is Caleb.” Reid leans toward me and says in a loud whisper, “He’s half-Canadian, so you’d think he would be the nice one, not me.”

I bite my cheek to hide my smile when Caleb’s back stiffens as he stalks ahead.

In the arena, I shiver as we near the ice.

Caleb rests his stick against the plexiglass and motions me over. “Let me have a look.”

Despite all his gruffness, his fingers are gentle as he takes his time, carefully probing the back of my head. It is an honest-to-God scalp massage, and the only reason I’m not leaning into it and moaning is because I’ve humiliated myself enough tonight.

I wince when he touches a sore spot.

“You have a small lump,” he says, slowly pulling his fingers from my hair and taking a step back. “You should go to a doctor, get it checked out. Just in case.”

I glance at his forehead and the redness there. “You bumped your head too.”

I’d heard the crack of two heads colliding as I shoved the bathroom door open. Reid was rubbing his head. Caleb must have a titanium skull to shrug it off without so much as a curse.

Reid flashes me a grin. “We’re hockey players. Takes a lot more than that to get us down. If we’re sick or dizzy, Doc always checks us out. Concussion is a bitch.”

As he speaks, Caleb is toeing off his sneakers and sitting on a bench to pull on skates.

“Dude. Seriously. We have to go home,” Reid calls out.

“And we will.” Caleb finishes lacing up his skates and taps six pucks into the rink before he steps onto the ice. “In ten minutes.”

Reid rolls his eyes, which makes me think it’s not the first time he’s hearing this.

I ask a question I should know already. “What time is it?”

Reid glances at me. “Ten.”

I’m not sure what disturbs me the most—being unconscious for so long or having my face pressed against a urine-soaked floor for well over an hour.

Caleb’s grace on the ice is impressive for a muscled guy well over six feet tall. Considering he’s only in a long-sleeve tee and the others in Wolverines hoodies with the name and logo of a snarling wolverine on it, he doesn’t seem to be the least bit cold.

I watch him slam a puck into the goal.

“Why are you here so late? Aren’t you tired from the game?” I ask.

Thank God the ticket agent corrected me before. They would have laughed me out of the arena if I’d called it a match.

“Caleb missed a shot, so he needs to practice until midnight to atone for it,” Reid explains.

That seems like a harsh punishment, but what do I know about college sports? “Isn’t your coach here to make sure?”

“Ah, no.” Javier shakes his head. “This punishment is self-imposed. Caleb talked our coach into letting him stay.”

“He volunteered us as tribute,” Reid adds with a grin.

“Fuck you,” Caleb calls out. “You volunteered yourself.”

“Because we have had the fact that this is a team sport drilled into us since we were kids.” Reid lowers his voice and adds in a conspiratorial whisper. “He took advantage of our selfless, giving nature.”

He says it with such a bright smile, I’m not sure whether to believe him.

Caleb flips him off and continues hammering pucks into the back of the net.

“Oh, well, sorry you lost,” I apologize.

Javier snorts. “We didn’t lose.”

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s his shot. The shot he never misses.”

“But you won,” I say, still not getting it.

“He thinks it’s bad juju,” Javier explains. “For a guy who says he’s not superstitious, he sure is superstitious about that shot.”

“Why?”

“The last time he missed that shot was in his high school finals,” Reid says.

“And?”

“They lost the championship.”

I look at Caleb slamming the puck into the back of the net with such violence. I now fully understand why the goalies wear so much padding that they resemble the Michelin Man. Because to be on the receiving end of those…

I shudder.

“So now he thinks we’re going to lose the championship. Hence, him practicing for the next eternity.” Reid crosses his arms as he observes me. “Anyhoo, what’s your story?”

“My story?”

Javier and Reid nod.

I shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable under their scrutiny. “Um, I don’t have one.”

“You’re in here with us, so you must have one,” Reid says.

I give one section of the stand a fleeting glance when my public humiliation reasserts itself in my mind. “Uh, not really.”

“For fuck’s sake, let the girl go home,” Caleb calls out as Reid narrows his eyes and lifts his finger in an aha gesture.

“It’s you.”

I back up, not liking where this is going. “Uh…”

Reid nods as he waves his hands. “The girl from before. I glanced up at the screen earlier, and you were on it. The kiss cam, I think.”

Shit.

“It, uh… it technically wasn’t me,” I stutter.

“I don’t get it.” A line appears between Javier’s dark brows.

“My boyfriend. That’s, uh… it was my boyfriend. Now my ex. I was just the girl holding the hotdogs.”

I mentally wince at my word salad. Have I never spoken to a person a day in my life?

Caleb stops slamming the pucks into the net to look at me. “What’s the hotdog got to do with it?”

“What happened to letting the girl go home?” Reid glances at Caleb.

Caleb immediately turns away. “I just asked so she would then go home. That’s all.”

Reid snorts a laugh. “Yeah, right. So, Tobie. What’s the deal?”

I have never been on the receiving end of so much attention from such hot guys before. “Uh, it’s not that interesting. Neither am I.”

“I have my doubts about that,” Caleb mutters, shooting me an intense, focused stare on his way to collect more pucks from an open bag near the rink’s entrance.

I consider lying, but I figure, why not tell them? They won’t even remember me tomorrow, so why not talk out this humiliation with someone before I go home and get started on pretending none of it happened?

“I came to surprise my boyfriend for our sixth anniversary. He likes hockey, and I, well, I don’t, so I⁠—”

“What do you mean you don’t like hockey?” Caleb interrupts, frowning.

“Let her tell the story, man,” Reid says. “Not everyone has to love it.”

“There must be a reason.” Caleb narrows his eyes at me. “You get hit with a puck or something?”

“Nothing like that. It just isn’t something I enjoy. Anyway, I was⁠—”

“But why? Do you not understand it?”

Javier shakes his head. “Welcome to the world of Division 1 hockey, where the only people who don’t like hockey must have gotten hit with a puck. And my family. My ex too.” He whistles between his teeth. “The list was longer than I realized. Who knew?”

I glance at the plexiglass, concerned with the way Caleb has been hammering those pucks into the net. “Is it something that happens often?”

“Not unless you’re having the worst luck in the world,” Reid says.

“That’s me,” I mutter, feeling sorry for myself.

“It can’t be that bad.” Reid nudges my shoulder, and I yelp as I go flying.

“Shit, sorry.” He saves me from smashing into the plexiglass surrounding the rink. Smiling apologetically, he leads me over to a bench closest to the ice. “Come sit. What happened?”

He leaves his arm around my shoulder, and I’m weak enough that I lean into it. Tonight has not been easy. He’s handsome, warm, and smells shower fresh with a hint of sweet peppermint. I need this. “My boyfriend cheated. That’s why I was on the kiss cam. Today is our sixth anniversary, and I came to surprise him because he never misses watching you guys play, and he was kissing another girl.”

“He cheated on you?” Javier looks like he can’t believe it.

His disbelief makes me feel a tiny bit better.

My eyes water as I nod. “He was probably cheating for a while from the way he kissed her. And I…” My voice breaks. “I fell down the stairs, and then the lock broke in my bathroom stall, so if I smell, it’s because of stale pee when I was on the floor trying to get out.”

“You don’t smell,” Reid reassures me.

“Thanks.” I probably do smell, but he seems nice enough to lie about it so I won’t cry.

“Did he hit you?” Caleb is glaring as he leans on his stick.

I frown at him. “Marc? Why would you think he hit me?”

He gestures to my face. “You’re squinting.”

Because the world is still a big fat blur out of my right eye. “One of my contacts fell out when I knocked myself out in the bathroom.”

He stops glaring. “How’d you knock yourself out?”

I look away. “Um, just trying to get out.”

Like an idiot is how I knocked myself out.

Javier is smiling slightly at Caleb. “Weren’t you⁠—”

“Let her finish the damn story,” Caleb interrupts and nods at me. “Then what happened?”

“That’s it.” I sigh. “So if I got hit in the head with a puck, it wouldn’t surprise me. They say bad things happen in threes.”

“The puck would be four,” Javier says thoughtfully.

I sniff. “What?”

He counts off on his fingers. “Cheating would be one, locked bathroom is two, the lost contact and knocking yourself out would be three since it happened at the same time. If you got hit with a puck, that would be four. Maybe even five. I forgot the fall down the stairs.”

Caleb stares at him. “I’m sure she really appreciates you listing out her night of hell for her, Jay.”

Javier winces and aims an apologetic smile my way. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean⁠—”

“It’s okay. And you’re right.”

Reid walks off, returning with a handful of tissues he offers me.

I take it gratefully and blow my nose.

He cocks his head as he leans his hip against the plexiglass. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

“About what?”

“The ex,” Reid says.

I shrug and get to my feet, picking up my sandals from the bench. “Break up with him, I guess. But tomorrow. I can’t see him tonight. I should probably⁠—”

“And?” Reid prompts.

“And what?”

“Payback.” Reid’s eyes glisten with intensity.

“What?” I instinctively back up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You need payback.”

“What I need is to go home, put these clothes in the hamper or burn them, and go to bed.” I turn around, but Reid steers me back.

“Nuh-uh. What happened tonight demands retribution.”

I blink up at him. “What?”

“The guy needs punishment.”

I appreciate him taking my side like this, but…

“It wasn’t all that bad. I mean⁠—”

“He cheated and humiliated you. You fell on piss.”

“But it doesn’t smell.” Reid blinks at me, and I literally hate myself for what just came out of my mouth. I sigh. “Look. Nothing I try would work. He was clearly screwing her behind my back all along. He probably wanted me to find out. So now I know he no longer needs to go behind my back and that’s that. He doesn’t care.”

“So we make him care,” Reid declares.

I blink. “About me?”

“About you.”

“And how do we do that?”

“By making him rue the day he let you go. We’ll have him begging on his knees to take you back.”

I peer over my shoulder in case another girl snuck up behind me while I wasn’t paying attention.

“But we have practice,” Caleb says, frowning. “The big game is weeks away. We don’t have time for distractions.”

“Dude, the game is important, but it’s not the only thing that matters.”

“I missed a shot I should have made in my sleep. I need practice.”

“And she just had her heart broken.” A stubborn edge creeps into Reid’s relaxed tone.

“Uh, I should go,” I say when they glare at each other.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Reid says with a smile. “This is how we figure things out.” He turns back to Caleb. “Can you get off the ice for five minutes so we can talk about this?”

“Five minutes.” Caleb skates to the side of the rink, glancing at me before he switches his skates for his sneakers.

Reid, Javier, and Caleb form a huddle.

“We have to do something,” Reid says in a loud whisper.

“But what?” Javier asks.

“Help her get one over on the fuckwit,” Reid says. “She seems like a nice girl, and he completely fucking humiliated her. You know that shit will be all over campus tomorrow, and the game was on ESPN+.”

Oh God. It was recorded?

I clear my throat as my face burns with humiliation. “Um, I can hear you.”

“Sorry.” Reid lowers his voice and drags the others farther away. “So the turd has to suffer. And she has ketchup down the front of her dress, so I’m guessing he’s responsible for that as well.”

I look down. Shit. I forgot about the ketchup.

As they continue their hushed conversation, all I can think about is tonight’s shame.

Thankfully, it’s Friday, so I don’t have to go to class tomorrow, but I will have to face Marc, and I have no clue what I’m going to say.

The guys are still arguing, and I figure they were nice to listen, but I just want to go home and pretend tonight didn’t happen.

Head down, I quietly walk away.

Revenge and payback only work on someone who cares. If Marc cared about me, he wouldn’t have done what he did.

Chapter 5

Reid

“She’s gone,” Javier says.

I quit arguing with Caleb to take in the space where Tobie, the girl with the worst luck in the world, stood moments before. Her sweet and slightly floral scent clings to me. “I’m going after her.”

“Let the girl go home!” Caleb calls after me as I stalk toward the exit.

“Yes,” I call back as I grab my coat and gym bag from a bench. “Let the girl with the potential concussion find her way back home on her own. Great idea, Cap.”

“I’m coming with you.” Javier grabs his bag and follows.

The door slams shut behind us, and Javier is quiet as we head for the exit.

The big green door at the end of the hallway is slightly open.

“She was quiet,” I say. “I thought she would say something before she left.”

Javier scrubs a hand over his face. “It was my fault. Caleb was right. I don’t know what I was thinking, listing out her night of hell like that when she was already about to cry.”

“Doubt that. I’m the one with the big trap who told her about the game being on ESPN.”

“You apologized,” he says.

“And she promptly snuck out the second I was busy arguing with Caleb.”

I don’t even know why I felt the need to say it. I was pissed for her, and I needed Caleb to understand why she needed our help.

Instead, I’d wound up chasing her away.

He nudges my shoulder. “Your heart is too big.”

It’s quiet outside the Fairfax Arena. The arena is set apart from most of the academic buildings and dorms, surrounded on three sides by a parking lot that is jam-packed on game day. I’m well aware of how lucky we are to have our own arena on campus since not all schools do. It was one of the biggest draws to Lamont U.

During the day, contractors are in and out, busy making it pretty for the championship at the end of this semester, a game we’ve all spent years working toward. With regionals behind us and us winning in emphatic fashion, we entered the playoffs as a dominant force with unshakeable confidence. This is finally our year.

In our freshman year, the Lamont Wolverines were thirty out of thirty-two teams. Last year, we were fourth in the league and came in third during the championships. The year before that, we were fifth.

Along the way, we’ve collected sponsorships, fans, and more self-belief that we’re a force to be reckoned with.

“You think we should pay the ex a visit?” I suggest, envisioning knocking him out.

Javier stops scanning the campus to glance at me. “Going down that path will lead to nothing but trouble. It won’t matter if the guy deserves it. Coach will come down on you hard.”

“Yeah.” I’d known it was a bad idea as soon as I suggested it, but Tobie had been hurting. I barely know the girl, yet seeing her so upset and trying not to cry had made me want to pummel the ex.

A couple of cars are parked on the far side of the parking lot, but they must belong to security, or someone might have drunk a little too much and left their car here overnight. Most students walk through campus instead of driving to the arena and fighting for a parking spot.

Tobie Myers looked young enough to be a student. I kick myself for not asking more about her when I had the chance. If I hadn’t been gunning so hard for the ex, I might have taken the time to actually use my head.

“Do you think we should check out the dorms?” I ask. “She was carrying her shoes, so she has to live on campus, right? She’d have still been out here waiting for an Uber otherwise.”

Javier scratches his stubbled jaw. “We could.”

“But?”

His forehead creases. “Maybe she just wants to crawl into bed and forget all about tonight. After the thing with Daniela, all I wanted was to go someplace quiet and lick my wounds. Tracking her down and showing up at her door might not be what she wants.”

The breakup happened soon after Javier transferred to Lamont from Harvard. He’d been a first-year pre-med student and transferred to a major in biology.

Daniela, his ex, came to visit, breaking his heart to fucking pieces when she returned her engagement ring. He’d thrown himself into hookups to get over her.

I frown. “But she’s hurting.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants to talk to us,” he says.

We study each other.

When Javier’s lip twitches, he must be remembering what happened in the hallway.

“That was some scare she gave us,” I say with a smile.

“She made you scream.”

I shake my head. “No, my friend. That was not me screaming. Had to be Caleb.”

A door slams shut behind us.

“It was not me.” Caleb has his gym bag over his shoulder as he scans the parking lot. “Any sign of her?”

“What happened to practice?” A smile pulls on the corners of Javier’s mouth.

“Just here to make sure she gets home okay. That’s all.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You feeling okay? The last time you showed any interest in a woman was when your mom offered to come down and do your laundry.”

Javier laughs, and Caleb flips me off.

“She has to be a student here,” Caleb says. “I saw her face when you said it would be all over campus. If she weren’t a student, she wouldn’t have cared.”

I wince. Me and my big-fucking-mouth.

“We think so,” Javier says, glancing at me. “Quit feeling guilty.”

There are four dorms on campus.

She can’t be in Reynolds Hall. It’s the only athlete dorm, and we’d have bumped into her at least once over the last couple of years if she lived there. Jubilee Hall, closest to the academic buildings, is home to most freshmen and international students.

“Tobie looked around the same age as us, and she’s from Nebraska, so definitely not an international student. She has to be in Fisher or Montgomery. What do you think?” I ask the others.

Both are upperclassmen dorms unless she lives off campus. Then we’re fucked.

“Sounds like a plan,” Javier agrees, and Caleb nods.

“What did Coach want to talk to you about earlier?” Caleb asks as, by silent agreement, we leave the arena behind us and head for Fisher Hall, which is the closest.

“When?” I ask when I know exactly what he means.

He gives me a probing look that I return with a lazy smile. “You’re deflecting.”

“What I’m doing is trying to find the girl with the worst luck in the world,” I say, very much deflecting.

He stops and turns to face me. “You realize you can’t save everyone, right?”

“I’m not trying to save everyone.”

Just the few people who I have the power to. My teammates I regard as family after years of playing together. A beautiful stranger doing her best to hold back her tears after having her heart broken. And my brother, who gave up his future for me.

That’s all.

“Coach will agree,” Caleb says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie as I walk away.

Caleb grips my arm and yanks me back. He’s got his captain face on. “You want me to have a word with him?”

I lose a bit of my tension. Some things you’re scared to want in case the universe shits all over those dreams. This is one of those things.

I shake my head. “It’s not you who has to speak to him. It’s Ryder. And it isn’t just Coach who has to agree. The assistant dean has to agree as well, and Ryder doesn’t have his bachelors. That’s going to hurt him if there’s someone else who has one.”

“A degree isn’t mandatory,” Javier says. “Experience matters more. If Coach thinks he can do the job, he’ll get the assistant dean on his side. Degree or no degree.”

I’ve spent all year trying to get anyone to take a chance on my brother the way they took a chance on me.

Like most Division 1 teams, the Wolverines have the budget for two to three assistant coaches. We have a head coach, two assistant coaches, a trainer, physio, and team doctor. With how well we’ve been doing and all our new sponsorships, Coach told us they’re looking to take on a third assistant coach next year.

My brother would be perfect for that, I thought.

It’ll be easy, Reid, I told myself. Ryder loves hockey, and he loves to pass on his knowledge. Coach can see firsthand what Ryder’s teaching has done for me. Yet, here I am, still fighting a fight I thought I would have won months ago.

“It’ll be more likely to happen if your brother comes to speak to him himself,” Javier says.

“Which he won’t because he gave up one dream for me. He doesn’t want to believe this will happen after I’ve been trying for so long in case it doesn’t work out. I wouldn’t be the player I am without him.”

“Coach knows,” Javier says as we approach Fisher Hall. “But he needs to know your brother wants this too.”

It’s a catch-22. Trying to make my brother’s dream happen when he’s given up believing in dreams isn’t easy.

Like most dorms, during the day, there’s a visitors’ office you can buzz for someone to let you in. All students have keycards to get in the building, so unless we bump into Tobie, or we can convince someone else who lives in the dorm to let us in, we have no way of getting inside. And even if we got into the building, there’s like eight floors, and fuck knows how many students on each.

We need someone who knows Tobie to confirm she lives here.

A guy is heading to the building as we approach, eyes glued to his cell phone.

“Hey, man. We’re looking for a girl,” I call out.

He keeps walking. “Don’t know her.”

“I haven’t even told you her name,” I say.

“Whatever.”

Caleb grips him by the front of his shirt and lifts, sticking his nose in his face. “Her name is Tobie. Tobie Myers. She’s about five-foot-four, curvy, curly brown hair, hazel eyes, and wearing a blue dress. Probably carrying black sandals. She might have a concussion. Have. You. Seen. Her?”

The guy shakes his head, stutters out a ‘no,’ and the second Caleb releases him, he bolts to the building, fumbling with his keycard to open the door. He slams the door shut, peering through the glass as if to make sure we don’t follow.

“We hitting Montgomery now?” Caleb turns around, finds Javier and me staring at him, and stalks past us, muttering, “Stop looking at me like that. He was fobbing us off.”

“Like a hockey Terminator Jekyll and Hyde,” I whisper loudly.

“I heard that. Let’s go.” Caleb leads the way to Montgomery Hall, one of the older gray stone buildings on the edge of campus.

I grip Javier’s arm, slowing him down before he can catch up to Caleb. “I think he likes her.”

Caleb’s back stiffens slightly as he stalks ahead. “I don’t like her.”

“He did seem to be taking his sweet time with his hands in her hair,” Javier says, eyeing Caleb with interest. “I’ve seen him check for concussions, and I never saw him run his fingers through anyone’s hair like that before.”

“Because none of you guys have hair.”

The last time Caleb showed an interest in a woman was the beginning of our junior year before the weight of responsibility of team captain took over his life.

Javier will hook up with a girl to blow off steam. I occasionally do to have fun. It’s never a girl I’ve seen hanging around the arena in case she wants me more for what I am than who I am. And I always make it clear beforehand that I’m not looking for anything serious.

Caleb likes to take the weight of everything on his shoulders, because of his parents’ divorce when he was twelve. His dad stayed in Canada, and he saw it as his responsibility to look out for his mom and little brother since he was the oldest. Because of that overdeveloped sense of responsibility, if we lose the championship, he will never let anyone convince him it wasn’t his fault.

He should be back at the arena, needing to be pried from the building by the security at midnight, who likely regard the task as an unpaid part of their job with how frequently he’s been living on the ice.

Yet here we are, at… I glance at my watch… ten fifteen, and he’s marching ahead, choking out people who get in the way of his mission.

And he has made it his mission to track down Tobie Myers.

A smile stretches across my face. “She’s pretty. It’s okay to like her, you know? Liking a girl doesn’t mean you’re betraying hockey. You know that, right?”

Caleb doesn’t respond.

We spend fifteen minutes hanging around outside Montgomery Hall, waiting for someone to enter or leave so we can ask them about Tobie. When no one does, and more lights in the building flick off as students head to bed, Javier suggests we leave it until tomorrow.

She had a shitty night, and I can’t see her wanting to stay up late.

We walk back across campus to our dorm, and before we head up to our different floors, Caleb turns to face me. “I have a meeting with Coach in the morning. You and Jay can try again in the morning. Text me.”

He takes a few steps and stops, but he doesn’t turn around. “And remind her to get her head checked out,” he says, walking away before Javier or I can respond.

“Interesting,” I mutter.

“I heard that,” he yells back.

Laughing, I slap Javier on the shoulder. “Come to my room. We have things to discuss.”

Chapter 6

Tobie

Loud banging yanks me from sleep.

I peel my eyes open, dragging my glasses off my bedside table and slipping them onto my face. I squint at my alarm clock and tell myself I’m seeing things.

It’s Saturday morning.

Weekends are for sleeping in. For me, and I thought for students everywhere. Clearly not because someone is awake and banging on my door at eight in the morning.

Last night washes over me, and my stomach clenches.

The cheating.

The big screen humiliation.

Marc.

The bang comes again, and I get to my feet, belt on my bathrobe, and mentally prepare myself for a confrontation I’m already dreading.

I’m in PJs, and I haven’t brushed my teeth or hair. When I glimpse my reflection in the mirror beside my door, I make a face and look away, telling myself it doesn’t matter.

I take a deep breath, pull open the door, and blink when I come face to face with Reid and Javier, two of the hockey players from last night who should not remember I even exist. “Uh…”

Reid grins at me. “Morning. Can we come in?”

“How’d you find me?” I ask as they step around me.

“We knew you couldn’t be in Reynolds, or we’d have seen you. Didn’t think you were a freshman to be in Jubilee. So we hit up Fisher. No one knew you there, but we lucked out and bumped into a girl who knew you, so here we are in Montgomery,” Reid says as Javier sits at my desk and scans the books I have on the shelf above it.

I shouldn’t be keeping that many books up there after the last time I overloaded it and nearly broke my nose when it collapsed on top of my head.

I’m a reader of almost everything from fantasy to the classics, and I have more books packed into my room than I have space to store them. But I will always have a special place in my heart for a romance where the heroine gets a good railing. So, seeing Javier curiously eyeing those books makes me extremely nervous.

I’m still half asleep, so as I close my door, it takes me a second to process everything they did to track me down. “But why?”

“Revenge,” Reid says dramatically.

“Revenge?” I echo.

“Yep,” Reid says. “Jay and I discussed it. The fuckwit has to suffer. We intend to bring him down.”

I stare at them. “But why?”

“My ex, Daniela, cheated,” Javier says and puts down a book he was flipping through.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” What woman would cheat on this Brazilian god?

He waves off my apology. “We were together for three years, and our breakup was nothing like what happened to you. So that must have hurt. I get it, and I intend to help. And…”

“And?” I prompt.

Reid crosses his arms as he leans against the wall next to my illustrated Bridgerton poster of Daphne and Simon. “We need someone to take the heat off us.”

I blink at him. “What?”

Shit. I’m nowhere near awake enough to be having this conversation. I rub the sleep from my eyes and straighten, hoping it’ll make me feel more awake.

“We’re heading into the championships in a few weeks. Between final assignments and practice, we’re busier than we’ve ever been. We don’t need girls flinging themselves at us like they have all season.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with me?” I muffle a yawn.

“We need a girlfriend,” Reid declares.

Suddenly, I’m ‘just had a double shot of espresso’ wide awake.

I bounce my gaze between Javier and Reid. Then I look at the bed I’m not in because I’m standing, not sleeping, which means this is not a dream. “What…”

“We’re going to humiliate your ex, and you are going to be our girlfriend.”

“No one would buy that. You’re you and I… I’m me.”

Javier cocks his head as he studies me. “She hasn’t heard the rumors.”

I frown. “What rumors?”

“There’s talk of us being drafted into the same NHL team. That never happens. Ever. But it’s happening for us,” Reid explains.

I fight to keep focused. My eyes want to glaze over at this talk of sports, but this feels too important to pretend to listen. “So?”

“Have you heard about the Wolverines climbing the league over the last couple of years?” Reid asks.

I blink rapidly. “Um…”

Javier gives me a knowing look. “She’s trying not to fall asleep, Reid. Get to the point.”

I open my mouth to deny it, but it would be a lie, and I try not to do that. “Maybe you could give me the condensed version.”

Reid grins at me. “Win or lose the championship, teams have been sending scouts to watch us play since our sophomore year when Javier transferred here. The scouts have taken notice that every time all three of us are on the ice together, we make magic.”

That actually sounds interesting. I perk up. “Really?”

Javier nods. “The last time the Wolverines won the championship was seventy years ago. Now, everyone is saying it’s ours to win.”

Wow, that sounds like a big deal. I’d heard they were doing well, but not that well. No wonder Marc was talking about hockey more than usual.

“I don’t understand what that has to do with me,” I say.

“You are going to be our fake girlfriend. We’re so in synch on the ice, everyone will buy it,” Javier says.

I blink at him. “Dating the same girl?”

“Sharing her, if you will,” Reid says softly.

I look at my bed when I start sweating under my bathrobe.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Javier asks.

“Just making sure I’m not dreaming this,” I mutter. “I’m not in my bed, so this must be happening.”

Reid laughs. “It’s definitely happening. And the people who don’t believe it soon will. Once they’ve seen us together around campus, they’ll buy in to us sharing you.”

Something strange happens to my insides when he—they—say they will share me.

One girl shared by three hot hockey stars.

Wait.

“But Caleb…”

Javier lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Ah. Caleb doesn’t need a girlfriend the way we do. He needs a distraction.”

“A distraction?” I echo.

Me?

Reid crosses his arms. “On game day, it’s just him, the team, our opponents, and the ice. That’s it. Now, that focus isn’t just when he’s on the ice. It’s all the time. That’s not good for his ability to play well or his mental health. We need you to remind him a world exists outside of hockey.”

“I can’t do that,” I whisper.

“You can because you already did,” Javier says, eyeing me closely. “The Caleb we know would have told you to get checked out by a doctor, nudged you out of the door, and returned to the ice ASAP.”

Reid leans toward me. “This Caleb checked your head himself, stopped practicing to hear about your night of hell, and reminded us to tell you that you need to get your head checked out by a doctor. Have you done that yet?”

I blink at him. “Done what?”

Reid motions to my head. “Had your head looked at?”

“No. I’m fine.” Leaving my dorm today isn’t happening. Not for all the money in the world.

“Get it checked out.” Javier picks up a neon yellow Post-it notepad and a pen from my desk, writing something down on the pad.

“What are you doing?” I’m leaning toward him when Reid clears his throat.

Reid flicks his gaze down. I do the same and blush at how badly my robe is gaping. I might not have much in the boob department, but I have a dodgy top button and just enough boob to pop out if I’m not careful. I belt up. “Thanks.”

He nods. “Were those squirrels?”

“And acorns.”

He smiles at me. “Cute.”

I’d thought he would laugh. I’m a twenty-two-year-old college senior, and my favorite PJs have little squirrels and acorns on them.

“My number,” Javier says, setting the notepad and pen on my desk and getting to his feet. “If you want payback, call, and we can help each other out.”

“And if I want to get back together with him?” I don’t, but I’m curious about their response.

Reid smiles at me. “You deserve better than a guy who would treat you like that, Tobie Myers.”

They leave me alone with an unexpected offer, a phone number, my confused feelings, and I don’t know what to do about any of it.

When my phone vibrates, I pick it up and immediately break out in a cold sweat.

Marc

We need to talk.

I know this conversation has to happen, but a sick churn starts in my belly, and I’d love nothing more than to hide under my bed.

I can’t.

Not about this.

Face-to-face confrontation is hard. Text is easier. We are not having this conversation in public where people will see me ugly cry. He’s coming to me.

I type out my response.

Me

We can talk in the common room on my floor.

An hour later, I’m showered, dressed in sweats and a hoodie, and hanging out in the common room on my floor as I wait for Marc to show up. Luckily, with it being a Saturday, the girls on my floor are either out at the mall or sleeping off a Friday night hangover, so I have the room to myself.

Yes, we could have this conversation in my room, but I don’t want him in there again.

We had sex in my bed, and he told me he loved me numerous times there. I didn’t want a place I regard as my sanctuary to be where I have confirmation that my boyfriend of six years has been sleeping with another woman. This conversation is happening in the common room with a large wooden dining table and cozy, brightly-colored sectional sofas in front of a television hung on the wall.

As I wait, I pace from the dining table to the sofas, then to the window overlooking the quad, biting my already bitten nails to the quick as nerves eat me alive.

A small sound pulls my gaze from the window.

Marc stands in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets. He’s handsome, as usual, in blue jeans and a cream-colored sweater. His expression is one I’ve never seen before—closed off and so serious—and my heart clenches.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he says.

I cross the room to pick up the glass of water I poured to take my thyroid meds. If I drink from it, I’ll choke, so I hold it for something to do, conscious I should be screaming at him or demanding answers. Yet I look at him, and I just want to cry.

“Do you love her?” The words slip out before I can swallow them.

It’s not the question I should want answered first, but it’s the one I need. It’s stupid to hope the answer is yes. If he fell in love and couldn’t bring himself to tell me, it would still hurt, but not half as much as knowing he was screwing behind my back for the sake of it.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t know?

“Do you love me?”

His pause is even longer, and it breaks my heart when he says, “I don’t know that either.”

Surely, that’s something you know, right? I understand confusion about liking or not liking someone, depending on if they’d done something to piss you off that day. But love and hate? Those are pretty clear-cut, at least in my mind.

“I mean, you’re there,” he says vaguely.

“I’m there?”

“We’ve been together for a while,” he says, making me wish he had stuck with vague.

I struggle to believe how, in a few short words, he’s reduced me to a pair of old slippers. The girl he was with must be brand new Uggs, fresh from the store.

“Did you sleep with her?”

Marc stares down at me.

The longer he doesn’t answer, the more I hate myself for asking at all.

“More than once?”

“I’m not sure you want me to answer that, Tobie.”

“Because it’s been going on for a while, right?” My smile is bitter. “So long you were perfectly comfortable taking her to a hockey game.”

He says nothing.

“You don’t know if you love her, but you wanted to sleep with her and throw away six years with me, right?”

“Tobie…” He takes a step forward.

I step back, my fingers freezing as I curl them around the glass in my hand.

And I realize he hasn’t really answered any of my questions. That’s become a recent habit of his. Because it’s something he picked up while studying for his LSATs, and lawyers dodge direct questions, or he doesn’t care enough to give me the answers I need.

Now, more than ever, I hate that about him. Maybe I just hate him.

“Get out,” I say quietly.

He steps around the table, and I do something so un-Tobie I don’t even recognize myself. I throw my glass at his head.

He ducks, cursing as the glass smashes against the wall.

I don’t see it shatter. My eyes are full of tears.

By the time I’ve wiped away my tears, I’m alone.

He left.

I turn back to the window overlooking the quad. I’m still standing there as Marc walks away from my dorm and a blonde-haired woman approaches him.

I can’t see her face, but the bright platinum is familiar.

She was outside my dorm.

He actually told her to meet him right here.

The sound of laughter and footsteps in the hallway propels me into action.

I quickly clean up the water and broken glass and return to my room, closing the door behind me and locking it. And I stand there, staring at nothing as tears roll down my cheeks.

I can’t bring myself to leave this room.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

But I have to. Because if Marc was sleeping with another girl, and he was sleeping with me at the same time, how can I know if he was using a condom with her? I’m on birth control, and we used condoms most of the time, but we didn’t always.

I need to get myself checked out.

My gaze lands on the Post-it Note on my desk. I’m wearing my glasses, so I should be able to read Javier’s number on it from here, yet everything is blurry.

Brushing the tears from my cheeks, I unplug my fully charged cell phone and pick up the Post-it pad, dialing the number on it.

It rings twice. “Yeah?”

My fingers tighten around my phone. “I want revenge. I want it to be public, and I want him on his knees.”

Is it weird that I can tell Javier is smiling when he says, “We’ll be over at six.”

Chapter 7

Javier

“I’m not dropping out of the team, Mom.”

“You’ll be a better doctor than you will a hockey player, Javier,” she says.

No, Mom. I won’t.

She’s lived in America for over twenty years, but her accent has never faded. Unlike Vanessa and me, she was born in Brazil, moved to Boston, and met my dad, another first-generation Brazilian student, in college.

The first language I learned was Portuguese. When I started school, I spoke it less and less, my accent fading until I had to root around for so many forgotten words. Mom and Dad signed me up for lessons so I wouldn’t lose any more of my heritage.

For them, it’s different. Their identity is set in stone. All I’ve known, other than summers and occasional winters in Sao Paulo, is Boston.

“You were getting high scores in all your classes,” Mom says when I don’t respond.

“Yes, because you spent an inordinate amount of money on private tutors.” She sucks in a breath, but I speak before she can. “I have to go.”

“Practice?” Her voice is tight.

I recall Tobie from last night.

I hadn’t believed she would want revenge. Something about her sweet disposition and the tears she was holding back at the arena made me think she wasn’t the sort of person who would go looking for revenge on anyone. It’s why Reid had been getting ready to choke the ex out for hurting her. A girl like Tobie stirs a guy’s protective instincts, and I don’t know anyone who has more of those instincts than my friend.

Reid wants to protect her.

I want to help her through a pain I know all too well.

And Caleb, I don’t know what he wants, but he definitely wants something.

“Something like that. And you need to tell Daniela to stop texting me. I’m not interested. If you think I will⁠—”

“I’m not responsible for that.” She pauses. “So she wants you back…”

Alarm bells start blaring.

“No, Mom. I’m not getting into that.”

Even if she’s the nice Brazilian girl you want me to marry.

“But you⁠—”

“She wants a doctor, and I’m not going to be a doctor.”

“Listening to a dying man’s last words will be a mistake.” She sighs. “I know what he said, and I know what you think, but when you’re at that age, all you have is regret.”

“I don’t want to get to be ninety years old on my deathbed like vovô, wishing I did the thing that made me happy.” He was my grandfather on my mom’s side. The first person I ever lost. Three years later, it still fucking hurts.

She’s silent for a beat. “He wants you to live the life that he wanted to lead. But you have your own life to live.”

“Not if I’m busy living the life you want. I have to go.” I hang up before she can say anything else, tossing my phone on the bed as I head for my bathroom.

I had money before. Mom and Dad never struggled for money. Mom’s family had more of it, but Vanessa and I always had the best of everything—private schools, expensive tutors, marquees big enough to host three hundred, fully catered, and with a band for all our birthdays.

Then my grandpa died, and I didn’t have to worry about my parents cutting me off if I didn’t become the doctor they’d always wanted.

Life should be easy.

Anything I want is achievable with one swipe or tap of my credit card. Nothing is out of reach.

Yet I’m more miserable now than I’ve ever been.

I offered to pay back the tuition for my first year of pre-med so my parents wouldn’t feel like I threw that money away when I dropped out in my freshman year at Harvard and chose the life I wanted instead of the one they wanted for me.

They refused. They’d set up a trust to pay my tuition years ago, but I’m paying for this new life myself. The only thing I can’t buy is a way to please my family.

The sound of my phone vibrating across my bed chases me into the bathroom. I start the shower, step under the spray before it’s fully hot, and lower my head.

My phone is still vibrating when I step out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me, twenty minutes later. Except this time, I don’t reluctantly pick it up when I see who’s calling. I’m smiling as I answer. “Will you ever stop being the favorite child?”

“Stop being the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye?” Nessa snorts. “As if. What’d you say to Mom? She’s trying to worm her way into my life, and she only does that when she fails at worming into yours.”

“She’s pushing Daniela to text me.” She denied it, but I got my stubbornness from somewhere, and it wasn’t my dad.

“No,” my little sister says firmly. “She isn’t. Daniela has been blowing up my phone, wanting to know what she can say to get back into your good books. Did she find out about the inheritance? Will she turn black widow and sneak you a bunch of Viagra to steal all your money before falling for the hot but mysteriously young doctor who tried and failed to save your life? Dun dun, duuun!”

Her dramatic excitement draws a smile to my lips. “You have to stop watching those telenovelas, little sister. They are rotting your brain.”

She stumbled on them by accident. Stuck in bed after she had her tonsils out, she was bored out of her mind and went looking for a distraction when she came across a random Latin American channel, and her obsession was born.

“They’re like crack. Each scene is like watching a car crash in slow motion, and if I miss an episode, I might miss something important.”

I snort, but she’s right. I lost an entire afternoon to them, and I was reaching for the remote the next day to click on before I knew what I was doing. It took more effort than it should have to turn the television off and walk away. “Daniela can’t be a doctor’s wife who goes to lunch if I’m dead.”

My sister is silent. “You know, she did once love you.”

And once, I loved her.

“She loved the idea of being a doctor’s wife more. I have to go.”

“Javi?” Her voice is small.

I’ve never been Javier. To her, I’m always Javi. My smile is bittersweet. Boston isn’t too far from Pennsylvania—two hours by plane. But sometimes, it feels like we’re on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean with how little we see each other.

I remember when Mom and Dad brought her home. She was like a squirming little red-faced alien. I swore I would hate her forever for consuming so much of my parents’ time.

She had me wrapped around her little finger before she was two.

My baby sister means the world to me, and it’s been far too long since I’ve seen her.

“What is it, ferret breath?” I ask, still smiling.

“That will never be funny,” she says, but I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

“Yes, it will. And so will the fact you have these two big front teeth like beavers who need them to gnaw on the wood⁠—”

“Shut up.” She takes a breath. “I miss you.”

I miss her too. But going home has become an endless battle I’ve spent the last three years fighting. I’m tired, and I’m fed up trying to convince the people I love to let me do the thing I love most in the world.

I go home for the big holidays—Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Vanessa’s birthday. It’s not fair to my seventeen-year-old sister to have to mediate the countless arguments I get into with my parents if I go much more than that. So I stay away, stay at college to get ahead on my assignments, or take a short trip to Mexico to unwind when I need a change of scenery.

“I miss you too. Did you speak to Mom and Dad about the game?” When she’s silent, I lose my smile. “They won’t let you come.”

They used to bring Nessa to my games when I was younger, and were supportive when they were sure it was just a hobby. As soon as they realized it was what I wanted to do as a career, they shut their minds to the fact that it could be.

To them, hockey isn’t a real career, not like being a doctor or a lawyer is. To them, any person on the street could do it, and I’m throwing away all my potential on something that isn’t worth it.

“I’m working on it, Javi.”

I smile, though she can’t see me. “Don’t push, Nessa. It’s me they’re pissed at. You’ll stop being the favorite child if you don’t.”

“I don’t care about being the favorite child.”

“But I do.”

I’ve told my parents that I’d go pick up Nessa myself. I offered to pay for a private plane for her to visit me—and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve done that—but they torpedoed the idea every time. They don’t think a hockey game is the right environment for my little sister to be sitting alone, especially if I’m going to be on the ice.

She’s their little girl, and they’ve always been overprotective, more so after I stopped going home so much. They cling to her even harder, as if they suspect they’ve lost one child and can’t bear to lose another.

I have to choose.

I’ve avoided the decision so far, but I can’t avoid it anymore. Scouts have spent the last two years circling Reid, Caleb, and me. Agents, too, want a slice of that nice signing bonus and our first sponsorships the second we turn pro.

Coach has been tough. He doesn’t want any of us distracted by agents, so they’re expressly forbidden from the arena unless it’s to watch us play. The last thing he wants is for any of the team to have their heads turned by buckets of cash when we all need to be focused.

Even if we lose the championship, we’ll be drafted.

And I won’t have college as a reason—or an excuse—to avoid saying or doing what I need to.

If I choose hockey, I’ll lose my family, and if I choose my family, I’ll spend the rest of my life miserable as a doctor, which is what I don’t want, or working in the family packaging business, which I want even less.

“I have to go, sis.”

“I’ll be there, Javi,” she reassures me.

I struggle to believe her.

Chapter 8

Tobie

At exactly 5:55 p.m., there’s a knock on my door.

I check my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall and wince at my bloodshot eyes before opening my door.

“You’re early,” I greet the two hockey players who look freshly showered in sweatpants and hoodies.

Reid flashes me a grin as he walks in. “We’ve all heard Coach screaming at Brave enough for it to have a long-term effect on our punctuality.”

I frown. “Brave?”

“Paxton Edwards, center on the team. If he’s not late already, he’s on his way to being it.” Javier smiles as he enters. “We live in the same dorm, on the same floor. We often leave at the same time, and still, the guy is late. It’s like he gets sucked into a black hole on his way to wherever he’s going.”

I scrunch my nose. “I still don’t get it.”

“His nickname is Brave,” Reid says, sitting on my bed. “Takes a brave man to be late for Coach. And to do it repeatedly…” He shakes his head. “His nickname should’ve been suicidal.”

I move to close the door when a large, tanned hand holds it open.

I look up.

And up.

Caleb stares down at me.

Since only Javier and Reid stopped by my room this morning, I hadn’t believed he would be here.

I can’t keep staring at him and doing nothing. He’s going to think I’m an idiot. “Oh, I didn’t think you were coming.”

Caleb’s arm brushes against me as he enters, and his fresh sage and cedar scent briefly distracts me. “Reid convinced me this was in all our best interest,” he says.

“Convinced you. Yeah, right.” Reid snorts.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Forest-green eyes flick to my head. “You get that checked out?”

I clear my throat. “Uh, I was…”

After a quick trip to get myself checked out at the clinic, which, thankfully, all was good, I was crying under my sheets for the majority of the day. The redness of my eyes and my overall scruffiness probably attest to the fact that today, I just don’t care.

“I was busy,” I finish lamely.

He says nothing as he props himself against the wall.

I close the door and turn around to take in the three men occupying my room.

Reid has made himself comfortable on my bed, slipping off his sneakers before he sat on it, so I appreciate that.

Javier is back to sitting at my desk, flipping through the same book he picked up before.

A romance.

I try not to blush, and I don’t tell him to put it down because if I did, I have a strong suspicion that would only make him more interested in why.

And I specifically do not want or need him to get anywhere near page fifty-two.

Or 179.

Or…

I look away.

And my gaze clashes with a penetrating stare.

Caleb is leaning on the wall beside my closet, arms crossed, watching me. They’ve all studied me intently at various points over the last twenty-four hours, but none of them observed me with the focus that Caleb does.

As a freshman, my dorm room was so tiny I could barely bring anything with me from my small-town home in Lawrenceburg, a tiny dot on the map in Nebraska. I shared back then. There was no way I could afford a single room.

As a senior, the upperclassmen dorms are a little bigger and more expensive, but I’ve always worked over the summer. My dad works from home as a regional sales manager for a food processing company. Occasionally, the company takes on temp admin staff, so I’ll pick up a few hours doing that or serve food and drinks at the Lawrenceburg diner or bar, anything that puts a few extra bucks in my pocket. I’m not proud.

Outside of splurging on overpriced hockey game-day tickets, I’m frugal, so I could afford a private dorm room going into my junior year. With three men over six feet tall in it, they eat up all the space, and so I hover, not sure where I want to sit.

Reid pats the bed next to him. “There’s plenty of room over here.”

“Uh, I’m good,” I say, again making me think that Caleb is right, and I should get myself checked out for head injuries. That’s twice now I’ve refused to get closer to a hot guy.

“So, what happened?” Javier finally puts down the book he was flipping through, and I make a mental note to put it and others away if they ever come back here. “You didn’t seem like you were interested in taking us up on our offer.”

I carefully do not look any of them in the eye. “I’ve had enough humiliation to last a lifetime over the last twenty-four hours. Let’s just say it’s something unforgivable.”

Nothing like whispering to a nurse in a free clinic that your ex was sleeping with another woman and you don’t know if you have an STD. Her loudly repeating my request back to me in a packed waiting room was a humiliation unlike any other, and I thought the arena was bad.

And I still haven’t told my dad.

I sent him a text earlier, just a ‘run-of-the-mill, everything is good in Lamont, hope everything is good with you’ message. That won’t be enough. He will call and notice that everything is not good with me.

Dad and I are close. We’ve become closer after Mom died of pancreatic cancer, and we speak or text most days. He’s going to call and ask about Marc, and I’ll have to tell him we broke up and why.

Naturally, he’ll be upset and hurt for me, then angry. While I wouldn’t mind if he got a flight into town to punch Marc in the face for hurting me, I’d like to handle this on my own. I’ll tell him when I’m more composed because right now, all it’ll take is, “Everything okay, Junebug?” And I’ll dissolve into tears.

“We all have busy schedules,” Caleb says, watching me closely. “I have team captain responsibilities outside of studying and practice, and Javier is majoring in biology, so he has more classes than any of us. You’ll probably see more of Reid, but between us, we can make sure one of us is always with you. What’s your schedule?”

I’m a little taken aback by Javier studying biology, not that hockey players don’t study the sciences, but I was expecting something a little less cerebral from a jock. “Pretty light. It’s uh…” I point at my class schedule pinned to the corkboard above my desk.

Javier looks at me. “Mind if I take a pic?”

I shake my head, watching as he fishes his cell phone from his pocket and takes a picture of my schedule. “I’ll share it with Caleb and Reid if you don’t mind?”

Again, he looks at me for permission. “Go for it.”

“And your cell?” Javier asks.

I reel off my number.

He taps it into his phone, saying, “I’m sending it to the others and sending you ours.”

When all our phones vibrate as Javier finishes sharing our numbers and my schedule with Reid and Caleb, I guess we’re really doing this.

This fake dating…

Situation?

Bet?

Experiment?

I have no clue what it is, but we’re doing it.

“Why’d you need my schedule?” I ask a question that if I were with it, I’d have asked before I let Javier take a picture of it.

“Your ex will know when you have free periods and days off, right?” Reid asks.

“So?”

“And you know when his free periods and days off are?” Javier asks.

I nod.

Reid sandwiches his fingers together. “Then we put the two together. He needs to see you with us and often. Does he go to any parties?”

“No…” Then I remember the arena. “But he was lying about going to hockey games by himself, so what do I know?” My voice is bitter.

“There’s a party at one of the biggest frat houses tomorrow night,” Caleb says.

I swear there’s a party every night of the week on fraternity and sorority row, and I’ve heard they can be wild. Going to one is enough to break me out in hives, but I agreed to this. “So?”

“If he goes to it, great. If he doesn’t, then whatever happens at those parties usually gets spread around campus pretty quickly. It’s a good opportunity to kick this off,” he says.

Reid eyes him closely. “You don’t go to parties.”

“I have better things to do with my time,” Caleb says.

It’s a relief to hear I’m not the only one who dodges parties like the plague.

Reid’s lips twitch. “All that’s missing is the slippers and the pipe before bed.”

Caleb doesn’t take his eyes off me. “The sooner people start seeing us together, the sooner girls can leave us alone to focus on what matters.”

“The championship,” I say.

He nods. “Practice at the rink usually draws a few girls. Some are fine. They’re dating other players, and they know the deal. Others sneak in or don’t seem to understand they’re a distraction. With you there, they’ll stop distracting me and us.”

He says it like people will buy our relationship. They won’t.

“No one is going to believe you’re interested in me,” I say.

It might work if it was just one of them, but three hot hockey players dating me?

“Maybe not at first.” Javier stands, and I jump when he gently nudges me aside so I’m not blocking the closet. “May I?”

Confused, I nod, and he opens my closet and leans in. “She needs more clothes.”

“What?”

He pulls his head out to look at me. “These are fine for class, but we need your ex to take one look at you and forget how to use his words.”

“An outfit like that doesn’t exist.” The words slip out before I can silence them.

He looks down at me for the longest moment, and his gaze softens. “It’s not about the clothes… it’s about the woman.”

I blink at him, surprised. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” He nods firmly.

“We’re going shopping tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock. Reid and I will meet you outside your dorm. If you have any plans in the afternoon, cancel them. We’re going to be busy all day.”

I mentally cancel my plans to cry under my covers.

“So you’re going to put me in short skirts and low-cut tops,” I say, with a bite to my voice.

Why should my clothes be the thing that convinces Marc he made a mistake cheating on me instead of him realizing he did something wrong?

Why do I have to be the one who changes?

“What do you want?” Caleb asks before Javier can respond.

I shake my head. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want? To make him jealous? To get back together with him? Humiliation only? What exactly do you want to get out of this?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “To hurt him the way he hurt me. Revenge.”

Caleb cocks his head. “And, if during the course of this revenge, he decides he has to have you back? What then?”

After what he did? “I don’t want him back.”

“But if he went to his knees, pleaded for you to take him back, and apologized from the depth of his soul. What then?” Reid asks.

I laugh. “He wouldn’t do that. You don’t know Marc like I do. He wouldn’t go to his knees for anyone.”

“But if he did?” Reid insists. “You were together for six years.”

“He won’t.”

The three men filling my room silently study me. They don’t believe me. I’m not sure why they’re convinced Marc will want me back. Whatever it is they see, I sure as hell don’t.

“The championship is weeks away,” Javier says, watching me so closely it’s like he can peer into my heart and read my doubt. “Can you see yourself doing this for that long?”

I’m not sure.

Maybe other girls would eagerly embrace the idea of fake dating three hot hockey players, but that is going to come with attention I neither need nor want. Especially when my heart hurts, and all I want is to crawl into a soft, dark space and escape the sense that I was the one to fuck things up with Marc.

That I wasn’t pretty or interesting enough or into hockey like he was.

That something I did chased him away, and I’ll chase away the next guy I let into my heart.

I clear my throat. “And if my ex decides he wants me back?”

“Then you have a decision to make,” Reid says. “This can stop whenever you want it to.”

“But what about your part of the deal?”

Can I see myself chasing off the girls who distract them during practice and doing something about Caleb’s laser focus on the championship that threatens his mental health and potentially his body?

Uh, no. I don’t see that happening.

“We’ll handle it.” Reid gets to his feet. “If you’re not comfortable with this, then this ends.”

“And if you’re not comfortable with this?” I ask.

Reid’s smile is impossible to decipher. “That won’t happen. Oh, and you might need this.” Reid fishes a keycard from his pocket and hands it to me.

I frown as I take it. “Your keycard?”

“In case you need to get into our dorm. We’re all in Reynolds. Different floors, though. I have a spare in my room so you can keep that,” he says.

Javier picks up his phone. “I’m sending you a text with our room numbers.”

“Why would I need to know that?” I frown.

“You’re our new girlfriend. It’s going to be suspicious if you don’t know where we live, right?” Caleb asks.

“Right.” I cross over to my desk and rummage through a drawer, then hand Javier my spare keycard to get into the building. “Here’s mine. I only have one spare.”

“Don’t need more than this,” Javier says, pocketing it. “We can share.”

God. There’s that word again.

Share.

It makes me tingly every time I hear it.

“I, uh…” My voice trails off as they all look at me.

Surprisingly, none of them tell me just to get out whatever it is I’m hesitating over.

“Sometimes I have bad days,” I tell them, picking my words carefully.

Reid grins at me. “Yep. Us too.”

“I have Hashimoto’s disease,” I tell him, avoiding all their gazes. “It’s an autoimmune disorder, and it means there might be days that I can’t be what you need me to be.”

“Our needs are fluid,” Caleb says. “Mainly they involve us making this up as we go along. What do your bad days look like?”

My condition doesn’t steal large chunks of my day the way it used to. My daily thyroid meds help a lot in managing my symptoms.

“I can’t eat fast food, at least not all the time. So if we have to eat out, it’s probably something you should know about me. If I don’t get enough sleep, it can trigger a flare-up, which means I won’t be out playing fake girlfriend. That’s, uh… part of the reason I was never a big partier.”

“So, a flare-up is a bad day?” Reid asks.

It feels a little—scratch that, a whole heap more than a little—strange to be opening up about my symptoms and condition to literal strangers like this. But what is so surprising to me is how actively they’re all listening.

“Fatigue mostly. Feeling like garbage, muscle aches, my bones feel so heavy, and sometimes it’s like I can’t lift my head. Reducing my gluten can help slightly, but not enough that I would give up pasta for it.” Reid opens his mouth. I keep talking. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or…” My voice tails off under his smile. “What?”

“I was going to ask if there’s anything we can do when you have these flare-ups,” Reid says. “You know, to help?”

I blink at him, surprised by how accepting he is about this aspect of my life.

I shake my head. “Just rest and keeping up with my meds.”

“Well, if there’s anything you think can help, let us know,” Javier says with a smile. “Thanks for being so open. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was surprisingly easy. Thanks for listening.” And I mean it.

As Reid and Javier leave, I hope I’m not making a big mistake, and this revenge mission won’t blow up in my face, causing more humiliation I don’t need.

“I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow morning,” Caleb says to Reid and Javier when they linger in the hallway.

Considering Javier told me to be ready to hit the mall at nine, I don’t even want to know what time they intend to hit the gym.

Reid and Javier glance at him and walk away, Reid smiling slightly as he nudges Javier.

I turn to say goodbye to Caleb, but he hasn’t moved. He’s still leaning against the wall, arms crossed, peering down at me.

And we’re alone.

In my bedroom.

All thoughts tumble right out of my head.

Chapter 9

Tobie

“Uh, are you waiting for something?” I ask while holding the door open.

“I’m waiting for you to put shoes on.”

“Because?”

“I’m taking you to see Doc about your head.”

He’s really serious about this. “But my head is fine.”

“Then it shouldn’t take long for Doc to confirm it. He’s used to seeing concussions.”

He waits.

Letting go of the door, I stuff a pair of sneakers on and turn to leave.

He scratches the back of his neck. “You have a coat?”

I blink.

“It’s cold,” he says gruffly, not meeting my gaze.

Beneath that big, gruff, sexy exterior lies the heart of a softy. With how bruised and battered my heart is, I’ll take all the soft I can get.

I pick up my coat and put it on, dipping my head so Caleb misses my smile.

I’m reaching for the door when he beats me to it, holding it open. “Thanks.”

He nods like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing to me.

I’m locking my door when I notice we’re not the only ones in the hallway.

The building is mixed, but there are girls or boys on each floor.

Lisa is staring in my direction. I’m not sure if the redheaded junior majoring in music was coming or going since she’s wearing her coat and has her keys in her hand.

“Hi, Lisa,” I call out.

Her eyes slide from Caleb to me and back again. Without a word, she opens her door and walks inside after another long look at Caleb. Seconds later, I hear muffled voices from behind her door.

I turn to Caleb. “Do you usually have this effect on girls?”

“Yes,” he says, perfectly serious. “You ready to go?”

The same thing keeps happening on our walk across campus toward the arena. Girls stare at him, then at me, then at him again like they’re working out an equation, and it doesn’t make sense, so they have to recheck their work.

I get it.

They’re wondering what he sees in me.

Maybe the staring will stop when Javier has turned me into the sort of girl a guy would want.

“Is something wrong?” Caleb asks.

I snap my head toward him. “Why would something be wrong?”

“You’re tense.” He studies me for a beat. “As tense as you were watching Javier with that book he picked up.”

I have to hide that book the next time those guys come to my room. They cannot know about page 179. I’d never be able to look them in the eye.

“You’re blushing,” he says, his eyes sharpening. “Why?”

I immediately look away. “No reason. I thought the doctor was in another building.”

After a probing look, he says, “He’s just our doc, so he has a small clinic in the arena.”

Lamont University wasn’t my first choice, but Marc and I were high school sweethearts from Lawrenceburg, our tiny Nebraska hometown. We spent years mapping out our future together.

After grad school, he was going to be an attorney at his dad’s practice, and I was going to be the town librarian. By the end of my first year of majoring in library science, I realized I’d made a mistake.

Meeting the professors, seeing them teach, and remembering how rewarding tutoring had been in high school was all I could think about. Even now, I still think about it.

I didn’t want to teach in my old school. I wanted to be somewhere I could decide who I wanted to be instead of October Myers, the quiet and studious girl everyone called Tobie, whose mom died when she was in the eighth grade and whose dad never remarried.

I might regret my major, but I don’t regret coming to Lamont.

There’s a direct flight to Nebraska, so going home is relatively straightforward, and the campus isn’t overwhelmingly massive. Gravel tracks weave around pretty gray stone buildings, and there is enough greenery that it’s soothing and calm, even though we’re in a city.

I glance up at a building I swore I would never set foot in ever again. It looks closed, which I guess makes sense with most of the team’s games happening on a Friday or Saturday night. “And you’re sure he’s still here?”

“It’s Division 1. Everyone always works late.”

He holds the arena door open for me after swiping a card he pulls from a lanyard around his neck. I thought jocks were all hard, partying womanizers, but Caleb seems nice. A little gruff but nice. I trail him inside, and he leads the way to a door that requires another swipe of his card to enter.

After a short walk down a white hallway with corkboards jampacked with notices, he knocks on a door with a silver sign on it—Dr. Douglas Andersen (Team Doctor).

“Doc, you got a minute?”

“Come on in, Caleb. Tight muscles again?” An older man asks as Caleb twists the handle and opens the door.

“Not for me. It’s for…” Caleb looks at me like he’s struggling to find a word to describe me. “Tobie. Tobie Myers. She fell the other night and has a bump on the back of her head. It could be a concussion.”

“Does she have a headache?”

Caleb glances at me.

I shake my head. “No. I feel okay.”

The door opens a little more, and I catch a glimpse of the doctor. He’s an older man who looks to be in his mid-fifties, sitting behind a large walnut-brown desk. He has salt-and-pepper hair, a smooth jaw, clear blue eyes, and enough lines around them that I know they’re not just a result of old age but from smiling often.

“Usually, we know pretty soon if it’s a concussion. You’re standing, have no headache, and you’re not green,” he says.

“I was a little dizzy before. It went away quickly, but Caleb said it was important to get checked out.”

“Can’t hurt to double-check these things. Hop on the table, if you won’t mind, and take off your glasses.” He gets to his feet. I thought being a doctor, he’d be wearing a white coat, but he’s in black sweatpants and a navy Wolverines’ sweatshirt.

Caleb parks himself against the wall, those powerful arms folded as I perch on a black leather examination table I hadn’t seen from the door. I slide my glasses off my face and place them beside me, my world instantly blurry.

He does a similar, but more thorough, exploration of the back of my head. “I feel it. Can you follow my finger with your eyes?” He lifts his index finger, and I track it as he moves it from left to right. When he nods, I assume all is well. Then he picks up a small torch from his desk. “Mind if I briefly blind you?”

“Go for it.”

He shines his torch into both eyes and hums. “Pupils are fine. Head is fine. That lump should go down in a day or two. If not, come back and see me. You’re a little dented, Miss Myers, but nothing is broken.”

I smile as I put my glasses back on. “Thanks, Doc.”

“How’d it happen?”

I glance at Caleb, who tilts his head, as interested in my answer as the doctor is. He knows I knocked myself out in the bathroom stall, but I will never reveal the utter stupidity of what led to it. That shit is going to my grave.

“Uh, just by accident. A freak accident.”

“Well, be careful out there. Here.” Doc offers me a red, plastic-wrapped lollipop with a flourish.

“Thanks.” I glance at Caleb as I take it. “Doesn’t he get one?”

Doc returns to the other side of his desk and the stack of papers we must have distracted him from. “When he takes a day off. Has that happened yet?” he asks Caleb as he pulls his chair to the table.

Caleb straightens. “Let’s go, Tobie.”

Doc mutters something as Caleb leads me out of the room. Just before the door slams closed, he shouts, “That’s a doctor’s order. Take a day off.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile as Caleb scowls into the distance. “Come on.”

“That’s a first.”

He glances down at me, his eyes snagging on my lollipop as I peel the plastic off. “What?”

“A doctor ordering you to take a day off. And this.” I lift my lollipop. “My doctor never gave me one.”

“Not even as a kid?”

“Nope. Think he had a thing about sugar.” I offer him the lollipop. “Here. You should have it. You’re the one who brought me to get checked out.”

As he shakes his head, his eyes dip to my lollipop, making me think he does want it. “It’s yours, Myers. And those are bribes. Doc thinks if he has candy, it’ll encourage us to go see him for all our ailments instead of ignoring them.”

“Does it work?”

“Only with one of us.”

I pause before stepping out of the arena door he holds open for me. “Myers?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I get used to calling everyone by their last name.”

“I don’t mind.” It feels like a nickname, and no one ever gave me one of those before.

As we walk back across campus, I do my best to ignore the female stares as I lick my lollipop. I try even harder to ignore the occasional look I feel from the six-foot-four hockey god that is Caleb Boucher walking so close beside me, our shoulders brush.

Hoping I’m not drooling everywhere, I cast a surreptitious glance his way.

And catch his eyes on my mouth.

“Did you want a lick?”

“No!” he blurts out, wrenching his head away, saying gruffly, “It’s yours, Myers.”

I kick myself.

What am I? Five? Offering him a lick of my lollipop.

Of course, he’s going to say no. What guy would say yes?

“You don’t have to walk me back to my room,” I tell him, embarrassed.

“Yes, I do.”

Because of this fake-date thing?

It’s barely even started, and already it’s working. Within moments of stepping out of my room with Caleb, Lisa was staring. Surely, it’s only a matter of time before Marc finds out that the girl he cheated on is hanging out with hockey players.

Not just hanging out.

Dating three of the guys responsible for the team about to win their first championship in seventy years.

And he loves the team. Never misses a game.

This is going to eat him alive.

My cheeks are still burning by the time Caleb has walked me up the two flights of stairs to my floor, and almost every girl finds a reason to step into the hallway as I unlock my door. Cindy is standing outside holding a dustpan and brush. She’s literally just holding it as she rubbernecks for all she’s worth. I’d laugh if it weren’t so ridiculous.

“See you tomorrow, Tobie,” he says softly.

I’d ask if he’s coming to the mall, but with a dozen eyes spearing us from all directions, now doesn’t seem the time to get into the specifics of our fake relationship.

I smile. “See you tomorrow, Caleb.”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking to my lips. My fingers tighten around my lollipop, and I hold my breath because is he seriously going to kiss me like we just returned from a date?

He nods firmly, then backs up and walks away.

Yes, I check out his ass, but so does every girl on my floor.

The second the staircase door slams shut, Maxine, or Max, because she will murder anyone who calls her Maxine, comes out of nowhere and tackles me into my room so hard I drop my lollipop.

“Spill. No word is unimportant, Tobie Myers. All of it. I need to know everything.”

Chapter 10

Tobie

“You asked Caleb Boucher to lick your lollipop?” Max breathes, her expression an equal mix of shock, excitement, and anticipation.

I press my palms to my hot cheeks. “I did.”

She leans closer. “And did he?”

“Of course he didn’t,” I snap, still embarrassed. “Only five-year-olds share candy. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Her expression is thoughtful. “He was looking at your mouth.”

“Probably wishing he had his own lollipop.”

“Or maybe picturing your mouth around his⁠—”

I smack her with a cushion from my bed. “No. We are not having this discussion. I have to look him in the face, and I can’t if you finish that sentence.”

She laughs. “And Javier had that smutty book you were reading?”

“Yes, which reminds me, I need to hide it.” I move to get up.

“Nope.” She yanks me back on the bed and springs to her feet, plopping down on my desk chair to pick up my book. “I’m going to tab the relevant pages for him.”

I scrunch my nose. “Why?”

She reaches for my Post-it notes. “So he knows the things you like.”

I blush. “What makes you think I like those things?”

“Because all girls like those things. I’m doing it. I bet Javier ‘the Casanova’ Duarte would deliver a ten out of ten performance.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, and true to her word, she flicks through the book and starts sticking hot pink tabs to the pages.

“The Casanova?” I repeat.

“It’s the accent.” She lifts her head, auburn bangs falling into her dark blue eyes. She shakes her hair back and continues, “He could read me a shopping list, and I’d orgasm on the spot. You should totally sleep with them, Tobie.”

I stare at her. “What?”

She sticks another tab in my book, and I have no clue why I’m not stopping her. I must be more into this idea than I want to admit.

“Look. Revenge is all well and good, but you need to have a good time. If the opportunity arises, you should embrace it. Live in the moment. YOLO.”

“They are not going to want to sleep with me, Max. This is more of a business relationship.”

She snorts. “Yeah, tell that to Caleb Boucher, who was having impure thoughts while staring at your mouth.”

I arch my eyebrow. “Impure thoughts?”

“I was raised Catholic. What else would you call thinking about having a girl⁠—”

“Max…” I warn her.

She lifts her hands, palms to me. “I promise not to say the words, but I am definitely thinking them. And so were you to freak out and ask him to lick you.”

“My lollipop,” I tell her, blushing. “Not me. My lollipop.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that what you were thinking?”

Snorting, I shake my head. “He was probably hungry. Maybe he was jealous the doctor didn’t give him a lollipop.”

She stops tabbing my book’s spicy chapters to look at me, and she’s surprisingly serious. “You always sell yourself short.”

“No, I don’t.”

But she’s right. I do.

Since there was no way I could lie about something this big, I told her about Marc cheating and the guys’ offer—revenge on Marc in exchange for me clearing away the girls who flock around them, distracting them from the looming championship.

There was no way she’d have thought three hot hockey players would suddenly be obsessed with me.

“You do. You dress like an old lady.”

“Hey!” I yell, outraged. “I do not dress like an old lady.”

“Okay, maybe that was a little harsh,” she concedes. “But you cover up all the time. You go to extreme lengths to hide everything but your ankles. They’re pretty ankles, but you’re twenty-two. You need to be showing more than your ankles at twenty-two, Tobie.”

“I have rolls, Max. My body shape is awkward.” Hers is athletic. She runs. I don’t. And even if I did spend more time hitting the gym, I’ve always found it painfully hard to lose weight—a symptom of Hashimoto’s I hate with every fiber of my being.

“You’re curvy.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Why do people always say that like it’s a good thing?”

It’s not a good thing to have small boobs and big hips. I’m a human triangle, which makes shopping a pain because, other than wearing all black, baggy clothes, or the occasional wrap dress, I have never found something that flatters me.

I point an accusatory finger at her when she opens her mouth. “If you tell me I have curves in all the right places, so help me God, I’ll smack you with a cushion.”

A smile cracks her face. “You’re spicy.”

I blink at her. “I’m what?”

She gestures at me. “Ever since Marc cheated and the Magic Three entered your life, you’ve gotten spicy.”

“Magic Three?”

“When they step on the ice together, they make magic, blah blah blah, yadda yadda.” She snaps the book shut and puts it on my desk. “Passion. That’s what is important here. Passion is what you need and what Marc didn’t give you. He was as stale and dry as one of his law books.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

She raises her eyebrow.

I blow out a sigh. “I didn’t mean to defend him. But he wasn’t.”

Or he didn’t use to be.

We did more together in high school—went out on dates, things like that. This year and most of our junior year, he started pulling away from me. I thought it was the stress of studying and the pressure of getting into a good law school, but maybe that wasn’t it.

He looked happy at the hockey game. He was laughing and smiling with the blonde girl he cheated on me with, so that side of him was still there. Just not when he was with me.

“It wasn’t your fault, Tobie,” Max says softly as she flops on the bed beside me. “He was the fuck-up here, not you.”

“Maybe he thought I was boring. You’re right. I do dress like an old lady, and I never go out anywhere.”

“Because he never took you anywhere.” She takes my hand and squeezes. “Even if he thought you were boring, which, side note, you’re not, he should have had the decency to break up with you if he wanted to be with someone else, not go behind your back. That is grade-A tool behavior, and he deserves public humiliation after what he did to you.”

“But it was my fault I fell.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she says, glaring. “It was his fault for cheating. Did he even come after you to check you weren’t hurt?”

“Well, no.”

“He just swanned off with Little Miss Blondie, and I bet…”

I walked home to my dorm room. It was a long walk. My head hurt, and I was heartsick.

I tried convincing myself I was wrong about Marc, and I’d find him waiting outside my room, ready to tell me he and the blonde were study buddies and the kiss was just a performance for the kiss cam.

But he wasn’t there.

I plugged my dead phone in and waited for him to call.

He didn’t call because he didn’t care.

My boyfriend kissed another woman on a kiss cam, watched me fall down the stairs, and didn’t even have the courtesy to send a text to check I got home okay.

Even Caleb Boucher, a veritable stranger, took me to his team doctor because he was concerned I had a concussion. He didn’t even see me hurt myself. Marc, my boyfriend of six years, did.

I smile as I listen to Max’s endless rant about Marc’s failings. For a guy she didn’t know all that well or hang out with that often, the list is long and detailed.

She glances at me. “What’s with the smile? Are you imagining pushing him down a flight of stairs?”

I give her a one-arm hug. “No. You’re a good friend, Max. I didn’t realize how good until now. Thanks.”

“No,” she says quietly. “I haven’t been. You’re graduating soon, and we should have gone out more. I wanted to this year, but…”

I take her hand and squeeze. “You’re an athlete, which means you’re busy. I get it.”

Max is busier as a junior than I ever have been as a senior.

“We’ll do something tonight,” she suggests.

“You run laps at night,” I remind her.

“Not tonight.” She pulls out her cell phone. “I’ll order us takeout, and we’ll watch a movie. Something funny.”

“I’d like that.”

“And what I said before,” she says seriously. “About YOLO.”

“What about it?”

She gives me a probing look. “It’s about having fun with who you want, not about hooking up with any old douchebag and me living vicariously through you because I don’t have a life.”

“You have a life.”

“Athletics is my life, but it shouldn’t be my whole life. I haven’t heard anything bad about the Magic Three, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t potential secret douches. Any sign of douchey behavior, you quit this fake-dating revenge mission, and kick them down the nearest flight of stairs, okay? Or I will.”

I laugh. “Kind of hard to do when they’re all over six feet tall.”

She lifts her chin. “I’ve been working on my quads this semester. I could do it.”

“You should hook up with one of them,” I suggest, though I secretly hope she says no. They’re not my boyfriends, at least, not for real, but I’m not sure I want to share them.

She shudders. “I don’t touch hockey players.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. What food do you want?” She lowers her head and starts scrolling on her phone.

“Anything is fine.” I try not to eat too much fast food, and I never miss my morning thyroid meds. While gluten or fast food isn’t a trigger for me like it can be for others, I do feel better when I don’t eat crap all the time.

Not sleeping properly and stress have always been my biggest triggers for flare-ups.

I eye her bent head, curious about her evasiveness.

I always wondered why Max opted out of living in the athlete dorms. Reynolds Hall has a lot more amenities than any other dorm—a gym, bigger rooms, a separate dining room with better, or at least healthier, food than the campus dining room, and it’s quieter.

She was dating someone in her freshman year, and they broke up in her sophomore year. That’s all she’s ever told me. From the way she blew up about Marc cheating, I suspect I know why they’re no longer together.

“How about Thai?” Max suggests, lifting her head. “They have those summer rolls with peanut sauce you like, and we can share a couple of curries.”

“Sold. And about the guys…”

She perks up.

“I’m not sleeping with them, but I will try to have fun. Any douchey behavior will be rewarded by a swift, steep, and painful fall.”

She nods. “And if you want to talk about Marc…”

“I don’t want to talk about Marc.”

I gave her the CliffsNotes version of everything that happened, but I’m not sure I’m ready to dig deep into my feelings about a betrayal I never saw coming.

“Well,” she says, watching me closely. “I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks.”

“Now.” She relaxes on my bed and pops open the can of Diet Coke I offered her before I spilled all my secrets. “Tell me the part again about you scaring the shit out of the Magic Three in the arena. I’m putting my money on Reid being the screamer.”

Chapter 11

Tobie

When only Javier and Reid show up bright and early at nine the next morning, I assume Caleb decided he couldn’t even pretend to date me.

“He’s having a meeting with Coach about some plays we’re working on,” Reid says when he catches me looking for him as we head to the parking lot for our shopping trip.

They’re both in jeans and tees. So am I. Yet they look like they stepped out of a fashion magazine, while I look like I got dressed in the dark.

When a group of girls glances our way, I slow my steps, veering to the right to open up a space between us. I shouldn’t even know guys that hot. Those girls know it. So do I.

Two seconds later, Reid and Javier are back to walking close by my side like they don’t even notice all the stares we’re attracting.

“No one is blaming him for the missed shot, so he’s determined to do all the blaming himself,” Javier explains.

I’ve never heard of someone so good at what they do being so hard on themselves. Maybe some of that is because he’s the captain.

“The championship means that much to him?” I ask as we approach a matte black BMW.

“Only everything he’s ever wanted,” Reid says.

Javier unlocks the BMW and holds the passenger door for me as I reach to open the back. No one opens doors for me. Javier does it automatically.

“I don’t mind sitting in the back,” I say. “Reid has longer legs than me.”

“Reid gets the back,” Javier says. “Pretty girl gets the front.”

“What he said.” Reid gets into the back.

I slide in, nervous about this shopping trip I’m already dreading. The mall is hell on earth on the weekend.

Always.

“This is going to be fun,” Reid says as Javier pulls out of the parking lot.

“The mall on a Sunday?” I twist around to face him. Is he insane?

He grins at me as he gleefully rubs his hands together. “This revenge mission. Your ex is going to see you around campus happy, laughing, having the best time in the world, and he’s going to start thinking why couldn’t I make her that happy? How come I couldn’t put that glow on her cheeks?”

“He is?” I blink at him.

His smile grows. “It’s going to be even more fun than punching him in the face would have been.”

“You wanted to punch my ex in the face?”

“I talked him out of it.” Javier changes gears. “Not that he didn’t deserve it, but Coach would come down hard on him for fighting.”

Right.

“Oh.” I study Reid, then Javier some more. “So, this party tonight…”

“What about it?” Javier asks, driving past the exit for the mall.

Did he miss the turning?

Should I tell him?

When I glance at him, he doesn’t look lost.

“Will I, uh… have to talk to people at it?” As questions go, it’s probably as stupid as they get. A frat party is going to be swimming with other jocks and the popular students. The ones who are confident, beautiful, and everything I’m not. I’ll be stepping into a whole new world, and it terrifies me.

To my surprise, Javier smiles at me. “You sound like Caleb.”

“I do?”

Javier makes the next turn, and the nice mall comes into view. I didn’t think we’d be coming here, but from his car, I don’t know why I’m surprised he would shop here.

There are two big malls in town. The big indoor one where there is never enough parking on a weekend for ordinary mortals like me.

Then there is the nice mall, which is a perfectly air-conditioned, mostly outdoor haven with not a hint of trash on the sidewalk. It’s an oasis for those with money to burn in the mostly designer boutiques. It even smells expensive. I’ve only been to the nice mall once. One visit was enough to learn my budget stretched to a pair of socks or maybe a hair clip.

“On the rare occasion we’ve pried him out of his room or the rink, he will park himself in a corner and glare at anyone who comes near him. If you don’t want to talk to anyone at the party, stick by him, and that glare will chase off everyone,” Javier explains.

That glare sounds magnificent.

“Really?” I ask hopefully, then shake my head. “No. You’re just saying that to make me feel better about this party.”

Javier and Reid laugh.

Javier parks, and my nerves are tight as we approach a boutique.

It’s ‘the fancy, all white, only a handful of clothes on rails’ store that you know everything you pick up will give you a heart attack when you see the price tag. Hell, I bet this store doesn’t even have price tags. You go to pay at the counter and have your heart attack there.

I’m hyperconscious of my unwashed hair, lack of makeup, and the baggy clothes I practically live in.

Javier is confidence personified as he strides to the door as if he belongs, holding it open for me. Reid is smiling and relaxed. This feels like it’s their world, even though it’s a women’s store.

I’ve had countless shopping trips where I’d go home empty-handed because nothing I tried on looked as good on me as it did on the hanger. We haven’t entered the store yet, and I’m already feeling defeated.

The store is quiet this early, and I release a sigh of relief when out of the two women at the counter, a blonde and a brunette, it’s the blonde, an older woman who looks to be in her late thirties or early forties with a trim figure who approaches with a warm smile.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

I open my mouth, but Javier beats me to it. “Javier Duarte. We’re here for a new wardrobe for Tobie. I called earlier.”

He called?

Wait. A new wardrobe?

The woman smiles. “Perfect. If you’ll follow me.”

I thought the service in a fancy store like this would be cold and impersonal, but her smile is genuine. She leads the way through the store. By the time I’m asking about where we’re going, we’ve already arrived, and the woman is drawing a curtain closed, so it’s like we’re in our own private section of the store.

My nerves relax a little more.

The woman stops beside a silver rail already filled with clothes, and I run my eyes over it. None of the clothes are the all-black I’d been expecting. There’s a mix of colorful skirts, dresses, pants, and even jeans. They’re not the usual baggy jeans I live in, but high-waisted, wide-leg style jeans.

“Like I said on the phone, Tobie needs everything. Every day basics, some nicer outfits for evenings and nights out that will make her feel beautiful,” Javier says as Reid wanders over to a white boucle armchair and sinks into it.

I stare at Javier, surprised.

I thought they were bringing me here to turn me into a sex kitten, unless they don’t think I have it in me to be a sex kitten.

I don’t know if I should be relieved or disappointed.

“I see.” The woman gives me a once-over. “You’re a size ten to twelve?”

She can tell that in one glance?

“Uh, twelve.” I blush as I glance at Javier. “A little smaller on top.”

A whole size smaller on the top.

The woman angles her head as she gives my body another scan. “Your clothes look at least twice that size. I have other pear-shaped customers who prefer to cover up completely, but I have some ideas to flatter your body without showing off too much if that’s what you want?”

“Wait? There’s a way to flatter?”

I will literally marry this woman on the spot if she can achieve what I have spent years failing at.

Her smile is warm. “There is. I’ve pre-selected some outfits, but now that I’ve met you and seen your coloring, I have some other ideas.”

She sounds confident. It’s not like she’s just saying it to be nice, but like she actually means it.

I glance at Javier and Reid to see what they make of this.

“We’ll leave you in Clarissa’s capable hands,” Javier says.

“But I thought…”

I’m not sure what I thought.

He smiles at me. “That we’d put you in short dresses and tight tops?”

“Well, yes, actually.”

“Like I said, it’s about the woman,” Javier says. “And it’s about you feeling good. Otherwise, why would Marc believe we’re making you deliriously happy if you don’t believe it?”

It’s hard to disagree with that.

We’re in the store for hours.

Javier and Reid sit around chatting, texting, and flipping through magazines, and in between, they chat with me as I try on endless outfits.

I learn the baggier the clothes, the bigger you look. Clarissa knows fashion, and she is highly efficient at gently coaxing me to try on things that I would have never picked out in a million years.

I go from pulling on the hems and sleeves of everything I try on to accepting there are clothes that can do the impossible—make me feel good. Javier and Reid’s jaws dropping when I step out of the dressing room doesn’t exactly hurt, either.

My doctor diagnosed me with Hashimoto’s disease when I was seventeen after months of losing control of my body. Finally, I had something to explain my packing on the pounds, my struggle to lose the weight, always being cold, and a tiredness that would knock me down and make exercise and going to school feel impossible.

Before my diagnosis, I was a size eight to ten. Suddenly, I felt like I was in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. It didn’t matter what I ate, how much I exercised or dieted, I had no control over my body.

I blanch when Clarissa offers to bring out some pretty lingerie.

Trying on dresses and jeans is one thing.

But lingerie?

Lingerie?

I start having heart palpitations.

Javier lowers his magazine and looks at me, then turns to Clarissa. “Just the basics is fine. She doesn’t need to try those on.”

I resume breathing, and we move along to shoes.

We leave the boutique store weighed down by bags, and Javier refuses to listen to me when I tell him he’s spending too much money on me.

“He’s loaded.” Reid checks his phone. “More money than sense.”

Javier arches a brow on our way back to the car. “I’m standing right here.”

“So you are,” he says with a smile, tucking away his phone. “He is also the most generous person I know. He arranged for a private plane for me to get home fast when my brother got hurt at work and wound up in the hospital. Then he paid for my brother’s treatment without telling me.”

“It was the least I could do.” Javier opens the trunk of his car, and we fill it with shopping bags.

Reid snorts. “The least you could have done was buy me a bus ticket or tell me to fuck off.” He bumps shoulders with Javier. “What you did was above and beyond, man. I’ll never forget it.”

I never had a big, tight-knit circle of friends. I’m friendly with the people in my class and will occasionally hang out with the girls on my floor, but I don’t have the sort of bond that Reid and Javier have.

My dad told me that when I moved away for college, my friends would become family, and I shouldn’t feel guilty about not coming home for the holidays if I wanted to spend time with them instead of him. I always went home because I couldn’t let him spend the holidays alone.

“You’d have done the same,” Javier says, slamming the trunk shut. “We’re not done yet.” He snags my wrist and tugs me back toward the mall when I move to get to the passenger seat.

“Sure, I would have,” Reid says. “Know anyone who can leave me a ten-million-dollar inheritance?”

My eyes pop. “How much?”

I can’t even imagine that much money.

“His family was loaded already.” Reid takes pity on me by explaining something I’m struggling to get my head around. “For him, it’s like having another pool of money to dive in.”

Javier arches his eyebrow.

“What?” Reid makes his eyes big. “Everyone knows rich people spend their weekends diving into pools of gold like Scrooge McDuck.”

I grin as Javier approaches a beauty store and holds the door open.

Of course, by then, it’s too late to turn around and walk away.

“No need to look so terrified,” Javier says with a soft smile as he places his hand on my lower back and nudges me inside. “This is supposed to be fun.”

My mind flashes back to trying on makeup with my mom, and a tightness forms in my chest. It’s still forming when a man with a dark beard and brown hair tied back in a low bun approaches.

Javier says, “We have an appointment for Tobie. She doesn’t wear much makeup, so I don’t want you to go heavy. She has beautiful features, her eyes especially are stunning. Basics are fine. Something she can do herself for a day look and can take into evening or night. And show her what you’re doing.”

I look at Javier, again caught by surprise at how this shopping trip is going.

He shrugs. “I have a sister obsessed with makeup.”

Reid glances at his watch and flashes me an apologetic smile. “I have to go. Got something I need to do on campus.”

“You want me to give you a ride?” Javier asks him.

“Nah.” He fishes his phone from his pocket as he backs away. “I’ll get an Uber. See you at the party later. Wear the pink dress, Tobie. It’s my favorite.”

It’s one of mine as well.

I expect to hate this makeup lesson before I’ve taken a seat in a spinning leather chair surrounded by beauty products. Makeup was a mom-and-me thing. If I didn’t desperately want revenge, I’d have walked out.

I sit in the chair, stiff and awkward, as the makeup artist approaches me with a welcoming smile. I tell myself I can get through this experience. It won’t last forever.

But I don’t hate it.

The man at the counter takes his time showing me how to do a basic face with light foundation when I want to cover up and how to use concealer when I want to go even lighter. I get a crash course in applying blusher, mascara, using gold eyeshadow and pencil to bring out the green in my hazel eyes, and how a strong lip can elevate a day look into a night look.

“We’ll take everything you’ve used on her.” Javier has been standing close by, watching my lesson without once looking bored. “And a few different palettes as well for her to try looks out for herself at home.”

I feel spoiled.

Utterly and completely spoiled.

And that’s before the trip to the salon to get my hair trimmed and blow-dried and my nails done. I thought this shopping trip was about turning me into someone else, but it’s still me in the mirror. It’s just a more glowy and smilier version of what I was before.

Chapter 12

Reid

My major is political science.

After three years of nailing my core modules, I got arrogant. The admissions tutor called public policy challenging.

I thought I could show everyone that Reid Graves wasn’t a dumb hockey player on a full-ride scholarship because he could hit a puck better than the average person. So I chose public policy when I should have done the smart thing and head-butted the nearest wall instead.

I’ve had too many nightmares about Professor Amstutz to count.

They all begin the same way—me in my graduation cap and gown, walking up on stage, grinning as I reach for my scroll. He shakes his head as he presses a big silver button, and the ground opens up beneath me.

Nearly four years of working my ass off all wasted because of public-fucking-policy.

One final assignment. A research paper that counts for sixty percent of my final grade.

A twenty-page paper that relies on so many resources, it’s going to take me a week of solid reading to go through all the material before I can draft an outline.

A paper I haven’t even started.

A paper that’s due in two weeks.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I’d mumbled some excuse to Javier and Tobie at the mall about something I had to do and hot-footed it back to campus to meet my professor for a meeting he requested.

I’ve been sprinting from class the second it ends, and I’ve caught him eyeing me like he suspects I have something to hide. And he’s right. I do.

He’s offered everyone an opportunity to meet with him during office hours to talk through the paper. I haven’t taken him up on it because I should have started this fucking thing months ago.

The longer I left it, the more panicked I got, and the more I wanted to close my eyes to the fact it has to be done and that ignoring it won’t make it go away.

It doesn’t help that Caleb, majoring in communications, finished his final papers weeks ago. Me? Nope. Jay? Ahead on all his work. The only thing he has left to do for his biology major is finish up some labs.

I knock on my professor’s office door in the faculty building and wait, knowing he’s only called this meeting for today because I told him I was so busy with practice and was only free on the weekend.

As I wait for him to finish up with a phone call, I mentally chew myself out for my own stupidity.

I had big ideas when the professor told us about the paper. I’d salivated over writing an incredible paper that would blow everyone away. My chosen area was going to be the role of media in policymaking. As a future athlete, I thought it would be easy.

Professor Amstutz had been clear. Right from the start, he’d said, “I urge you to e-mail me or see me during office hours to discuss your topic. I can help you define it and locate data sources.”

And like a fucking idiot, I’d let everything but public policy become my priority.

I didn’t even think of going to him for help until well after the point I should have already started the paper.

Why the fuck did I choose public policy again?

Everything ate away at my time.

Practice. Trying to get Caleb to chill out as the stress of the looming championships started to consume his life. Anxiety about what’s going to happen with my brother. Daniela texting and calling Javier, stressing him out.

And fear.

Above all else, fear of failure.

A click announces the end of Professor Amstutz’s call, and I stiffen my spine as he calls out, “Come on in, Reid.”

I push open his office door and find the smiling, dark-haired, and gray-eyed professor with a short brown beard sitting behind his desk in one corner of a room he shares with three other professors. It’s just him today, which makes me feel shittier because he should be enjoying his weekend, not using his free time to meet with me.

“You wanted to see me,” I say, playing ignorant.

“About the paper.” He gestures to the chair opposite him, and I sit. “You’re the only student I haven’t touched base with, and I wanted to check in with you and find out if everything is going well.”

Now would be the perfect time to tell him I’m behind, stressed out, could do with more time, or most likely a miracle to get this thing done.

“I’m good,” an idiot with my voice says. “I’ll have it done in the next couple of weeks.”

He crosses his arms and reclines in his seat.

I’m giving him the lazy, confident smile, but he doesn’t look like he’s buying all this shit I’m shoveling.

The corners of his eyes pinch. “That paper is worth sixty percent of your final grade, Reid. The offer for you to discuss your project with me was important.”

“I know that.” I dig my nails into the fleshy part of my palm as I cling to my smile. “And I meant to take you up on the offer before, but practice has gotten intense. I’m on it, though. No need to worry about me.”

“I understand the game is important, but if you need more time to work on your paper, I’m sure your coach will give it to you.”

No, he won’t.

The free time I requested from him weeks ago went toward helping Caleb before he could self-combust with stress. Between Caleb’s stress and Javier trying to hide his anxiety about his parents not letting his sister come to watch him play, it was easier to set aside my problems and focus on theirs.

“Reid…”

I blow out a sigh. “I’m a little behind, but I can catch up.”

“You have two weeks.”

“I can do it,” I say insistently.

And I hope this isn’t blind hope leading me off the edge of a cliff.

He tilts his head as he scrutinizes me. “If you fail, this could jeopardize your scholarship and potentially even your place on the team.”

I know all that.

I fail this paper, I fail the module. It doesn’t matter that I’ve already passed all my other modules with flying colors. I need this one to graduate.

Yeah, I could say fuck it, I’m going into the NHL, and blow off school. I wouldn’t be the first or the last to do it, but I don’t want to shrug it off.

Education is important. Ryder always made time to sit with me and help me with my homework after our parents died.

I want him to be proud of me and not see me as a fuck-up who tripped over the last hurdle to graduation and face-planted inches from the finishing line.

I can’t do that to him after he sacrificed so much for me.

“I’ll get it done, Professor,” I reassure him.

He gives me another probing look and passes me a sheet of paper.

“What’s this?” I ask as I take it.

“My office hours. If you need to see me outside of those times, let me know, and I’ll try to move things around.”

Not everyone lucks out with a good teacher, but Professor Amstutz is solid. He can never do enough for his students.

“Sure,” I tell him as I stuff the paper in my pocket and get to my feet.

As I leave his office, my phone vibrates against my left butt cheek, and I fish it out, grinning when I see who’s calling. “Hey!”

“I had just about the best news I could have today, little brother.”

Ryder works a mix of day and night shifts at a factory that manufactures car parts in Wexler, Iowa. It’s a job my brother hates, but no other company hires as many locals. He said he’d ask the foreman about taking the weekend off to come see the big game. From his good mood, I can guess the foreman’s answer.

Everyone always says we look alike, and we do. We have the same big shoulders, and his eyes are a slightly darker shade of gray. Except he has a beard he’s growing out. He’s almost always wearing a Wolverines’ jersey with my name on the back. He’s that proud of me.

“You got time off.” I let the faculty building door slam shut behind me and walk to my dorm to get some reading done before I have to get ready for this party tonight.

We typically have Sundays free, but Saturdays are up in the air if we don’t have a game. Friday or Saturday night is almost always a game day. Otherwise, we’re resting or hitting the gym for conditioning with the trainer.

“The entire weekend and the Monday,” Ryder continues. “Means I won’t be puking over my seat mate from the epic hangover when we’re through celebrating.”

I laugh. “Dude. Scale it back. Maybe wait for us to win the thing first before you start planning out the cocktails and the scale of hangover you expect, huh?”

“The championship is yours,” he says, no hint of doubt in his voice. “No one has come close to touching you this year. First drink is on you, and it better be a double.”

“A triple. After everything you did for me, it’s gonna be a triple shot of whatever you want. Fuck it, the entire night is on me.” I head for the dining room to grab some food so I won’t have to cook, waving at familiar faces on my way. “You realize you can quit working at that factory any time you want. What you should be working on is your coaching qualifications.”

“No one is going to want to hire a dropout with no coaching experience. With or without quals, Reid.”

“You coached me,” I remind him.

“Anyone could have with your talent,” he says.

I stop. “You can do better than the factory, Ryder.”

“I don’t need to do better. I’m fine as I am. How’s school?”

I consider pushing, but there’s no pushing Ryder Graves into doing what he doesn’t want. “No one cares about school with the big game looming.”

He’s the only one who’s asked how my classes are going. All everyone else wants to know is if I’m ready for the big game.

“I care, and so should you. You won’t always have hockey, Reid. A backup career is never a bad idea.”

“You used to be the biggest dreamer in the world,” I remind him.

He had his eyes set on hockey. Nothing could sway him from it, and I thought nothing ever would. Then a car skidded on black ice one night, two people died, and he turned his back on hockey to look after me.

“Real life has a habit of knocking sense into you. How’s the final paper for public policy?” Leather creaks, and I envision him standing from the brown leather couch in our dark green living room.

I regret mentioning it to him now. It had been a moment of stupidity. I’d brought it up thinking I’d ask his opinion about dropping the module, and he’d been so proud that I hadn’t gone for an easy module I could coast through.

I couldn’t tell him I was already behind, so I’d lied then, and I’ve continued to lie about it to everyone since then.

“Regretting my life choices,” I tell him. “But I’ll get it done.”

“I’m working tonight, so I need to get some shuteye. Speak soon, little brother.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up.

I grab a couple of roast beef sandwiches from the dining room, along with a banana and a bottle of water, refusing an offer to play foosball with my teammates. I head to my room, determined to put a serious dent in this paper.

It’s two in the afternoon now. I have maybe two or three hours of reading time before this party. And that’s only if no one comes knocking on my door wanting to hang out. It’s the weekend, so I’m not holding out any hopes about being left alone.

Back in my room, I demolish my food at my desk and open my first book.

I’m reaching for my highlighter when my phone vibrates across the desk.

As I tell myself to ignore it, that this damn paper isn’t going to write itself, my eyes are already scanning the text message that pops up on the screen.

Caleb

Need you at the rink.

I blow out a sigh and consider ignoring it.

And I do.

For five seconds.

I let my book close on its own as I pick up my phone.

If Caleb is at the rink, he’ll be poring over the playbook. I have no clue how many hours he’s spent over the last few years fine-tuning plays from a decades-old notebook. Some are older than we are. Some are plays that set us on this path to championship glory.

Every power play starts as an idea when we’re playing around on the ice.

Sometimes, things happen organically. We’re fucking around. Someone turns. Someone skates here. There’s a tiny window, and we look at each other and think… that could work.

Then it’s a messy scrawl on a piece of paper, illegible to almost everyone but Caleb.

Those plays and that playbook have turned this team from one of the worst in the league to one of the best. That playbook is Caleb’s baby, and he never tires of fine-tuning it every chance he can get. As team captain, his responsibilities are more than I would ever want, and the thought of leaving him to deal with it on his own…

My fingers hover over the keyboard.

Just tell him you’re busy and to ask someone else on the team for help.

I type out my response.

Me

On my way.

“You truly are an idiot, Reid,” I mutter, getting to my feet.

I can study later.

It’s nine at night, and I’m clutching a cold one instead of a textbook.

The walls vibrate, pulsing with rock music from the powerful sound system. Red plastic cups litter every surface, and the scents of beer, cigarette smoke, and something definitely illegal drift from the double patio doors that lead to the pool in the backyard.

Forty or fifty people in various stages of buzzed to shit-faced fill a living room meant for ten or twenty.

The frat party isn’t the wildest one we’ve been to. Thank fuck. Good thing, too, because Tobie hasn’t lost the deer-caught-in-headlights look in her eyes since we arrived an hour ago.

A beautiful deer, but a terrified one.

Her dress has thin straps showing off soft, rounded arms. It cups her breasts and falls to her calves. Her slightly wavy, dark brown hair is pretty, too, as is her dusty pink lipstick. She’s changed her glasses for contacts, the light’s casting her hazel eyes a soft caramel brown that mutes the green.

The fact that she’s tucked herself into the corner of the room is making people even more curious about her.

Caleb is holding a beer but not drinking from it. Other than the brief stare he aimed at Tobie when she arrived with Javier, he’s been keeping people at a distance with his leave-me-the-fuck-alone glare.

He’ll take on three defensemen on his own, but a rowdy frat party is his kryptonite.

I take a sip from my beer, turn to ask Tobie if she wants to dance, and she’s no longer hiding. She’s gone. I straighten, frowning as I scan the room for her. “Has anyone seen Tobie?”

Heads shake.

“The bathroom.” Javier turns from his conversation with Paxton. “I asked if she wanted me to show her, but she wanted to go alone.”

To hide, most likely.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get lost.” I pass my beer off to Paxton, who eagerly accepts, and I go looking for Tobie, weaving around the buzzed students and gently nudging the shit-faced ones when they stare at me instead of moving out of my way.

Most of the downstairs hallway is thick with partygoers. I can’t see Tobie heading upstairs on her own, but after a few minutes spent looking for her and not finding her, I jog up them.

I wander the upstairs hallway, sticking my head in the bedrooms and yanking my head back out again, wishing I could unsee some of the shit going on.

I’m reaching for a partially open door, ready to push it open, when a male voice makes me pause.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you’re with those three?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything, Marc.”

Tobie. And unless there’s another Marc here, I’d say that has to be the ex.

“They fuck around, Tobie. That is all they would ever want from you.”

Yeah, I like this guy less and less with each passing day.

Through a gap in the partially open door, Tobie is peering up at him. “And what did you want from me?”

“I wasn’t using you like they are. How’d you even meet them?”

“I, uh…”

“And when did you start wearing pink? To impress them? Mark my words, they’ll fuck you and throw you away like you’re nothing, Tobie. You’ll be lucky if they even remember your name the next morning.”

Someone calls out behind me, and both turn to me.

I back up a few steps, wait about five seconds, and then stride forward, calling out, “Tobie? Are you—” I push the door open and grin at her. “Ah. I was looking for you.”

Marc smiles at me. Tobie looks like she’s trying not to cry.

My urge to smack this guy in the face grows ten-fold.

“Hey, man. That play you did Friday was awesome,” he says to me.

I give him a cold smile. “Sure.”

He stares at me.

“You’re in the way,” I tell him.

He frowns. “I don’t…”

“You’re in the way of Tobie, my girlfriend.”

He laughs. “But she…”

I step up to him, my fake smile falling away. It takes everything in me not to put this guy on the floor with an uppercut to the jaw after what I just overheard. “She what?”

He backs up and to the side. “Nothing.”

And I step around him, slide my arm around Tobie, and dip my head to kiss her.

I’m not sure what possessed me to do it. None of us said anything about this fake dating relationship coming with kisses—real or pretend.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I’d been wanting to kiss her since we arrived at this party.

Her lips are softer than I was expecting. And the squeak of surprise that morphs into a moan tunnels deep inside me.

More than that.

She kisses me back, so what was meant to be a quick peck on the lips to convince the prick at my back he fucked up big time, throwing Tobie away, turns into something more.

When we break apart, her plush lips are rosy, eyes wide, and pupils dilated.

I’d forgotten all about the fool who was making Tobie feel like shit until he clears his throat.

I look to my left.

Marc is still standing there. Staring.

“Did you want something?” I ask.

His eyes bounce from me to Tobie as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “No. I just…”

“Cool.” I flash him another insincere smile and turn my back on him to focus on Tobie. “You want to grab a drink, or are you ready to go home? Caleb is sick of the party, and Javier is bored.”

I don’t hear Marc leave, but when Tobie’s shoulders relax, I assume he must have. But I don’t take a step away from her even though I have no reason to be standing so close.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

“For?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and I wonder why I didn’t smack that prick when I had the chance.

I pull her into my arms, a place where she feels like she’s always been, and I breathe in the sweet rose scent of her hair.

Several minutes later, she sniffs. “I’m sorry I cried. I didn’t think it would still hurt.” Her voice is muffled by my shirt.

I stroke her back. “Feelings are raw. No need to apologize for feeling.”

Her voice is quiet. “And I’m sorry you had to kiss me.”

I peer down at her as I thumb a tear away. “You think kissing you was a hardship?”

“I thought…” her voice trails off, and we look at each other.

I’m dipping my head to kiss her again when Caleb calls out, “Are we all hiding?”

There’s so much relief in his voice that I’d smile if I weren’t this close to kissing Tobie.

I twist around as he enters the room. His eyes bounce from Tobie to me, and his expression hardens when he gets a look at her tear-stained cheeks. “What happened?”

“Tobie’s ready to go home,” I say.

He steps into the room. “That’s all well and good, but you haven’t told me what actually happened.”

Javier follows him in, and his expression also hardens when he sees Tobie’s damp cheeks.

“The fucking ex is what happened. He was being cruel to her,” I explain.

Tobie shakes her head. “He was⁠—”

“Nope. He was definitely being cruel,” I say. “He was saying the only thing she was good for was fucking.”

Caleb looks like he’s getting ready to punch a wall. “Are you okay?” he asks Tobie.

Her smile is wobbly. “Fine. I’m fine.”

Javier frowns. “That guy is making me regret stopping you from punching him.”

Tobie blinks at him as if surprised we’re treating this like it’s a big deal.

It is a big deal. Tobie is ours, at least for the next little while, and while she’s ours, no one speaks to her like that.

“Come on.” I lace my fingers with hers, surprised by how natural the action is.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Out of here. I’m taking you home.”

“But we’ve only been here an hour.”

“We did what we came here to do. Now it’s time to leave and let people whisper and spread that gossip far and wide, like those flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz.”

I draw a small smile from her. “The what?”

Javier and Caleb walk ahead, talking quietly as I lead Tobie down the stairs.

A few people glance at us as we leave. Tobie shivers as we step outside, and I slip out of my jacket and slip it onto her instead.

“You’re going to get cold,” she warns me.

“Then I’m cold.” I turn to Javier and Caleb, saying, “I’m walking Tobie back to her room. I’ll see you guys in a bit, okay?”

I walk Tobie to her dorm and up to her floor. She slips out of my jacket and hands it back. “Thanks.”

“No worries.”

It’s Monday tomorrow. There’s no practice until the afternoon and minimal people at the rink in the morning. I also have a free period, which makes it the ideal time to get some studying done.

I make a spontaneous decision. Probably a stupid one. Yep. Definitely a stupid one, but…

“Sometimes I do my best thinking on the ice,” I say.

“You do?”

I nod. “It’s rare anyone is at the rink early on Monday. The coaches like to have their meeting then, so no one will be on the ice. How about hanging out?”

“Why?”

Suddenly, I realize it wasn’t a stupid decision at all.

“Because it’s fun. Jay will probably want to do something fun with you as well. Caleb, too, when he stops pretending he doesn’t like you.” Her blink of surprise makes me smile. “But I want to show you the arena when it’s quiet.”

She gives me a long look, then nods. “Okay. I’d like that.”

After hesitating for a beat, I kiss her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Tobie Myers.”

“Goodnight, Reid Graves.”

Chapter 13

Tobie

“You said nothing about me getting on the ice, just that you do your best thinking on it,” I say, refusing the ice skates Reid offers me.

On Monday mornings, I’m usually in the library or going for a walk.

Instead, I’m in an empty ice rink with the hockey player who kissed me last night.

“It’s fun.”

“I believe you,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’ll watch you have fun from over here. On land. Where it’s safe. Anyway, where did you get the skates from?”

I eye them curiously because they actually look like they might fit me.

“I paid attention when we were at the store. This might be a tiny bit big for you.” He grins at me. “A couple of the freshmen have suspiciously small feet. You know what they say about guys with small feet?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“They wear small shoes?”

He laughs. “Your cute sense of humor won’t save you. Come on, Tobie. It’s fun. Grab a seat. I’ll help you put them on.”

This is the first time anyone has accused me of having a sense of humor, let alone a cute one. It’s what distracts me when Reid circles my wrist and presses me into the bench closest to the rink entrance.

“Because you think if you give them to me, I’ll run away instead of putting them on?” I try to get up when I realize my distraction has cost me.

“Exactly.” He nudges me back down, and I blow out a sigh so heavy he flashes me a grin and drops into a crouch in front of me. He tugs off my sneakers before helping me into the skates.

I look at the top of his head. “You kissed me last night.”

I told myself I would not talk about it. I would just pretend it never happened since he seemed like he was pretending it didn’t happen when he knocked on my door this morning.

He peeks up at me through hooded eyes. “Yup.”

I study him some more. “You didn’t have to. I mean, not that Marc believed we’re dating, even with the kiss.”

“Oh, he believed it,” he says cheerfully.

“You looked like you were getting ready to punch him.” I’d been frozen as Reid stepped up to Marc, all his amusement melting away as he aimed a hard stare at my ex-boyfriend.

He ties the laces for my left skate and moves to my right. “I was.”

I’m not sure why Reid is so determined to commit violence on my ex-boyfriend, and I’m not sure why it makes me feel so good to hear him say stuff like that. I’m not confrontational, but maybe I’ve been secretly harboring a violent side all this time.

“You shouldn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your coach.” Not because I don’t think Marc deserves it.

“That’s only if he found out.” Finished with my skates, he moves on to his, and I realize something else important.

“You did mine first so I couldn’t run away, didn’t you?”

A smile stretches across his mouth, and I sigh again.

He makes quick work of kicking off his sneakers and lacing up his dark blue skates. Then he’s up, reaching for my hand. “Let’s hit the ice.”

“I’m cold,” I complain.

“You’ll warm up when you get moving,” he says with a smile that says he’s not buying what was a last desperate effort to get out of this skating business.

And it was a bad lie because Reid double-checked to make sure I’d layered up with a couple of T-shirts, a thick sweater, socks, and a coat because it can get so cold in the arena.

He steps out onto the ice first and turns to face me.

I grab onto the side of the rink and hold on for balance. I also hold on because I have no intention of breaking my face, which is exactly what will happen if I follow Reid onto the ice.

“Come on, Tobie.” He holds his hand out for mine.

I shake my head. “I’m going to do the splits and break my hips.”

“You’re not going to break your hips.”

“Then I’ll break the ice and fall through to the other side.”

“The other side?” Flint-gray eyes sparkle with amusement.

I cling to the side of the rink, desperate to hold on forever. “Uh… Australia?”

He laughs. “You won’t break anything. I’ll go in front. You can hold my hands.”

“But you’ll be skating backward,” I remind him.

He winks. “I have been known to do that a time or two.”

I blush at my stupidity. Of course, he knows how to skate backward. He could probably do it blindfolded.

He grips my hips and tugs. “Come on, let go.”

I clamp on even tighter.

“Shit, you have some grip on this wall,” he says, impressed.

“Yes, so you should probably just give—” His fingers dig into my sides, and I squeal, letting go as a snorting giggle bursts out of me.

I clamp my hand over my mouth, but from Reid’s grin, I fear it is far too late for that.

“You’re ticklish.” He looks absolutely delighted.

“No, I’m not,” I say in a rush.

He reaches out to tickle me again.

I slap his hand away. “No.”

“Come on,” he cajoles with a boyish grin. “I want to hear your laugh again.”

“It’s a ridiculous laugh. No.”

“It’s a cute laugh.” He pursues me as I move away from his hands.

Something very important suddenly occurs to me. I’m on the ice, and I haven’t broken through it and fallen to Australia. I beam at him. “I’m skating!”

As if gravity were waiting for that moment, my left leg goes one way, my right the other, and before I can scream, I’m clamped against Reid.

“I’ve got you.”

I wish he would continue to have me because pressed up this close is incredible.

His eyes are half-hooded as he continues to skate until we bump against the side of the rink. “You feel good in my arms, Tobie.”

“Do I?” There’s a tremble in my voice.

“You do. I’m wondering if you would feel the same way in my bed.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water flung into my face.

My smile turns cool. “That’s nice. Can you let me go now?”

A line forms between his eyebrows. “Why’d you stop smiling?”

“No reason.” I try to escape, but it’s hard to do when I’m on the ice, can’t skate, and a six-foot-three guy has a hold of me.

“Something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” I snap.

Silence.

I clear my throat. “I meant to say that I have an appointment I need to get to.”

His eyebrow nearly disappears into his hair. “Uh-huh. What’d I say?”

“Nothing?”

“You don’t like me flirting with you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He’s suddenly serious. “If there’s something I’m doing you don’t like, tell me. I’ll quit.”

“No guy just quits.”

“This one does.”

He waits.

I huff. “Okay, fine. You’re a jock, and jocks flirt with pretty girls. You’re only pretending to think I’m pretty. Can you not bother with flirting when it’s just us? No one is around, so there’s no point.”

He stares at me like he can’t believe he has to say this. “You think I’m pretending to think you’re pretty?”

“Yes.”

He stares at me some more. “I just had you pressed up against me. You think a guy can fake a hard-on?”

“Yes.” I think about it. “Maybe?” He raises an eyebrow. “Nooo?”

“Jeez, we’re not machines.”

He points downward. “That is only stirred to life by a woman I find attractive. That’s it.” He pauses. “And occasionally when my zip rubs against my…” He shakes his head, stopping right before he gets to a good part. “The rest isn’t important.”

I study him for a bit. He seems sincere, so I nod. “Okay.” I turn around. “Well, since we’ve done this skating thing now. Maybe⁠—”

“Not so fast.”

He tugs me, but it’s too late. I’m gripping the side, and I’m never letting go.

He pulls harder.

I hug the wall.

“You could teach the defense a thing or two about holding firm, Giggles. Let go.”

I peer over my shoulder at him. “What did you call me?”

“You heard me. Let’s go.”

“You only heard me giggle once,” I tell him as I cling to the side like I need it to breathe.

“And once was more than enough for me to know it was the cutest giggle in the world. I want to hear it again.”

“It wasn’t cute.” I release one hand and poke him in the side. He drops me and takes a small step back, and I swear he clamps his arms tight to his sides.

My eyes narrow. “Are you ticklish?”

“No.”

“Hmm…” I stretch my arm toward him, and he backs up so fast there’s no way I’m not instantly suspicious. “You’re ticklish too. Come back here.”

“No.”

I eye him across the ice.

He does the same, and a smile transforms his face. “I’ll let you tickle me if you skate to me.”

“But gravity doesn’t like me.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Did you not see the way my legs just went in opposite directions?” I shake my head. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re afraid of falling.”

“As any sane person should be.”

“Everyone falls, Tobie.”

But not everyone gets back up again.

I’m used to living life safely. I lost my mom, and Dad lost the love of his life. If life has taught me anything, it’s how fast the things you love can be taken away.

Risks are scary.

What if I take a risk and fail?

“I can’t do this, Reid.”

“You won’t know what you can do or how far you can go if you don’t give it your all. Come over here and tickle me right here.” He points at a spot under his left rib.

“Why there?”

“My big brother used to pin me, and I nearly wet myself. That’s how ticklish I am.”

But letting go of the wall is hard.

The ice is Reid’s thinking place. All I see is an expensive trip to the dentist to mend a mouthful of broken teeth.

He skates a little closer, holding both arms out. “I’m right here.”

I look at him and I can’t.

“The first time I skated, I fell and knocked out three teeth.”

I blink. “And that’s supposed to convince me to stop hugging this wall?”

He flashes me a grin. “But I got up. My brother… he was the best player in my town. I thought he was the best damn player in the world. He taught me everything I knew. I got better.”

“And your brother?”

His smile fades. “Our parents died when I was seven, and he was seventeen. I was the surprise baby they never expected. Ryder wasn’t just ten years older. He was ten times the player I ever was. But our town was small, with only a big factory that my dad worked in all his life. A career in the NHL was a pipedream for someone like us, too big of a leap to risk us losing the only home we had, so he let that dream go to take care of his kid brother instead.”

“So what did he do?” I ask.

“He quit school and got a job at the factory he hated.” He shakes his head as if to dislodge the ghosts of the past clinging to him. His gaze turns dreamy. “Skating is flying. Nothing has ever come close to it. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

He holds out his hand to me, palm side up, tempting me.

My fingers flex against the edge of the rink. “You’ll catch me when I fall?”

“If you fall,” he says softly. “But you’ve got this, Giggles.”

My smile is brief. “That nickname is ridiculous.”

“Not half as ridiculous as mine. Come on over, and I’ll tell you what it is.”

And slowly, I release my death grip on the wall.

His eyes bounce from my face to my feet. “Left leg first. Slowly push out. Don’t try to keep both feet beneath you. The point isn’t to stand still.”

The distance between us closes.

His smile is proud as he slowly skates back. “Right leg. Keep it coming. You’re a natural.”

“You’re just saying that,” I say, flushing with pleasure.

My eyes flick to the ice, and he shakes his head.

“Keep looking at me. Look to where you want to go.”

So I look at him as I skate toward him, arms out for balance. I’m as wobbly as a baby deer walking on ice, but I’m moving. I haven’t knocked out my teeth or humiliated myself like I was so certain I would.

The farther I go, the easier it is to keep going.

“Pollyanna,” he says, surprising me as we slowly circle the rink’s perimeter. “That’s what the team calls me. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Big smiles. Big positive energy. You-can-do-it spirit. That’s me.”

That name is ridiculous, but it fits. And I think it’s a compliment instead of the joke name I initially thought it was.

I stumble.

And just as Reid said, he’s there, saving me from knocking my front teeth out. “How’d it feel?” he asks, still holding me.

I try to put words to the small bubble of hope and excitement forming in my chest. “Not sure. Can we try it again?”

His grin is everything. “We’re on our way to making a Wolverine out of you, huh?”

We stay on the ice for another thirty minutes until my teeth start chattering, even with all my layers.

“What do you say we hit the coffee shop and grab some hot chocolate to warm up?”

I eagerly accept.

The campus coffee shop isn’t far—about a fifteen-minute walk. On a cool, slightly crisp spring morning, students sit around the quad reading, relaxing, or laughing in groups.

We attract more than a few lingering glances, but Reid doesn’t seem to even notice all the attention.

“I don’t get it, Reid. You said your brother was really good. Why did he quit? He could have gotten a scholarship for college. Couldn’t he have just gone into the NHL instead of working in the factory if he needed money to take care of you?”

“Ryder could have if it were just about money,” Reid admits. “He could have skipped college and gone straight into the draft. He was that good. But he was thinking about what was best for me.”

“And what was best for you?”

He stops and stares into the distance. When his bag slides down his arm, he distractedly nudges it back up again. “The first year is the hardest. Not all rookies manage the transition to the NHL well. You could be amazing at college but flunk as a rookie. And in the draft, you’re not just competing against guys in the States. It’s insanely talented guys from all around the world.”

“That has to have been better than the factory he hated, right?”

He looks down at me, his expression impossible to read. “He was a risk-taker on the ice, but Ryder didn’t want to take chances with me. He’d have had to train hard, which meant long hours away from me. We’d have needed to leave our home, find a new house, a school for me, and someone to watch me. Back home, we had neighbors we trusted. I think if it were just him, he’d have taken the chance, but he was worried about me.”

He holds the coffee shop door open for me, and we hit pause on our conversation as we walk inside. “What do you want?”

“I can⁠—”

“My treat,” he interrupts, “For a fun session on the ice, it has to be a Venti.”

“A latte, then. Salted caramel.”

I snag us a seat at a small table beside the window overlooking the quad, and he dumps his bag on top and goes to place our order.

I’m too busy watching Reid, thinking about the sacrifices his brother made to take care of him, that I jump at the thump beside me.

Reid’s bag.

I bend to pick it up, stuffing the books that fell out of it back inside. My eyes linger on a note in his bag. It’s a request from his professor to see him anytime about his paper.

I’m being nosy, so I quickly shove everything back in his bag, return it to the table, and glance up at Reid to find him watching me.

“Uh, your bag fell off the table,” I explain when he returns with our drinks. “I was just picking it up. I wasn’t⁠—”

“It’s all good. Just my professor wanting game-day tickets.” He winks at me. “Wanted to make sure I had his number to get them to him.”

He spends the next several minutes cracking jokes and telling me about all the embarrassing trips and falls he’s had on the ice. Everything except school. As relaxed as he seems to be, it all feels like a distraction.

Chapter 14

Tobie

Ignoring the stares from the students pouring out of the McAllister building, I linger, embarrassed but determined to do something for Reid after what he did for me.

I didn’t just share my schedule with Reid, Javier, and Caleb, they shared theirs with me, which is how I know to be here early this afternoon.

After my humiliation at the arena, I thought I would crawl into the nearest sleeping bag, zip it up, and forget the way out. I never expected to be laughing on an ice rink days later.

When the door swings open again, Reid emerges, his footsteps slow, and a smile transforms his face. “Hey, Tobie. You want to hit the rink again?”

I eye him curiously, sensing I know what’s happening here. It’s the same thing that happened in the coffee shop.

Avoidance.

Reid leads the way from the building. “I was thinking about yesterday.”

“Skating?” He aims a smile at me.

“No. The coffee shop.”

“What about it?”

I continue walking, trying to ignore the curious glances we’re attracting. Caleb was right. We were at the frat party for a hot second, yet everyone knows we’re dating.

“What is it, Tobie?”

When we’re far away from the nearest students, I grip my bag a little tighter and face Reid head-on. “You were lying about your paper.”

I brace myself for his response to my accusation.

I wasn’t expecting his smile. “And what makes you think that?”

“Back in high school, I put my name down to tutor anyone who needed it.” I flick a rapid glance at Reid. “It’s, uh… it’s how Marc and I started dating.”

His smile fades. “And this is important because?”

“He didn’t like me doing it after we got together, I guess because it’s how we met. I mean, it’s not like lightning hits the same spot… I’m rambling. What I mean is that’s how I know you need help with your paper. I lost count of how many people needed help but didn’t know how to ask for it.”

A softness enters his gaze. “Are you offering to tutor me, Tobie?” he asks softly.

I gulp. “Uh, I guess. And it wouldn’t be tutoring, really. Just help. If you want it.”

He studies me for several seconds, then he tosses his bag on top of a bench and climbs onto it. He offers me his hand.

I hesitate.

The rule follower in me sees his feet resting on the bench and wants to say something.

When I take his hand, he helps me up beside him.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to sit on the top like this,” I tell him.

He nudges my shoulder. “Some rules were meant to be broken, Giggles.”

For some inexplicable reason, I blush. “That is still a ridiculous name.”

“Not if everyone calls you Pollyanna,” he says cheerfully.

He gives me a brief smile, then turns to the quad where the students are hurrying to class, the gym, or the dining room.

I watch him, surprised by how easy it is to be around him. Two days ago, we were strangers. Now, everyone thinks we’re dating, and there are times when we’re together when it almost feels like we are. Like when he walked me to my room, and even though no one was around, he still kissed me goodnight.

Why would he do that when there was no one around to see?

He rakes his hand through his light brown hair and releases a soft sigh. “I’ve been a people pleaser since I was ten years old. How about you?”

“What makes you think I am?”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Forever,” I quietly admit. “I always found it easier to go along with what everyone wanted than say I wanted to do something different.”

He slowly nods as he watches two students tossing a football back and forth. “I find it easier to focus on fixing other people’s problems than my own. So now I have a twenty-page paper to write in under two weeks, and it’s worth sixty percent of my grade. And I haven’t even started it.”

I’m always ahead with my papers, finishing and submitting them long before they’re due. But hearing that?

It’s not my paper, so why does it feel like I’m the one breaking out in hives?

“I’ve finished all my papers for this semester.”

“I don’t need help.”

I arch my eyebrow.

After a long moment, he sighs and looks away. “Caleb has stopped freaking out about missing his shot, but he’s probably internalized it.”

“You said you needed me to help distract him. I can do that, and I can help you study for your paper. I warn you, I don’t know much about public policy, but I’m a fast reader, and I know how to write a strong paper. We can do it.”

“You don’t know me,” he says.

“Should we only help the people we know and ignore everyone else?” I counter.

“You’re going to be stubborn about this, huh?” he says with a slight smile.

“I can be about some things. I get it from my dad.”

“What things is he stubborn about?”

“I eat all the vegetables on my plate, and I ask for help when I need it, even if I’ve done something stupid that I think I’ll get in trouble for.”

“And did you ever get in trouble for those stupid things?”

I shake my head. “Because me being safe is more important than me being hurt.”

“He sounds like a good guy.”

“He’s the best.”

After another thoughtful moment, he nods. “Okay, but don’t say anything to Javier or Caleb.”

I scrunch my nose. “Why not? I’m sure they’d help if you asked for it.”

“I’m the helper, not the helpee.” He gets to his feet and holds his hand out for mine.

“Not sure helpee is a word, Reid.” I place my hand in his, and he helps me to my feet, but he doesn’t immediately let go.

“Thanks.”

“Everyone needs help sometimes, and you’re doing way more for me than I am for you.”

A hint of a smile curls his lips. “I’m not so sure about that. Want to come to my room and study?”

His eyes dip to my mouth as he speaks, and butterflies form in my belly.

I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Why did you say study like that?”

“Like what?” His smile is innocence personified.

“Like you meant something else.”

“Now, what else would I want to do with a beautiful woman in my dorm room?”

That butterfly sensation in my belly tightens.

I eye him steadily. “You keep flirting with me, even when no one is around to hear you.”

There are students around, but they’re feet away.

His smile grows. “And apparently failing miserably at it.”

“I thought the point was to help each other out.” I jump, startled, when he slides his arm around my shoulder and steers me toward the other side of the quad. “You know? The fake-date agreement we have.”

He laughs. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

I blush. “I figure I have to call it something. What are you calling it?”

“Project Headless Ex.”

I look at him.

He widens his eyes. “What? It’s a good name. Bloody and memorable.”

“Max…” I ask myself what I’m doing bringing up Max, who has been gently encouraging me to sleep with three hot hockey players, not for revenge but to have fun.

“Max?” His forehead furrows in a frown.

“A girl on my floor. Maxine Ryan.”

That line melts away. Almost as if…

No.

Do not let your mind go there. Reid was not jealous because he thought you were talking about a guy.

“Oh. What about her?”

He continues guiding me toward Reynolds Hall, his strong, warm arm a pleasant weight around me. “We bonded over a mutual dislike of hockey,” I tell him.

“Don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” he says with a grin. “He’ll never forgive you.”

I smile. “Not just hockey. Most sports.”

I catch a girl staring at us like she can’t believe I’m with Reid.

I’m struggling to believe it as well.

“You sure we’re just gonna study?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?” His eyes dip to my mouth.

“This is just pretend,” I remind him.

“Is it?” He leans toward me, and I stop breathing.

He’s going to kiss me again.

Why am I not stopping him?

Why, in fact, am I leaning toward him?

I’m staring at his mouth, a death grip on my bag as I prepare to close my eyes.

“After you,” he says with a smile.

I glance to the right.

He has the door to his dorm building open.

He bent to open it, and I thought he was getting ready to kiss me.

Idiot.

Face hot, I turn to enter when he grasps my arm. “Tobie?”

I twist around. “Yeah?”

“Pretend can stop anytime you want it to. You know that, right?”

“Why would I need to know that?”

“Just telling you the most important rule of Project Headless Ex. That’s all.”

“I thought it was revenge. And getting girls off your back.”

He holds the door farther open for me. “Is it?”

Chapter 15

Javier

“I don’t need lingerie, Javier,” Tobie whispers from behind the lingerie store’s dressing room door.

The only reason Tobie agreed to this shopping trip to La Perla was by deception. I told her I wanted to take her shopping but was vague about what we would be shopping for. By the time I was escorting her into the store, it was too late for her to back out.

I close the magazine a sales assistant offered me and place it on the glass table in front of me. “We’re not here to get you lingerie. At least, not only. You need something else.”

“What?”

“Confidence. You were easily the hottest girl at the party, yet you spent it hiding in a corner. We need to do something about that.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she denies.

“You were. Why do you think all the guys were staring? And why do you think your ex was so pissed you were with us?”

She’s silent.

If I were positive there wasn’t a window in there, I’d assume she was climbing out of it.

Back in the arena, I thought she was shy, and maybe she is. But after what Reid told Caleb and me about what her ex had said, a part of me wonders if the shyness isn’t just shyness but insecurity because of other things her ex might have said to her.

“Are you ready to stop hiding in there?”

“No.” Her voice is small. “I mean, this is fine. Expensive but fine.”

She’s still talking when I get to my feet. I glance over to ensure the sales assistant is busy at the front counter and slip into Tobie’s dressing room.

And slam to a sudden halt when I come face to face with soft, creamy breasts spilling from the top of a dusty pink demi bra that barely covers her nipples. I have to look away before I give in to temptation.

Her eyes dart to mine in the mirror. She stumbles back, yanks her shirt from the chair, and covers her chest. She’s bright red, her blush spreading over her cheeks and the top of her freckled shoulders. “You can’t be in here. I’m⁠—”

“Beautiful,” I softly interrupt, wanting to kiss each freckle. “And I just want you to see yourself the way I do.”

Her chin lifts slightly. “You don’t mean that.”

Her shoulder-length, wavy brown hair is loose, and the way she’s shielding her gorgeous, luscious body from me is making me think of rumpled sheets, sweaty morning sex, and I’m already far too hard to be thinking of that.

“And that is the problem we’re here to solve.” I focus my attention on her face before I do something in this room that’s better saved for a bedroom.

“What?”

I drop into a crouch.

She squishes herself into the corner, eyes like saucers. “What are you doing?”

I point my chin at the seat behind her. “Sit for a second. We need to talk.”

She doesn’t move. “While I’m half-naked?”

“Yes.”

If I give her an out, she’ll take it, and I think she needs me to be a little firmer with her than Reid would be. Caleb would growl at her, and she doesn’t need that. She’s jumpy enough.

She doesn’t want to see something that should be obvious, so I have to make it very clear to her.

After another long moment, she perches on the edge of the seat, and I clasp my hands together. I want to push her thighs apart, drag her toward me, and see how she tastes, but that’s not what I came in here to do.

Unless it’s what Tobie wants.

“We all want you,” I quietly tell her.

She stares at me.

Her mouth opens. Then it closes.

“Reid hasn’t tried to hide it, has he?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“Caleb is staying away for now, but the clues are there.”

“What clues?” Her voice is quiet.

“The way he nearly choked out a guy when we couldn’t find your dorm room the night you left the arena.”

Her eyes widen. “He did that?”

I nod. “He did.”

She swallows. “My friend Max said…” Her voice trails off, and her cheeks turn pink. “Well, she thought there might be a little interest.”

Reid told me about Maxine Ryan.

Of all the friends Tobie had to have, it had to be Max. The best thing we can do for her is keep our distance. Tobie might not like hockey, but Max has good reason to want nothing to do with hockey players after what one put her through.

“Why would you want me?” she asks.

I smile slightly at her. “Can I have your hand?”

I hold my palm out for her.

“To do what?” she whispers, breathing fast, those gorgeous tits a temptation.

I suddenly want to know what her hand would feel like wrapped around my cock. Is that what she’s thinking? Does she want to touch me? Her breathing would not be that thready if she weren’t thinking of something she didn’t want me to know.

“I’d just like to hold your hand,” I tell her.

For now.

Slowly, she places her hand in mine. It’s warm, soft, and small in a way that makes me feel bigger, somehow.

“The sales assistant is going to have a problem with me being in here so long,” she says, swallowing hard. “And about you being in here with me.”

“I couldn’t give a shit about the sales assistant. How does it feel to wear something like that?” My eyes dart to her chest and the shirt she’s still using to cover herself.

“Like it might be too small,” she offers.

I smile at her. “It’s meant to tantalize. It’s also meant to make you feel sexy. How does it feel knowing three men want you?”

She looks away.

I lean toward her, tilting her head back to face me, but leave my fingers on her cheek and chin, far closer to the skin on show than I should. “Does it make you feel good?”

She swallows. “This is just pretend,” she whispers.

I absolutely should not be doing this in here. “Just pretend would be us holding hands in public only. Maybe laughing loudly at your jokes and having you laugh loudly back. But only in public.”

Her eyes are full of so many secrets, and I want her to tell me all of them. “What happens in private?”

I hold her gaze as I skim my fingers down the long line of her beautiful throat, grazing the swell of her right breast, and trying to ignore my cock pulsing at the soft, breathy moan she bites off before I can hear more of it.

“More.” I trail my fingers back up her body when I want to dip them under her panties. “You are sweet, Tobie Myers, and I need to know how you taste.”

She stares at me, breathing unsteadily. “W-what part of me?”

Holding her gaze, I skim my fingers down over her breast, coming to a stop at the band of her panties. “Which part would you let me?”

She shakes her head. “You don’t… you don’t mean it.”

I lean closer. My gaze drops to her barely covered breasts, inches from my mouth. “Oh, I mean it.”

“I shouldn’t let you.” Her eyes dart to the dressing room door.

I blow warm air over her and watch her right nipple pebble in response. “But you want me to. Don’t you?”

She hesitates, and I wonder what that jackass of a boyfriend ever did for her.

“One taste, Gatinha,” I whisper, tempting her.

“W-what does that mean?” she whispers back.

“What you are. Beautiful. Little kitten.”

Her blush deepens. “I’m not either of those things.”

“I disagree.” And I wait.

Her nod, when it comes, is tiny, her cheeks red, embarrassed.

That’s all the permission I need.

I keep my eyes on her face, needing to see her expression as I lick and suck her through the thin lacy bra.

“Javier,” she moans.

I shuffle forward, stroke my hands up her rounded thighs, drawing her softer body against my harder one, wanting to put her on the floor and see what other parts of her taste as sweet as these perfect tits. But this is for her. For her to know how easily she can bring a man to his knees. She doesn’t need makeup or a short dress.

Just her. That’s enough.

Her hands tug on my hair as I lift my mouth from wet lace, smiling at her soft sound of complaint before I move on to the neglected breast.

She’s writhing on the seat, and I feel her sex against my chest. It’s hot. Is she going to come from my mouth on her tits?

Her breathing is growing ragged as I cup and massage an ass I need to see out of this thong, preferably when she’s sitting on me, riding me, from the back, the front…

Fuck, I just need her on me.

Her thighs are spreading and I’m picking her up, ready to put her on this floor, shove aside the thong when…

Knock. Knock.

“Is everything okay in there?”

Tobie nearly falls as she scrambles to get up, wobbling.

I catch her as I rise to my feet, gripping her hips and steadying her.

She doesn’t look at me. She’s pointing her red face at the wall. Every inch of her skin is a warm rose.

This close, there’s no way she can’t feel how badly I need her. And this close, I can’t help but feel how perfectly her body fits against me.

“We’ll take everything she tried on. Everything except what she’s wearing now,” I call out.

There’s a surprised silence. “I can bag everything up.”

Reaching around Tobie, I pluck the hangers from a small hook. She freezes when I open the door and pass the sales assistant the lingerie that Tobie tried on, including the empty hangers of the lingerie she’s still wearing.

Even after the sales assistant has left, Tobie still won’t look at me.

I grip her chin and lift it. “How did it feel, Tobie?”

“How did what feel?”

“What you do to me?”

Her eyes stray to my mouth. “It felt good.”

She wants me to kiss her, and I will. But not here. And not the sort of kiss I want to give her yet.

I back up and try not to feel pleased at the disappointment in her gaze. “I have something for you. Do you have time to come to my room to get it?”

“Your room?”

“Yes.”

Chapter 16

Tobie

Following Javier into his dorm and up to his floor attracts so many stares that it’s clear what everyone thinks we’re up to.

It doesn’t help that I’m carrying a large paper bag from a well-known lingerie store.

I thought this fake-date agreement was about making Marc jealous and getting revenge, but Javier is turning it into something else. Something more. He seems intent on making me feel better about myself, and I don’t know why.

His room is exactly as I thought it would be. Everything is in its place. No clutter. Biology textbooks occupy the shelf above his desk, where a gold photo frame sits with what looks to be his parents and a beautiful girl with long, curly black hair and brown eyes, probably his younger sister. There’s a dark blue comforter on his bed.

Reynolds Hall rooms are significantly bigger than the private rooms in Montgomery. He doesn’t just have more space. He has a queen bed and his own bathroom.

Javier is opening his mouth when his phone vibrates.

He picks it up, his lips flattening, then he glances at me. “Give me two minutes.”

“Sure.”

As he steps outside into the hallway, I put my bag down near the door and wander around, scanning the book titles, peering out his window, and trying not to eavesdrop as he tells someone to stop calling him.

His bedside table drawer is open a little, and the hot pink something inside instantly catches my eye.

Javier is not a hot pink anything guy.

I dart a rapid glance at his door and tell myself to stop being nosy.

Then I pull open the drawer, and my eyes pop.

“Sorry about that.”

I slam the drawer shut and whirl around as Javier reenters the room, tucking his phone into his pants pocket.

His steps slow as he studies me. “Something wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

His eyes bounce from me to the drawer. “You looked.”

“No, I didn’t,” I lie.

Smiling slightly, he closes the distance between us. “It’s okay if you did. The thing I wanted to give you is in there.”

I blush. Naturally, that reveals I know exactly what is in that drawer because I looked.

“I don’t do that,” I say, still blushing as I gesture toward the closed drawer.

He tilts his head. “Do what?”

My face must be bright red with how hot I feel. “You know.”

“Have pleasure?”

“That isn’t what I mean.”

He studies me for two beats. “Let yourself go. Is that what you mean?”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Sex between Marc and me was almost always initiated by him. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t something I felt like I always had to have. It was just a part of a normal, healthy relationship. I mean, that’s what my magazines say, and I had no reason to think otherwise, but there were times I did want something more.

“It’s just a tool. That’s all. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about for wanting more.”

I lift my chin. “What makes you think I want more?”

“You looked.”

Everything in his room is perfectly in place. Nothing is out of place.

Everything except a bedside drawer partially left open, and him suddenly walking out of his room, leaving me alone.

“You left it open on purpose. You wanted to see what I would do.”

“I wasn’t expecting the call, but I can’t say I wasn’t curious what you would do if I left that drawer partially open.” He walks over to the bed and sits down, patting the space beside him. “Sit. I want to show you something.”

Instantly, my eyes go between his thighs.

A dimple forms on his cheek. “Not that. At least, not yet.”

Not yet?

As drawn by curiosity as I am by the smile in his eyes, I drift over and sit next to him.

He pulls something out of the drawer.

A small oval object. It’s hot pink and big enough for me to wrap my hand around. I thought it was plastic, but the coating looks like silicone and a thin black cord dangles from the end. “Do you know what this is?”

I shake my head. But that’s a lie. I know what it is because I went onto a website to buy a vibrator years ago and saw something similar.

The fact it comes with a matching hot pink remote control that Javier pulls out from the same drawer is what made me question what it was.

“A vibrating egg. I can control it with a remote,” he says.

“Why would it come with a control?”

He takes my hand and places the egg in the center, curling my fingers around the cool, silicone object. “So I can drive you crazy when I can’t be with you.”

“Uh…”

“Do you know why I have it?”

Eyes big, I shake my head.

“Because I like to ensure sex with my partners is fun. This is part of that. Sometimes it’s fun to experiment.”

“So, you’ve, uh, used it before?”

“I have.” He doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed by it. I didn’t know someone could be so casual and relaxed about sex. I swear I haven’t stopped blushing since the lingerie store.

He presses a button on the remote control, and I jump when the egg gently vibrates in my palm. Other than a barely audible hum, it’s silent.

“It has different levels. That is the most gentle.” He presses again. The vibration kicks up a gear, and my heart does likewise when I imagine having it inside me.

He leans closer, his shoulder brushing mine as I inhale his bitter chocolate, and slightly woodsy scent. It’s as rich and intoxicating as he is. “From feet away, I can do things to you, and no one would have any idea how close you were to orgasming.”

My breathing is growing faster. “What’s the point of that?”

He captures my gaze with a heated, dark-eyed stare. “So you would fuck me absolutely anywhere because you need it that badly.”

“I would never do that,” I whisper, pressing my thighs together.

Not in public. Not me.

He fingers the button, and I jump again as the egg violently vibrates in my palm.

“Never?” His mouth brushes the shell of my ear.

I imagine it inside me, pulsing and vibrating until I’d jump him in the street.

And I fidget when it’s impossible to stay still.

I never had a vibrator. Nope. That’s a lie. I had one for approximately two days. My dad never went in my room, always respecting my privacy as a teenager, but if he accidentally found it…

I tossed it in the trash.

The thought of having that egg inside me and not knowing when those vibrations would come…

My stomach tightens.

Javier gives me a knowing look. “You look like you want to try it.”

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly.

His eyebrow rises.

I move to return it to him, but he shakes his head. “Keep it.”

To my surprise, he hands me the remote as well. “Try it. If you want to take things further, we can.”

“And would taking things further mean you having the remote?”

“It might.”

“You like control.” It’s not a question. It’s a feeling that’s been growing in me since the lingerie store.

I’m not sure I’m ready to hand control of myself to him, but he has such an easy confidence that I can understand why a girl would.

His eyes flare with heat. “I want to make you feel good, and I like taking control.” He turns away while I’m still processing how openly he admits to the things he wants. “You’ll need this as well.”

I blush hot, wishing the ground would swallow me, when he presses a small container into my hand.

Lube.

I look from the bottle to him.

“It’s easier to insert with lube,” he explains.

I can’t believe I’m talking about lube with Javier Duarte.

I blush even hotter, and his smile grows.

I should be recording this conversation for posterity, playing it back to Max to confirm it actually happened, or maybe charging people to listen to it because his accent is a turn-on unlike any other.

“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound unaffected. Pointless, really, with my inability to look him in the eye.

His soft smile will be the end of me.

“Gatinha, you have the most beautiful blush in the world. Knowing how far it goes makes me want to kiss you all over.”

And I hold my breath as he leans in close and presses the softest, briefest kiss on my lips. “My door is always open.”

I don’t move.

His eyebrow lifts. “Unless you want to stay?”

I scramble to my feet, snatch up my bag of expensive lingerie, and beeline it to the door, shoving the remote control, lube, and vibrating egg inside.

Then I halt inches from the door and turn around because Dad raised me right.

Javier is studying me with a hint of a smile curling his lips. “Thanks for taking me shopping.”

A dimple forms on his right cheek. “My pleasure.”

And I get the hell out of his room before I do the thing I want to do more.

Stay.

When I return to my room with my bag full of expensive lingerie, lube, vibrating egg, and remote I tell myself I won’t use.

I put it away, clean my room, and watch some television as I pick at a chicken salad I made for myself in the communal kitchen.

My attention keeps swinging back to that egg Javier gave me, and I keep wanting to know how it would feel inside me.

It’s the middle of the day, but I draw the curtain, lock my door, strip before I slip under my covers, and twist open the lid for the lube.

And I hold it.

This was meant to be pretend. Just a way to drive Marc crazy by having him see me date the best players on his favorite team.

How is it that I’m holding a tube of lube and getting ready to slip a vibrating egg inside me?

How is this my life now?

I stare up at the ceiling as I apply lube to the egg and slowly, biting my lip, slip it inside me with my knees up rather than out wide. The egg is too wide.

I feel full. Not great. Not as good as it felt when Javier was on his knees in front of me, massaging my ass and sucking my breasts.

My breath catches in memory. That felt incredible.

I pick up the remote, hesitate for a second, then tap the gentlest level-one button.

“Oh God,” I pant, my eyes rolling back as I curl my toes. “Why the hell did I throw my vibrator away?”

I widen my thighs and experiment with the vibration. Level five is intense. Like an orgasm-in-under-five-seconds intense. Way too much for me. I hover between one and three, my breath getting heavier as the pulsing egg makes keeping quiet harder.

I’m pumping my hips in time to each pulse when a knock sounds on my door.

I freeze.

Knock. Knock.

“Tobie?”

I bolt upright, the remote flying out of my hand. I grip my sheets to my chest and stare at the door, wishing this was a dream.

It’s Caleb.

No.

I try to pull out the egg, but I was so heavy-handed with lube and getting a grip on the slippery object isn’t easy. I’m not sure where the cord is, but looking for it in a panic isn’t helping me find it.

“Tobie?”

The door handle twists, and I leap out of bed as the egg continues to vibrate inside me.

“Uh, I’m a little busy.” I get on my hands and knees and crawl around as I peer under the bed for the remote.

“Are you okay?” is his quiet response.

“Sure.” I squeak.

“Is it your head? You sound… different. Do you need Doc?”

No. What I need is to find that remote for this egg or find another way to quickly get it out of me.

“Uh… no. I’m fine.”

He’s silent.

Good. He’s gone. I can breathe again.

“I’m calling Doc. If this is a concussion, he can come and check you over.”

Panic drives me to my feet and across the room. Snatching up my robe, I belt it so tight I wince in pain. I can’t let a doctor see me with a vibrating egg inside me. I will literally die of shame.

Clamping my thighs together, I unlock my door and open it an inch. “I’m fine.”

Caleb is standing outside my door, his cell phone in hand and his forehead furrowed.

He’s in a T-shirt that clings to the muscles on his chest. That is not helpful to my ability to stay calm and look unaffected.

His eyes narrow. “Are you okay? You’re all flushed.”

I bite my cheek as that stupid egg continually pulses inside me. It feels good, and even better while I’m face-to-face with a guy as distractingly hot as Caleb. “Fine.”

What would he say if he knew what I was doing in here? What would he do if he knew how close I was to orgasm right in front of him?

My breath hitches as I fight back my release.

His eyes sweep over my face. “Are you sure? You look⁠—”

I slam the door shut, press my face to the wood, and bite my lip as my orgasm hits. As I sag against it, my knees wobbly, I’m distantly aware of someone calling my name.

“I, um… I need to go to bed,” I call out weakly.

Caleb is silent for a beat. “I just wanted to say we have practice tomorrow afternoon. A bunch of people should be there so…”

I get it. It’s a good opportunity for more people to see us and for it to get back to Marc.

“I’ll be there.” I turn my back on the door and mentally curse myself when I spot the remote sitting innocently on the end of my bed.

Chapter 17

Caleb

Tobie slips into the arena, head down, clutching the straps of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her on her feet.

I watch her as she walks down the stairs and slips into a seat a few rows up from the rink. She’s wearing a pair of high-waisted jeans and a white tank top with an almost see-through white shirt over it. She looks good.

Even though she’s here to play pretend girlfriend, it’s like she doesn’t want anyone to notice her.

But I do.

I should have my eye on Coach or the assistant coaches, but ever since she walked in, I can’t get that noise I heard the other day out of my head.

Something slams into the back of my leg, and I twist around, glaring. “What the fuck?”

Javier skates up to me, skidding to a stop and sending up a spray of ice. “I’ve been calling your name for the last two minutes. What’s going on with you?” His eyes flick to Tobie, and the wrinkles on his forehead smooth out. “Ah… I see exactly what’s up.”

Reid cups his hands around his mouth and shouts her name. Her cheeks turn flame-red as she gives him a small smile.

I grab Javier and turn him away. “I saw something the other day. No. I heard something.”

Instantly, he looks intrigued. “What?”

“I stopped by Tobie’s room to tell her about practice.”

“And?”

I quickly glance around to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. Coach is screaming at Paxton, so we have a couple of minutes before he pulls us together again. I lean closer to Javier.

“She wouldn’t answer the door at first. I thought her head was hurting, and I should get Doc to check her out. Then she did, and she was wearing a robe and looked…” my voice trails off as I scramble for a word I already know.

Beautiful.

She looked fucking beautiful, hair all tousled and sexy, and strangely embarrassed.

Javier snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I yank my head back.

“Dude, what the fuck?” I glare.

“You were drooling.”

I stare at him.

He laughs. “What happened?”

I glance at Tobie and lower my voice further, even though there’s no chance she could hear me from the stands. “She slammed the door in my face, and I swear I heard her orgasm.”

It had been soft, breathy, and intensely arousing.

Walking down the stairs with a hard-on had been painful.

Seriously-fucking-painful.

It had been a miracle no one had noticed the tent in my pants as I crossed the quad to get back to my dorm. I’d spent ten minutes under a cold shower, and it hadn’t been enough.

I still can’t shake that sound out of my head, and I need to know what she’d been thinking of. Had I said something to trigger it?

Why hadn’t she invited me in?

Had there been someone in there with her like that piece of shit ex who doesn’t deserve her?

“Ah.” Javier nods and turns away.

I drag him back. “What do you know?” I hiss.

“Nothing.” His expression is angelic.

My eyes narrow.

He grins at me. “I gave her a vibrating egg to try out. Didn’t think she would, but I guess she did.”

He skates off.

I haul him back again, holding him this time because there’s no way he’s leaving until I know everything.

Coach is calling my name, but he can wait. I need answers. “Are you telling me you gave Tobie a vibrating egg, and she answered her door with it inside her?”

Why hadn’t she invited me in? I would have…

Would have done what, Caleb?

Standing on the other side of Tobie’s door and hearing her climax, I’d never been so hard so fast in my life. I’d wanted to kick the door down so I could see the look on her face.

His mouth twists in a smile. “I wonder if she used the lube I gave her as well.”

He gave her lube.

Jesus.

As if I’m not hard enough.

I angle my body away from Tobie and rearrange myself as I glare at Javier, who doesn’t look the least bit sorry.

Javier has never been shy about sex, about what he wants from a woman, and what he wants in return. There’s a reason we all call him Casanova.

“Why didn’t she take it out when I knocked?” I ask.

Javier shrugs. “Maybe she wanted you to hear.”

We both twist to face Tobie still sitting on her own.

I try to read her expression.

She glances at us, turns away, and back again. Then she does a quick peek over her shoulder as if she isn’t sure we’re looking at her. I’m not sure why, but I find myself wanting to smile.

“Do you think she has it in her now?” I try to recall how she’d walked into the arena. Had she been walking differently?

“And if she did, would that take precedence over the fact Coach is getting ready to kill you?” I jump as Reid pops his head between us.

“How much of that did you hear?” I ask him.

He massages the back of his neck. “Only the interesting bits. She looks uncomfortable with you guys staring at her. Not turned on. She doesn’t have it.”

I twist to face him. “And how would you know that?”

He winks at me as he skates away. “Cause I’ve seen her turned on.”

“As have I.” Javier claps my arm and skates away, leaving me alone.

So have I, but that was only because she was trying to get rid of me.

Practice goes as well as it can when all I can think about is Tobie watching me with a vibrating egg inside her.

Which is to say, fucking shit.

At one point, Coach recognizes that all his screaming in my face isn’t penetrating. The screaming has an effect until I glance over at Tobie, sitting on her own, knees pressed primly together, and then I’m distracted all over again.

That’s okay. I can practice on my own later.

At the end of practice, when Tobie gets up and gathers her bag to leave without having spoken to anyone but Reid and Javier, I don’t know what possesses me to skate over to her.

“Boucher?” Coach calls out. “I need a word.”

“I’ll be right there, Coach,” I yell back. “Tobie!”

She halts, eyes wide as I approach. I step off the ice and walk over to the bench to grab a bottle of water. “How’d I do?”

Her eyes dart from me to the observers.

I know what they must be thinking. It isn’t like me to be anything less than one hundred percent focused.

But we have a deal.

While she’s here, I intend to make it very clear to the girls who have been in the stands whispering, giggling, and calling out my name that I’m taken.

I feel them watching. So must Tobie, who has made it clear she isn’t comfortable being the center of attention.

I step toward her, blocking their view of her. “You said you didn’t like hockey. You like it any better today?” As I take a swig from my bottle, her eyes slide from my face to my mouth.

She shrugs. “It was okay.”

I try not to take it personally if she doesn’t like something I love so much. Not everyone likes sports.

Coach shouts my name.

“You want me to walk you to class?” I offer, setting my bottle down.

She shakes her head, glancing over my shoulder and smiling slightly. “Reid already offered.”

“And after that?”

Her gaze is evasive. “Uh, just hanging out with Reid.”

I study her, curious about what she doesn’t want to share.

Coach’s next yell is high in the decibel range that warns his patience is shot.

I pull off my skates, watching Reid grab his bag, toss it over his shoulder, and throw his arm around Tobie as he leads her out.

Javier is standing on his own, near the edge of the ice, phone against his ear, and he’s frowning. It’s Daniela playing games with him or his parents trying to convince him to drop hockey and take up medicine again. Poor guy never gets a break.

“My office,” Coach says, walking toward the short hallway that leads to the locker room and his office.

Which means a serious talk is coming.

I don’t leave him waiting. Only a fool would do that.

As everyone leaves, I quickly change and make my way through our locker room and to Coach’s office. He’s speaking before my bag hits the floor.

“Trainer says you’re still hitting the gym every day.”

I take a seat in the chair opposite his desk. “Not on Sundays.”

At least, not every Sunday.

And that’s only because it’s so busy that getting to a machine means waiting for longer than I have the patience for. I do a workout in my room then.

For several seconds, he doesn’t say a word. Just silently observes me. Coach is fast approaching sixty, and while he’s getting grayer with each passing year and more lines creasing the corners of his eyes and mouth, he’s as sharp as he always has been. He’s a hard taskmaster, but no one loves the game more than Coach McIntyre.

He steeples his fingers together on the desk. “You know the reason I wanted you for the team?”

I blink at the change in subject. “You wanted to be champion and thought I could make it happen.”

“Wrong.” He releases a breath and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms as he studies me down the long length of his nose. “Or, not only. I saw myself in you, Boucher. Brilliant as a kid. Would be brilliant in high school, but a perfectionist. Sometimes that’s a good thing, but if you kill your joy, you can lose the magic you have.”

My smile is bitter. “But I wasn’t brilliant in high school.”

He arches his brow. “Your team lost to the reigning champions. You took them to that championship.”

“But I didn’t carry them over the line.”

“I don’t want to see what happened to me happen to you. Passion is important. So is perfectionism. Don’t let one overpower the other. You still have love for the game. Don’t let it die.”

“You never talk about the days when you played, Coach.” He’s dropped hints over the years, but he never told us what made him quit to pursue coaching.

“Take off the next two days.” He shuffles papers on his desk. “I don’t want to see you, hear about you, or smell you anywhere near the arena or the gym.”

I sit up. “But…”

“Or I can bench you for the next game.”

“But I’m the captain.” It’s the last game before spring break. I need to know if I’ve fixed whatever the fuck was wrong with me.

“And it would be a real shame for the team to be without its captain,” he says, meeting my eye steadily.

He’ll do it. I’ve had years to know when he’s being serious and when he’s not.

To teach me a lesson he doesn’t think I’m learning, he’ll bench me.

He’s not just a coach. He has an open-door policy to talk about what’s on our minds because that feeds into how we play the game. I didn’t realize how much until this senior year. Now, something is broken inside me, and I don’t know what it is or if I can fix it before the big game.

I shove myself to my feet and snatch my bag from the floor.

The team likes to say I have a legendary glare. Coach has a legendary rage that would wipe the floor with anyone. Me included. I keep my mouth shut.

Before I can stalk out, he calls after me, “It’s for your own good, Caleb. I saw you with the girl before. Take her out. Get some fresh air, if you remember what that feels like, and do something fun. Hockey will be here when you’ve had the rest you need.”

The sun is setting on a late afternoon day when I emerge from the arena. Usually, I’d be at the gym or still on the ice.

But now?

I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself without hockey.

Fishing my phone from my pocket, I send a quick text, checking in with my mom. It’s something I try to do a couple of times a week. If I call her, she’ll want to know if I’ve met up with Christian yet, and she doesn’t need to know I’ve been dodging my little brother since I learned we’re going up against the Wisconsin Eagles—his team—in the championships. They’re the running champions, and while we’re competitors, I can’t be his big brother. Not while I have a team to lead.

Hockey has always been the biggest part of my life.

My dad was in and out of our lives growing up. Not because he had to work. Or not only because he had to work.

I was twelve, and my little brother, Christian, was ten when Mom had enough of his affairs. Toronto was home, but Mom wasn’t happy there after the divorce. She needed her family around her, and Chris and I needed her. So we uprooted our lives and moved to the States.

Dad’s phone calls and visits started off regularly. He’d call every weekend, or we’d do something, then they petered out and stopped altogether. He could have a whole new family now, and none of us would have a clue.

I don’t have papers to write. I always do those as soon as I get them so they won’t distract me while I’m at practice or the gym. Coach has forbidden me from the gym, the rink, and the arena itself.

Sure, I could hit a gym in town, but can I really not go two days without working out? Our trainer always stresses that moderation and taking breaks are key—that injuries happen when we push too hard or don’t let our muscles recover.

Do I want to train so hard that I take myself out of the championship with an injury I could have avoided?

I walk away from the arena with no clue where I’m walking to.

Chapter 18

Tobie

After the awkwardness of the last practice, I hadn’t wanted to come to watch the guys again. But if I’m here, the group of girls watching won’t ogle Reid, Javier, and Caleb again. At least, not so openly this time.

The same group of girls are back, giggling and pointing as they watch the guys on the ice.

Caleb is missing. I thought he might be late, but he never shows up.

When Reid and Javier skate over to me during a break, I ask them why.

“He finally pushed Coach into doing something about him practically living on the ice,” Javier explains.

“Two compulsory days off.” Reid pulls off his helmet and scratches his head. “He’s not allowed in the arena or the gym until he gets some rest.”

“Oh, should I see if he’s okay?” I curl my fingers into my palms so I’m not tempted to flatten Reid’s light brown hair sticking up.

Reid shakes his head as a guy skates over. “He’s going to be like a bear with a spike in his paw from being deprived of his practice time.”

The guy who is fast approaching is big, fair-skinned, with the palest green eyes I’ve ever seen, and the most perfectly sculpted cheekbones that make me wonder how he lucked out. And he does nothing to hide his curiosity about me. “Hey.”

I smile as he leans against the plexiglass. “Hey.”

He cocks his head as he studies me. “So, you’re seeing these two fools, eh?”

Another accent I can’t place. At least not at first. “Beau Ahern, the best left wing on the team.”

Reid bumps his shoulder. “That’ll be me, Irish.”

But Beau is still studying me, his head cocked slightly. “Which one do you like more?”

“Uh…”

We briefly discussed what we’d say if anyone asked how we met and decided to keep things simple. At the last hockey game, they were leaving the arena, and I’d gotten myself stranded, so they helped me get back to my dorm. At no point did we discuss any other questions people might have, like this one.

Beau’s smile is still openly curious. “You have to like one of them more. I’ll not ask if you like Caleb. He’s just grumpy enough to be third on your list.”

The volume has dropped in the arena, and it takes no stretch of the imagination to think everyone is doing their best to eavesdrop on our conversation.

Being the center of attention in some situations is fine. But when I’m surrounded by people who are from a different world than me, I always look to crawl somewhere and hide.

“I like them the same.”

His eyes crease. “It’s Pollyanna, isn’t it? It’s the floppy hair and puppy enthusiasm. All girls love the floppy hair.”

Reid laughs, and Javier snorts a laugh.

“Maybe I love the way Javier listens to me like I’m the only person in the world,” I say quietly.

Javier straightens as Beau slowly nods.

“But I do love the way Reid helped me through something I didn’t think I could get out of on my own.” Namely, heartbreak. “And Caleb is actually one of the sweetest, most thoughtful men I’ve ever met under that grumpy exterior, so if I had a list, he would not be third. None of them would.”

Beau’s stare lengthens, and then a slow smile stretches across his face. I get the sense that I just passed some sort of test. “You coming to the big game, Tobie?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Though I’m sure Reid, Caleb, and Javier will have forgotten all about me long before then.

As he skates away to join the other players on the ice, I turn to Javier. He’s staring at me, and he’s not the only one. Reid has lost his smile.

“What?” I run a hand through my hair, embarrassed.

“You meant that?” Reid asks. “About me helping you and the stuff about Caleb and Javier.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” When they keep staring at me, I start thinking I said something I shouldn’t have. My eyes slide to Beau. “Why did you call him Irish?”

After strapping his pads on, Beau is laughing as he stuffs a helmet on his blond head.

Reid gives him a look, glances at me, and angles his body so he’s blocking my view of him like he’s jealous.

It is sweet. I absolutely would never have a chance in a million years with a guy like that, but Reid seems to think there is a real danger of him catching my eye.

A smile twitches Reid’s lips. “Because he’s Irish.”

I swallow my smile. “And you got stuck with Pollyanna?”

He scratches his jaw. “Just ain’t fair, is it?”

The coach blows his whistle, and Javier rests his hand on the plexiglass with a smile. “Walk me to class after practice, beautiful?”

The beautiful must be for the eavesdroppers, and the hand on the plexiglass may be some kind of hockey player sign of affection because the girls watching from the stands sigh.

“Sure.”

As Reid and Javier return to practice, I glance over at the stands, and the girls who were whispering and laughing aren’t focused on the guys—they’re focused on me.

I look away.

On the ice, their intense warmup would be the equivalent of a full workout for me.

Someone thumps beside me, yanking my focus away from the ice.

It’s a blonde girl. She’s beautiful in a pair of blue skinny jeans, a tank top, and a peach-colored sweater over the top. She’s still wearing her coat, so she must have just arrived. I don’t think she was sitting with the girls opposite.

“You’re new,” she says, still not looking at me.

I smile. “Yeah, I’m Tobie. I just⁠—”

“Won’t be sticking around when you get what you came for, huh?” Her voice is saccharine sweet, her expression open, but I’m getting the impression she doesn’t like me one bit.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She gestures to the ice. “The players. You’re here to watch them practice, huh?”

“Caleb invited me,” I say defensively. “I didn’t just walk in.”

“But it’s not the hockey that interests you, huh?”

I don’t respond because whatever I say will be the wrong thing.

Still smiling, she gets to her feet and says off-hand, “Maybe next time you should sit up in the stands with the other puck bunnies. That way, you won’t distract practice when you stop showing up.”

What’s a puck bunny?

She walks away before I can ask.

I watch her make her way down to the ice and start chatting with the few players still lacing up their skates. One guy ruffles her hair. She sticks out her tongue and shoves him away. Since he’s built like a tank, he doesn’t even sway.

So the players know her and like her. Is she dating one of them?

Why did it feel like she’d prefer I left instead of sitting higher in the stands?

Javier, Reid, and I leave the arena together. They’re casual in sweats, and their hair is damp from what must have been a fast shower to be in and out of the locker room in under fifteen minutes.

Reid laces his fingers with mine, and Javier curls his arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his side in a move that feels so natural, I can’t believe it’s happening for the first time.

“What was Hallie saying?” Reid asks.

“Hallie?”

“Hallie Stewart, her brother is Lincoln, one of the defensemen,” Javier explains. “We all call him Sweet.”

Yeah, well, Hallie is less than sweet.

I consider telling them about what Hallie said and how I pulled out my cell phone and quickly searched to discover what a puck bunny is.

Nothing pleasant.

“Oh, nothing important,” I say vaguely. I’m not at the arena to cause trouble. Soon, Hallie will never need to worry about seeing me again.

Reid and Javier share a look that tells me I need to work on my lying face.

“Don’t you get bored with practice?” I ask to distract them.

Reid shrugs. “Not really. It’s what makes me better. Do you ever get bored with studying library science?”

“Yes,” I say without thinking.

“Because?” Javier asks.

Because it’s not what I want to do at all. I feel like I’ve made my bed, lain in it for the last few years, and now it’s too late to get out of it.

“Tobie?” Javier prompts me.

“Isn’t the science building the other way?” I glance around and realize I just spent the last few minutes unaware that eyes are tracking us across the quad.

One corner of Javier’s lips kicks up in a half smile. “It is. But we pass the library this way.”

“And doesn’t your ex have a study period right about now?” Reid’s expression is angelic.

Ah.

These guys are pros at this fake-date business.

They slow our walk to a crawl as we stroll past the library, and Javier tells me about one of the biology labs he’s working on. It’s pretty dry stuff, but you wouldn’t know it from the way Reid keeps laughing like Javier is cracking epic one-liners right after the next or the way Javier’s eyes keep straying to my lips as he nearly kisses me a million times on our way.

“What are you guys up to now?” he asks, taking his arm from my shoulder.

Reid shrugs. “Figure we’d just hang out.”

“And Caleb?” I ask.

“Probably busy sneaking onto the ice as we speak,” Javier says. “But rest is important. If he keeps pushing himself like that, he’ll hurt himself.”

The clock tower bell rings, and Javier draws me toward him and kisses me softly on the lips. “See you later, Gatinha.”

“Later.”

And as he goes to class, Reid squeezes my hand. “How about we watch a movie?”

“Or we could work on the paper you keep trying to pretend you don’t need to do.”

He releases a heavy sigh. “Guess so.”

Minutes later, we’re lying on our bellies, side by side, in his bed. It’s not exactly conducive to studying hard, but Reid insisted on wanting to be comfortable.

When I glance at him, he has his head braced on his elbow, and he’s looking at me. I wonder if he didn’t have another agenda when he suggested we study on his bed.

“I’m here to help you study, Reid.”

He flashes me a grin. “No reason I can’t help you in return.”

I frown. “With what?”

His eyes dip to my breasts.

I blush. “Stop it. We should be studying.”

I refocus on the book I’ve laid open, but I feel his attention linger on me.

I glance at him. “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But as I return to flipping through a textbook, I still feel Reid watching me.

“When was the last time a guy kissed you?”

“Before Javier today? You did a couple of days ago.” I turn another page and pick up a bright yellow highlighter. We discussed the paper and the question, and this seems relevant to it.

“Before that?”

I shrug. “Not sure. Is this something you can use for your paper?”

His breath is warm against my neck as he leans closer to peer down at my book.

“Reid?” I prompt.

“Turn the page,” he says.

“Or I could give you the book,” I offer.

His eyes flick up. “Then I wouldn’t have a good excuse for being this close to you.”

I swallow my smile. “Quit flirting.”

“I don’t need that page for my paper.”

“Why do I think you knew that before you leaned over to my side of the bed?”

He widens his eyes. “Me, do a thing like that?”

Shaking my head, I resume focus on the book.

Five minutes pass before Reid says, “I wasn’t asking about the sort of kiss me and Javier gave you.”

I turn the page, distracted. “What kind of kiss?”

“The intimate kind. Pussy worship.”

I stop turning pages and study the guy eyeing me so innocently, that I struggle to believe those words just came out of his mouth.

“What?” Reid asks when I don’t respond.

“I’m formulating a response.”

“A yes or a no?” His grin is playful.

“No.”

His eyebrow lifts.

I blush. “Not that kind of no. The no, we’re not talking about this kind of response.”

“Because you’re embarrassed?”

“Because it’s none of your business if someone has…” I can’t bring myself to say pussy worship out loud. “Quit flirting or seducing me or whatever this is.”

“It’s not a seduction,” he says with a wink. “If I wanted to do that, I’d be showing up at your door at night with no pants and a trench coat.”

I lower my head so he won’t see my smile. “People get arrested for that kind of stuff.”

“Only when they don’t belt the trench coat tight enough, and the wind blows it open,” he says cheerfully.

I flatten my lips and choke back my laugh. There’s no stopping my shoulders from shaking.

“Are you laughing at me, Tobie Myers?”

“Of course not,” I tell him severely and turn a page I haven’t read.

Seconds pass.

“Tobie?”

I turn to Reid.

And I’m suddenly breathless when he brushes a soft kiss on my lips. “I would.”

“Would what?”

“Pussy worship.”

I clear my throat. “I’m good.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Well, in case you ever change your mind, I wouldn’t mind if you thought about me spending an hour giving your pussy all of my attention.”

“An hour?” For the love of God, Tobie, do not get drawn into this—whatever this is.

He nods firmly. “An hour.”

And he picks up his book and resumes reading.

Only this time, I’m the unfocused one. My eyes keep straying from my open book to the man lying on the bed beside me, and I can’t stop thinking about what he would do for that hour.

Could I take an hour?

Wouldn’t my mind explode with pleasure that intense?

Marc and I did oral. Not a lot, but certainly not an hour’s worth. That would feel… I fidget and get breathless at the thought.

Reid turns toward me.

I jerk my head away and yelp as I tip. Thump. One second, I’m on the bed, and the next, I’m on the floor, and Reid is peering over the side, lips flat, clearly trying not to laugh. “You okay?”

I scramble to my feet. “Fine. Just lost my balance.” And my place in a book I wasn’t reading. I pick a page at random.

“You sure?” he asks in a neutral voice.

“Sure.”

And for the next hour, I could not tell you a single word I read.

Chapter 19

Tobie

My phone vibrates across the table and slams to the floor.

I jerk upright, blinking owlishly around me, struggling to believe I fell asleep at all after Reid nearly exploded my brain with his talk of pussy worship.

I was so tired today that after class, I told myself I’d lie down for an hour, but I’m so fuzzy-headed and confused, I definitely slept for much longer than that.

I’m lying back down when a violent vibration compels me to reach down the side of my bed and deal with my phone before I’m tempted to lob it out the window.

I grab my glasses and slip them on to read the message.

Even with glasses, it doesn’t make sense.

Caleb

You have no classes today?

So?

Is he just asking? Or is he telling me to drop whatever I’m doing?

I stare at the phone, not sure how to respond.

Me

No.

I wince. It sounds so cold. Should I have said something else? Maybe thrown an emoji in there?

Caleb

There’s a downtown park I used to go to.

I check my face to make sure I’m wearing my glasses. I am. So why is none of this making sense?

Is Caleb asking me out on a date?

And why would it be downtown? Isn’t the whole point of this fake relationship to be seen by Marc on campus?

Me

Is there a party there so Marc can hear about it?

Caleb

No. This is something else.

I don’t know what to do.

If Max were around, I’d ask her opinion, but she’ll be out running, training, or in class. In the mornings, she likes to go for an easy run to kick off her day. In the evenings, she goes for a gentle run to wind down. I had no idea there were so many different runs before I met her.

After chewing my lip for a second, I type out my response.

Me

Okay. What time?

Three seconds later, there’s a knock at my door.

I angle my face toward it.

After the thing with the vibrating egg that I shoved in a bedside drawer, looking Caleb Boucher in the face will not be easy. I told myself he couldn’t have heard me climax, but he kept staring at me during practice. He wouldn’t have been staring if he hadn’t heard something, right?

“Yeah?” I call out, my voice husky from sleep.

“It’s Caleb.”

I lay in bed, clutching my phone.

I can’t face him. What if he knows what I did? I haven’t dared ask Javier if he told anyone about the vibrating egg, but what if Caleb knows I have it?

“Did you fall back to sleep?” he calls out. My door creaks slightly, as if he’s leaning against it.

“Um. No.”

The silence stretches out.

“Are you coming?” he shouts, knocking on the door.

“Why?”

He’s silent for a beat. “Why?” he echoes.

“Yeah.”

A door snicks. Then another. Not mine. They sound like it’s farther down the hallway.

He sighs. “Open up, Myers. I’m in serious danger of coming to harm out here.”

Curious, I put my phone down and go open the door.

Caleb is standing right outside, carrying his gym bag, wearing black jeans, a gray Henley, and sneakers. And my hallway is more crowded than it usually is at this time.

He gives me a quick once-over, though his eyes linger on my face. “You look tired.”

I take a step back and let him in. “I had a nap.”

“A Hashimoto’s thing?” he asks as I close the door.

I blink at him, surprised he remembered. “Yeah, actually.”

Fatigue, when it hits, can be a bitch.

“Do you need more sleep? I can leave.”

“I’m fine now. What was going on out there?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. I’d like to think no one was getting ready to jump me, but…”

He says it straight-faced, but I detect a hint of amusement in his dry tone.

His eyes settle on the book Max filled with hot pink tabs of sexual things she thought Javier might want to do to me.

Dammit. I cannot believe I forgot to hide that thing.

Just as I’m ready with an invented reason to walk over there and block his vision, or even better, fling the thing out of my window, he looks at me.

“They were definitely getting ready to do something to you. It might have even been a Gulliver’s situation,” I say on my way to my closet to dress for this trip to the park.

“What does that involve?”

“Tying you down. You know the book Gulliver’s Travels with the guy on a big adventure and all the little people who trip him, tie him down, and walk all over him?”

When he doesn’t respond, I close my eyes and massage my forehead.

What the hell are you rambling on about, Tobie?

I almost don’t want to pull my head out of my closet. But when I do, Caleb is standing beside my door, hands stuffed in his pocket, and a hint of a smile lifting his lips. “You like to read?”

“Yeah.”

“I vaguely remember it from high school. I forgot most of what I learned as soon as I knew I didn’t need it for exams, but you still remember?”

Never in a million years did I think I’d be talking books with Caleb. “I do. It’s one of my favorites.”

I grab a dress at random—one of the new ones. It’s not a dress I would have picked out for myself, but Clarissa has introduced me to color in a way I never thought I’d be comfortable.

Caleb glances at the blue floral midi dress in my hand and shakes his head. “No need to dress up.”

“But isn’t the whole point of this⁠—”

“Not this.” He looks away, raking his hand through his dirty blond hair. “Coach thinks I need a day off. Actually, they all do. Coach, Doc, the trainer… everyone. So it’s just a walk in the park. No need to wear anything special.”

Ah. Coach kicked him out of the arena the other day, so he must be bored.

“But if anyone sees me…”

He shrugs, gesturing into my closet and saying gruffly, “Wear whatever, Myers. And a coat. It’s cold out there.”

“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll just put on some of the makeup that⁠—”

“No need,” he interrupts in the same gruff tone as he reaches for the door handle. “You’re prettier without it.”

He opens the door and steps out before I can respond.

Still not looking at me, he adds, “I’ll wait downstairs for you, so no one ties me down Gulliver style.”

And he closes the door behind him.

I stand there, holding the dress, smiling faintly.

For a grumpy guy who would have preferred to be on the ice or at the gym than taking me out for a walk, he sure does know how to say the right things.

Then I shake my head and focus on getting ready.

Since I’m not about to go out in sweats, I grab a pair of the high-waist, wide-leg jeans that Clarissa said were more flattering for my body shape. I team it with a thick gray sweater, a pair of brown ankle boots, and my coat.

Then I brush out my hair and braid it.

Caleb is waiting for me downstairs, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring out through a large window beside the lobby entrance.

I don’t say a word, but he turns and looks right at me.

Again, he runs his eyes over me and nods once. “You ready?”

I smile. “Yeah.”

Max blows in through the front door, all fresh-faced, clad in black leggings and a matching top with hot pink sneakers, radiating perfect health vibes.

She freezes for a split second, and her mouth parts in a silent oh. “Hey.” Her eyes flick from me to Caleb and back again.

He nods at her. “Max.”

She nods back. “Caleb.”

Wait. They know each other?

I’m about to ask how when Max says in a much louder voice than necessary, “Oh, I heard you guys were dating.”

Everyone who wasn’t already eyeing us from their seats in the downstairs common room snaps their heads toward us.

“Yes,” Caleb says with a firmness I wasn’t expecting. “We are.”

I wait for Max to leave.

She doesn’t leave.

She stands there with a strange smile curling her lips and eyes as innocent as a newborn baby. I start sweating when I remember what she was like with her YOLO and sleep with them if you have an opportunity. Why does it feel like she’s getting ready to carve out an opportunity and drag me through it?

“She deserves to be treated right,” she says, surprising me.

Caleb, too, from his slow blink. “Excuse me?”

“Her ex was a jackass.” Max points a finger at his face, which is kind of rude. “Hurt her, and I will castrate you.”

Oh. The pointing was rude, but having my back is sweet.

Thanks, Max.

Then she spins on her heel, and saunters away.

“Your friend is intense,” Caleb says with a strange note in his voice.

“Yeah. Should we go before she comes back?”

He holds the door open for me. “Let’s.”

Chapter 20

Tobie

“What’d you do on your first day off?” I ask as he drives us away from the campus. He opened the door for me as well, and I hadn’t been expecting that from him.

“Tried to sneak into the gym.”

“And?”

“Failed.”

“Then?” Because there must be more. A guy like Caleb Boucher doesn’t seem the type to give up easily.

“Tried the arena at night.”

“But?”

“Security refused to let me in, and Coach must’ve had them disarm my security pass because it didn’t work.”

“Sounds like he’s serious.”

“He is.”

We continue the drive through the city, and he’s so quiet it’s easy to guess what he must be thinking.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to be here. I can tell your coach that you did this if you want to go back. The game is too important for you to waste your time dragging me out like this.”

He makes a turn on downtown Main Street, along a side road before pulling up in front of a park. “Coach might have a point,” he says quietly.

“Oh?”

He cuts the engine and unsnaps his seat belt. “Come on, let’s go for that walk.”

I follow him out and let him lead the way.

It’s not the green park I’d expected, but more of a recreation center with some small green spots with benches to picnic. It’s a cool day, just as Caleb warned, so the only people we pass are dog walkers and joggers. There are separate sections for different sports like tennis, badminton, and basketball courts. We’re headed toward an enclosed court where little kids rush back and forth as they laugh and yell at each other.

“I might be a little too focused on the big game.”

He admits it as if it’s a dirty secret, like someone will punish him for not being one hundred percent focused on the game twenty-four-seven.

“That sounds exhausting.”

He jams his hands in his pockets. “It can be, but this team deserves to lift that trophy, and I intend to make it happen. Not just for me. For them.”

I understand why Reid didn’t want me to tell any of his teammates about his struggles with his paper, and why he keeps dropping working on it to help Caleb.

He’s shouldering a lot, and even though I don’t know him all that well, I want to take some of the pressure off him because it sounds like too much for one person.

“Coach is the reason I chose LU,” he says, staring straight ahead. “I had recruiters for most of the major colleges trying to get me to sign before I started high school.”

That would have made him…

Shit.

I had heard he was good, but I hadn’t realized he was that good at fourteen.

“And?”

He glances at me. “My parents got divorced a couple of years before. It’s why my mom moved us from Canada to be closer to her family in Philadelphia. I didn’t want to go to a team and struggle to get ice time. I wanted to go somewhere I could do something special. Make a difference. Maybe there’s some ego in that, but Coach gave me the chance to make a real difference somewhere.”

“So you chose one of the worst teams in the league because you wanted to…”

“Make history.” He darts a rapid glance my way. “I’ve done that. Or I’m about to. And…”

I peer up at him. “And?”

He says quietly, “I didn’t want to be too far from my mom in case she needed me.”

I don’t know how this man keeps surprising me, but he does.

I trail him through the park, glancing at him periodically, wondering at the insane level of focus and determination he had so young.

At fourteen, I was still figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. Hell, at twenty-two, I’m still figuring it out. He knew it, and now this is it, the thing he’s always wanted.

It’s getting hard to think with the screaming kids hurtling up and down a concrete-enclosed hockey court.

“What’s that?” I frown.

“Street hockey. I used to play with my brother when I was a kid.”

The kids are nine or ten years old, maybe a little older. All are in worn-looking, different-colored hockey jerseys, jeans, and inline skates.

They’re good.

At least, I think they’re good. They’re spending more time laughing than playing as they weave around, tapping a puck to each other. A man in a black denim jacket stands off to the side, watching them with a smile and his hands stuffed in his sweatpants’ pockets.

Two of the kids are practically having a wrestling match when one flicks the other in the middle of his forehead.

One flick prompts a pile of kids screaming, yelling, and laughing as they jump all over each other.

The man steps forward, pulling his hands from his pockets as he claps. “Hey! Break it up. Let’s start this practice.”

“Wait. They hadn’t even started?” I ask Caleb.

He shakes his head. “My old coach used to do the same. The first twenty minutes we’d play and get all the excited energy out of our system before the real practice starts.”

Ah.

As the kids get to their feet, I look at Caleb. “Do you miss it?”

His eyes fly to mine. “Huh?”

I gesture at the kids. “Street hockey.”

He shrugs. “It was just something I did.”

“But did you like it?”

His jaw twitches as he watches the kids gather in front of their coach. “I did.”

“So why’d you stop?”

“It’s Caleb Boucher,” a kid yells before Caleb can respond.

I’m surprised they would even know who he is until I remember Lamont isn’t a massive city, and the Wolverines are about to win their first championship in decades. These kids must have watched a game over the last few years if they like to play street hockey.

“That’s not Caleb Boucher,” another kid snorts and glances over. “Fuck me, it’s⁠—”

“Language!” the blond man calls out, but he’s staring at Caleb with something resembling awe. “Hey.”

Caleb nods. “Hey.”

The kids skate toward us. “What are you doing here?” a kid with short red hair asks.

Their eyes bounce from him to me. “Is that your girlfriend?”

One kid nudges another. “Dude, what kind of question is that?”

I get embarrassed because maybe even they can see through our fake relationship.

“Of course she is.” A dark-haired kid rolls his eyes and elbows his friend. “Idiot.”

“She’s pretty.”

I can’t help but smile at the compliment. Maybe it’s what gives me the confidence to say, “Caleb used to play street hockey.”

Their eyes bulge.

“You did?” one kid asks Caleb.

He nods. “A while ago. During summer.”

“We have a game next week. That’s what we’re practicing for,” one kid says.

“If you wanted to play…” I prompt Caleb, who shows no sign he’s ready to leave.

“I don’t have my skates,” Caleb says.

But I swear he’s interested.

If he won’t join the kids, then maybe I could help with that.

I arch my eyebrow and raise my voice. “Afraid the kids will whoop your ass?”

The kids ooh.

Caleb scowls at me. “No kids are going to whoop my ass.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” I motion to the hockey rink. “Let’s see what you’re made of, Boucher.”

He gives me a look that promises payback, releasing a sigh as he walks around to the entrance.

The kids gather around him, shouting questions about plays, goals, and other hockey terms that fly right over my head.

I cross my arms and watch him.

He’s stiff at first, keeping his distance as he asks whether their play technique is defensive or offensive.

The kids look confused until he backs up and asks them to show him one of their plays.

What starts off as a question turns into a full-blown lesson with the kids’ coach stepping back as Caleb calls out directions.

He doesn’t have skates like the kids do, but that doesn’t stop him from taking a stick the coach offers him. I lean against the side of the enclosure, surprising myself by enjoying watching the kids play.

Two of the kids team up to take Caleb down, and when Caleb hits the ground, I expect him to call off this practice. When a grin splits his face as he gets to his feet and dusts himself off, it turns an already attractive guy into one I can’t take my eyes off.

I don’t even realize I’m smiling until my cheeks hurt.

He’s with them for over thirty minutes, and at no point am I the least bit bored when I always thought I’d prefer to watch paint dry than sports.

Caleb turns to me, finds me smiling, and his expression softens. “You want a go, Myers?”

I back up, eyes wide. “Uh, I don’t play hockey.”

“Afraid we’ll whoop your ass?” he teases.

“Yes. I really am.” I’m not joking. Not even a little.

The kids laugh.

“We’ll go easy on you,” one calls out.

“Come on, I’ll protect you,” Caleb offers softly.

And even though I don’t know the first thing about hockey, I pull my hands from my pockets and round the enclosure to get to the entrance. “Okay.”

It is so much bigger on the asphalt hockey rink than I thought, and I have no idea what I’m doing or even where to stand.

We have a quick round of introductions, and the coach, Trey, a man in his mid-thirties, is content to take a step back and let Caleb take over his training session.

“Here.” Caleb hands me his stick and grabs another for himself from Trey, who has a couple of spares. “You’re on my team, and we’re going to win.”

I eye the kids warily. “We are?”

“We are.”

He shows me the mechanics of holding a stick and drops the puck in front of me. “You ready to test this hockey thing out?”

I nod. “Ready.”

“Give it a tap.”

I tap the puck. It doesn’t move.

Caleb grins. “You were meant to hit it.”

The kids laugh as my face heats up. “I tried, okay.”

“I can help,” the coach says, walking over.

“I’ve got it.” Caleb leans his stick against the side. “Over here, Myers.”

And I hold my breath as he wraps his arms around me, places his hands over mine on the stick, and says in my ear, “You grip like this.”

Suddenly, it’s impossible to breathe with Caleb’s arms wrapped snugly around me.

Or maybe it’s because I’m awash in his fresh cedar scent.

“And then?” I murmur.

When he doesn’t respond, I angle my head to the right.

He’s looking down at me, eyes glued to my face, no, on my mouth.

And this time, there’s no lollipop in sight.

I start having inappropriate thoughts I should not have while surrounded by kids, all because of Max’s dirty mind.

I swallow hard. “Caleb?”

He releases me and backs up fast.

“You got a handle on it?” he asks, avoiding my gaze.

I try not to feel hurt that he dropped me like a hot potato. It’s hard to do when a bunch of kids are staring at you like you have cooties.

“Sure,” I say.

But I don’t have a handle on it.

“How about a quick game?” Trey bounces his gaze between Caleb and me as if he reads the tension between us.

“Maybe I should sit this one out before I take someone’s eye out with this thing.” I lift the stick I have no clue how to use.

“Doubtful,” a kid mutters. “You hit nothing but air.”

“Hey!” I yell, feigning outrage. “I’ll have you know I grazed the top of that puck like no one’s business.” I sniff.

The other kids laugh, and when I turn to Caleb, he’s watching me, a hint of a smile lifting the corners of his lips.

I don’t know what it is about me that keeps capturing his attention, but whatever it is, I hope it never goes away. “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, Myers. You up for a game with these punks?”

“Will I survive it?” I ask, only half joking.

“I’ll protect you,” he says so seriously that my smile fades.

“But I don’t know the rules,” I remind him.

“All you gotta do is score more than the other side. That’s all there is to it. Five on five. We’ll do three periods, one minute per period, and a five-minute break between each to talk tactics. Coach can decide the winner so no one can accuse me of cheating,” he says with a boyish grin.

“Sounds good to me,” the kids’ coach says with a nod.

I eye the kids warily when I remember something about hockey. “I want confirmation that no one is going to drop their sticks and fight me for no reason.”

Caleb laughs, but he doesn’t actually confirm anything.

“Um, Caleb?” I ask, getting worried.

“I’ve got your back, Myers.”

Then it’s too late to ask again because we’re busy forming into two teams, and the game is on.

They slow things down for my benefit. Thank God.

Until a kid charges me, and I freeze.

A large, muscled arm wraps around my middle from behind, lifts me out of the way, and Caleb takes my place before a kid can run me over with his stick.

“Go easy on my girl, k bro?” he says.

“Got it,” the kid says with a salute.

The game continues, so I don’t have long to dwell on what Caleb just said.

My girl.

He called me his girl.

I should be outraged about a man laying claim to me like that.

I’m not.

I’d give anything to hear him say that again.

We lose. But only because our opponents work out fast that I’m the weak link, so Caleb spends more time protecting me than scoring. He doesn’t seem to mind getting his ass whooped by a bunch of kids. I don’t mind losing because none of them kill me, and Caleb has such a beautiful smile, I wish he did it more often.

We’re at the park for nearly two hours, and I lose track of how many times Caleb grins. I learn more about hockey than I ever thought I wanted to, and at no point do my eyes glaze over.

“We’re playing in a couple of days,” the coach says when Caleb and I say we have to go. “It’s just a small tournament with the local kids, but it would mean a lot to them if you could come.”

“We have a big game to prep for, but maybe,” Caleb says.

I think this is a case when maybe means no. The coach must know it, too, because his smile dims.

I thought he was having fun today, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe all along he was thinking of all the practice he was missing by being with me.

“Will it be here?” I ask the coach.

He nods. “Sunday, ten o’clock.”

“I’ll be there,” I say, smiling. “I didn’t think I liked hockey, but this was fun.”

After we say our goodbyes to the kids, who remind us to come back and watch their team, the Lamont Hurricanes, win, we head back to the parking lot.

Caleb is quiet until we’re nearly to his car. “Do you, uh… want to get something to eat?”

Wow. It really sounds like he’s asking me on a date, and I wish I hadn’t already made plans to help Reid with his paper this afternoon.

“Can’t. I have something I have to do later. But thanks for today. It was fun.”

“Sure.” He opens my door, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me.

“Promise,” I say with a smile. “At no point did I nearly fall asleep on my feet.”

“In case one of the kids took you out?” The barest hint of amusement turns dark green eyes a lighter, warmer shade.

“That too.” I laugh and look away, hesitating to do something I never do. “Maybe…”

“Maybe…” he prompts.

“Maybe we could do the food thing another time,” I blurt out. When he doesn’t respond, I peek at him. “But we don’t have to if⁠—”

“I want to,” he interrupts. “Why didn’t you want to ask me?”

“I don’t usually do the asking.” I make a face. “Putting myself out there is hard.”

“I know.”

I blink at him, surprised. “Really? You? You knew what you wanted to do since you were a kid and you didn’t let anyone or anything stand in your way.”

I feel like I have a constant voice in the back of my head, whispering all the ways I can fuck things up or fail.

He half-shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I’m not afraid sometimes.”

I’m going to be late to help Reid study, but I’m not ready for this conversation to end. “About?”

“Letting the team down when they need me, and that I’ll hurt the people I care about.”

“Why would you hurt them?”

“My dad mostly.” His smile is mirthless. “We’re a lot alike. He cheated on my mom a lot. He wasn’t there for me and my brother when he should have been.”

I frown. “It doesn’t sound like you’re alike to me.”

Everything I’ve seen of Caleb has led me to believe that he would be there for his teammates and friends if they needed him. He was there for me when he barely even knew me.

“Come on, I’ll drive you back. But you’ve got yourself a date, Myers.”

Fake, I remind myself as I climb into the passenger seat and Caleb closes my door.

He means a fake date. None of this is real, remember?

Chapter 21

Reid

“You’re going to drop that weight on your foot,” Theo warns, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I abandon my barbell rows and put the weight on the black gym mat. He’s right. I am way too distracted to lift such heavy weights.

“Is it your brother?” Theo asks, dragging a towel over his face.

We’re all in the gym to work on our conditioning. The assistant coaches, Jase Conner and Lucky Lynch, weave around the gym equipment, making the odd corrections to our forms.

Our trainer, Zach Palinsky, a dark-haired former hockey player in his late thirties, is over with Coach, probably filling him in on who needs to put more work in and who’s been slacking. When both their eyes slide my way, I get on the mat and start stretching.

Everyone on the team knows how hard I’ve been pushing Coach to take on Ryder as an assistant coach. But that’s not the only worry occupying my mind.

I’m starting to panic that I’m running out of time to complete my paper. Tobie is helping, but what if I left it too late to catch up?

She’s with Caleb today since Coach gave Caleb two days off. He’s back to training and the ice tomorrow, and he’s probably counting down the minutes.

Theo glances at Lincoln. “You need to have a word with Hallie, Sweet.”

The six-four-four defenseman scratches his hair. “What’s Hallie done now?”

“She looked like she was going full-on momma bear on Tobie during the last practice,” Theo says.

We all look at him.

He shrugs. “I’ve seen the look before, and when I asked her about it, she was way too close-mouthed. You know how protective she can be.”

“Over,” Sweet corrects him. “The word you’re looking for is over. Ever since Meredith, she’s gotten worse.”

Lincoln has been Sweet ever since he opened his locker and the grocery store candy aisle fell out. He likes candy, but he’s also sees the best in people. It’s why he missed the fact his ex wasn’t as interested in him as she was in what she could get out of him.

He never saw it coming.

Not all girls who hang around the rink are like that. Some of the guys are in happy, long-term relationships, but enough have been burned, while others are the ones doing the burning.

As we work out on the machines and use the free weights on the mat, our trainer, Zach, finishes his conversation with Coach and resumes walking around the gym.

Like most gym sessions, we never finish our conversations as we work at honing our bodies and cross-training to prevent injuries. That includes cardio and getting on the treadmill or the bikes, which we all hate.

It’s only when we’re back in the locker room, chugging from bottles of water and Gatorade or stripping to hit the showers, that we return to our conversations from the gym.

“So, you guys and Tobie, huh?” Beau rests his head on his locker with a Gatorade clenched in his fist.

“Yup.” I twist my water bottle lid.

“Wasn’t sure I bought it before,” Theo says.

He’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. On the ice, let’s just say there’s a reason that big slab of muscle is a defenseman, and we call him ‘The Animal.’

“She seems sweet,” Logan, one of our goalies, pulls his shirt over his head. “Wasn’t sure you were into sweet, Casanova.”

“Who doesn’t like sweet?” Javier asks.

A few heads nod.

“So, she sleeping with all of you at the same time?” Paxton asks.

I lob a towel at him.

He dodges. “What? As if we’re not all thinking about it.”

“No,” Javier says, busy pulling his clothes from his locker. “We’re not all sleeping with her together.”

“Will you?” Coach Conner asks.

Jase gets a couple of surprised glances. The coaches generally don’t get involved when we’re digging into each other’s personal lives. I guess this situation is a little out of the ordinary, and if he’s bringing it up, it’s because Coach asked him to. I can see Coach wanting to make sure this isn’t going to derail our focus as we head into our last game before the championship.

Javier looks at me, relegating the question to me.

I massage the back of my neck as the locker room sounds wash over me—Coach in his office on the phone to someone, the intense spray of the shower, and the lower, murmured conversation from the other guys on the other side of the room.

“It’s not just about the sex. I’ve done the fun while it lasted thing before. This is different. Tobie is different.”

A few of the other guys are already nodding before I’ve finished explaining. Some look a little confused. Theo, I’m surprised to see, is the one who looks knowing.

I continue, “We’re still getting to know each other, figuring each other out.” This whole fake relationship was something Javier and I came up with on the fly.

It wasn’t supposed to feel this right.

“So you don’t get jealous when she’s with Jay?” Sweet asks.

I raise my eyebrow. “When have you ever seen me jealous?”

That’s not entirely accurate. Beau has made being single his personality. He doesn’t date. But he’d seemed interested in Tobie, and I’d been a little jealous.

But of Javier and Caleb?

No.

“And after the championships and the draft?” Irish asks.

I’m not the only one who blinks at him in surprise. This is the first time he’s brought up the subject of the draft. He’s still a junior, so I guess he has time to figure things out, but he’s not even mentioned any potential team he’s dreaming about. Most of us have been dreaming about the team we’d give everything to play for since we were kids.

“How about we win the championships first,” I say dryly.

Theo balls up a towel and lobs it at my head, then winces, straightens his arm, and rolls his shoulder. “Fuck, those drills were killer the other day.”

Someone throws a foam roller at him, and he grunts when it smacks him on the back of the head.

He twists around, scowling as he rubs his head. “Fuck you, Matthews!”

Lucky walks over to me. “How’s Caleb handling the enforced rest?”

“Only had three texts from him asking me to sneak him into the building the other day. Apparently, Coach deactivated his security pass. Nothing from him today, though, but he’s with Tobie.”

“On a date? Before the championships?”

I grin at him. “I know, right? I was expecting him to squeeze himself into my gym bag to get into the arena.”

Jase clears his throat. “I heard someone say your girl is friends with Max.”

A tense, awkward silence fills the locker room.

I get up, ready to hit the showers. “Uh, yeah.”

“So you’ve seen her?” Paxton asks.

“Briefly,” I say.

I’d been on my way to class when she’d warned me not to hurt Tobie. I told her I had no intention of hurting her. After a suspicious stare, she’d walked away.

I’m glad Tobie has a friend like Max to watch her back, but it couldn’t have been easy for Max to approach me at all.

Another silence stretches out.

“And has she said anything about⁠—”

“Probably best for everyone if we let that conversation die.” Coach steps into the locker room, scowling as his office door slams shut behind him.

That’s a warning if there ever was one.

His timing is suspect. Clearly, he was listening from his office next door.

“Sure thing, Coach.” I grab my towel and head for the showers.

No one says anything for a while, and after a few beats of silence, Coach Conner asks if anyone saw the football game, and the subject moves on.

I have seen Coach so pissed he was practically shaking, and it had everything to do with Maxine Ryan.

Chapter 22

Tobie

In class, I’m Tobie Myers. Quiet. Studious. One hundred percent focused on getting my work done.

I’m that outside of class as well. But ever since I agreed to this fake-date thing with Reid, Caleb, and Javier, people notice me.

I thought class would function as a sanctuary for me in the midst of all this un-Tobie-like behavior. From the stares I get during class, my two worlds are colliding.

Maybe I didn’t notice the attention before, or the rumor mill hadn’t yet kicked in about me dating three hockey players, but now I do.

Usually, I’m the first to arrive at class so it’s only when I’m leaving that I spot eyes fixated on me and people whispering as I pass them.

As I leave the classroom and walk down the hallway, Sasha Hall steps in front of me.

The McAllister building is one of the biggest on campus. There are dozens of classrooms and meeting rooms where most of the teaching happens. When I can’t get a meeting room to study in the library, I use one in McAllister.

I don’t know what Sasha is majoring in, but I know of her. I doubt there’s a student on campus who doesn’t know one of the most popular girls in school.

Naturally, her attention toward me makes other people in the hallway stop.

“So you’re with the Magic Three,” Sasha announces in a voice she doesn’t even try to keep down.

She’s a cheerleader dating the star quarterback, the leader of her sorority, and she’s always around the campus hosting some charity event or surrounded by a big circle of friends. She’s on a million committees, apparently attends every party, is the perfect girlfriend, and must never sleep or even sit down to keep up with all the above.

There’s popular, then there’s Sasha Hall.

Again, I feel like I’ve entered a new world that isn’t mine.

She shouldn’t know I exist.

And yet, the statuesque blonde is gripping her bag in her navy blue and silver cheerleader’s uniform, eyes filled with interest as she blocks my path out of the building.

I don’t want her interest.

Sasha Hall will eat me up and spit me out.

“Kind of,” I say vaguely.

Her blue eyes narrow. “Reid Graves took you for coffee.”

“He did.” I try to ignore the students filling the hallway. Their eyes bounce from Sasha to me. All they lack is a tub of popcorn and a couch, and they’ll have everything they need.

“Marta Shaw said she saw Javier Duarte take you shopping at the nice mall.”

I have no clue who Marta Shaw is, but she must be as rich as Sasha, whose mom is a famous interior designer who decorated one of the Desperate Housewives of Somewhere’s six bathrooms.

“He might have,” I admit.

I’m really shit at this fake-date business. I should be flaunting it loud and proud, all so it gets back to Marc.

Maybe I would have done that a few days ago before things between the guys and me started to feel real.

I find myself wanting to protect those moments, like a squirrel hoarding its nuts for winter. I want them to be just ours. Not something gossiped about, texted over, or shared with everyone.

“And Caleb Boucher,” she says, eyeing me closely.

“What about him?”

“He was in your dorm.”

Should I lie and say we slept together? Would she laugh in my face and ask for proof?

Someone steps out of the building, and I spot a familiar face standing outside. “Uh, I have to go,” I tell Sasha, ducking around her.

Javier is leaning on a wall three feet from the building entrance, holding two coffee cups that smell delicious but cannot taste as good as he looks.

A slow, pleased smile pulls the corners of his lips when he sees me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

I stand there, not sure what comes next.

His eyes flick over my shoulder, and his smile grows. “I think you’re causing a blockage.”

A blockage?

I twist around. I’m blocking the entrance. Sasha trailed behind me, probably wanting to see if this relationship is real or fake. She seemed suspicious enough before to make me think she’s not buying it.

Blushing, I walk out, and even though I’ve gotten out of everyone’s way, no one moves. They’re looking at Javier and me. And no one’s eyes are sharper than Sasha Hall’s.

“You didn’t have to come meet me,” I tell him.

“Yes, I did.” He’s holding a coffee in each hand. That doesn’t stop him from looping his arms around me and stepping in close to touch his lips to mine. “How was class, Gatinha?” his voice is so intimate I hide an involuntary shiver.

Someone behind me sighs. Could be Sasha, but no way in hell am I twisting around to confirm it. He really is determined to play the perfect fake boyfriend, and hell, if I saw all this, I’d buy it.

Pretend, I remind myself. This is just pretend, so stop thinking there is more to this than there is.

“It was okay,” I mumble, aware none of my classmates are leaving. “Everyone is staring,” I whisper, blushing.

He dips his head and whispers back. “Do you think they want me to kiss you again?”

I look from his eyes to his mouth, and frankly, I don’t care what they want. I just know what I want.

Javier must know it too.

And Javier, in full view of my class, lowers his head and kisses me again, long and deep, toe-curling perfect, and everything a kiss should be. With his hips flush against me, it’s clear this kiss is having as much of an effect on him as it is on my pebbled nipples.

“You’re really good at that,” I breathe out, fluttering my eyes open when he breaks the kiss.

“Of all the women in the world, I’m glad you think so. Now…” the corners of his eyes crease when he smiles, “… can I give you this coffee before I fling it to the floor and grab you instead?”

I’m not even joking when I ask, “What coffee?”

He laughs as he leads the way from my building. When I peer over my shoulder, Sasha has her phone to her ear, mouth moving a million miles a minute. I hope whatever she says finds its way to Marc because I haven’t seen him since the frat party, but everyone he knows has to be telling him about his ex-girlfriend dating three hockey players.

Javier holds out the two paper cups. “You decide. I got a couple of the fancy lattes. Salted caramel and⁠—”

“Salted caramel.” I make grabby hands.

He laughs. “You don’t even want to hear the other one?”

“There is no other one.” Then I freeze, fingers wrapped around the paper cup I’ve lifted to my mouth. “Unless this was the one you wanted?”

“And if I were to say yes?” His eyes sparkle with amusement.

I hand him the cup. “Here. I’ll take the other one. The…” I read the printed label on the other paper cup. Who the hell likes hazelnut? I swallow my disgust and mask it with a smile. “Hazelnut sounds nice.”

He laughs. “So, you’re a terrible liar, and you love salted caramel lattes. What else don’t I know about you?”

“I’m not that bad,” I deny.

He takes the hazelnut coffee I don’t want and hands me the salted caramel latte that I would inject into my bloodstream if I could. “You are worse than my little sister, and I thought no one could lie as badly as her.”

“You have a sister?” I ask.

His expression softens into one that is nothing less than love.

“I do. Nessa is the unwanted little sister I was determined to put on the doorstep the second my parents turned their backs.”

“But she won you over?”

He returns my smile. “She did.”

“You’re so lucky. I’m an only child, but I’d have killed to have a brother or sister. Does she go here?”

His smile fades, and I kick myself for asking. “No. She’s finishing up high school in Boston.”

I take a sip from my coffee, relieved it’s not burning hot. “But you miss her?”

“I do. My parents are not the biggest fans of my giving up medicine to play hockey. In their eyes, I can do better. Nessa cares more about whether it’s something that makes me happy than what it is I do.”

“They care,” I reassure him. “My dad was the same when I said I wanted to work in a chocolate factory when I was a kid.”

He raises an eyebrow.

I shake my head. “He worried about me making the wrong choice and living with regret. After my mom died, he told me if I choose the wrong thing, who cares? I have a lifetime to try something else. The important thing is I do whatever makes me happy. You should tell them how you feel about hockey. They’d understand.”

He takes a sip from his cup and makes a face. “Wow, is this pure sugar?”

“Yup. So is this one.” I take another big sip, sigh happily, then continue, “Do they know you love it?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve actually told them?”

He slows our pace. “Not exactly.”

“You should tell them. My dad wants me to stay safe. If I told him I wanted to join a circus and be a trapeze artist, he would obviously worry, but if he knew I loved it, he’d be sitting front row, praying I wouldn’t fall on my head.”

“A trapeze artist?”

I wince. “It was the first thing I could think of.”

He considers me for a beat and sighs. “I shouldn’t be boring you with this.”

I scrunch my nose, surprised. “Why would I be bored?”

“It’s not something I talk much about with anyone.”

“Even Reid and Caleb?”

“Even them. I did before, but it’s been years, and nothing has changed. There’s only so much you can complain and bitch about something before you feel like you should drop it.”

“If you want to talk, I don’t mind listening.”

A soft, small smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “You are very sweet, Gatinha.”

I look away, blushing. “No, I’m not.”

“You say what’s on your mind, and your feelings are right there in your eyes.”

I panic slightly at that. I’ve always been an open book. It’s something I got from my dad. So, to hear Javier say something like that when I’m struggling to hold onto the fact that our relationship is fake worries me.

“Tobie?”

I try to wipe all expression from my face so I’m no longer so easy to read. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to sit for a bit?” He nods at a bench.

“Sure.”

We take a seat, clasping our coffees and watching other students.

“Why did you transfer here?” I ask.

He blinks, and I continue, “I don’t mean to say you should leave or anything.”

A dimple forms on his right cheek. “I hope not.”

“Just that moving schools had to have been a big deal, and you’re still majoring in biology, right? Couldn’t you have played hockey at Harvard? Don’t they have a team?”

“They do.” He nods. “And I could have.”

“But?”

“I needed to be somewhere new. In Harvard, I was pre-med, Javier Duarte, and…”

“And?” I prompt.

“I was a little too close to my parents, not ideal when I was turning my back on everything they wanted for me.”

“Reid was telling me about his brother and the draft.”

He flashes me a smile. “And it didn’t put you to sleep?”

“Surprisingly, no,” I admit, which makes him laugh. “Why didn’t you go in the draft if it’s what you wanted to do?”

“I guess I could have or played in a minor league,” he admits.

“But?”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “I needed to know if hockey was what I wanted before I went pro.”

“And is it?”

He nods. “It is.”

“And here you get to be who you want to be instead of pre-med Javier Duarte,” I say, reading between the lines.

“Exactly.” He gives me a long look. “Not many people get that.”

I shrug, looking away as I lift my cup to take a sip. “I’m from a small town in Nebraska, and I love the people in Lawrenceburg, but I will never be anything other than the Tobie everyone knows.”

“Marc was from there?”

My fingers curl around my warm cup. I hadn’t believed that Caleb, Reid, or Javier would want to talk about anything that wasn’t to do with hockey, least of all about my ex-boyfriend.

“Sorry, you don’t want to talk about him,” he apologizes.

I aim a small smile his way. “I was being judgmental, and I didn’t even realize until now.”

“About?”

“You. Jocks, in general, I guess. We were high school sweethearts and everyone expected us to move back home, get married, have kids, you know?”

He listens with his entire body. Someone yells something across the quad, and he doesn’t even turn to see what the screaming is about. “What did you expect?”

I shrug. “I guess I wanted the same. You should tell your parents how you feel about hockey.”

“It wouldn’t change anything.”

“It might if they knew you loved it.”

“What makes you think I love it?”

“You changed your whole life for it. You don’t see your sister enough and miss her badly. That makes me think it’s more than something you don’t just like to do. It’s something you need to do.”

He bumps his shoulder against mine. “You’re perceptive.”

I shake my head. “Not really. I learned to listen from my dad.” I sip from my coffee. “After my mom died in eighth grade, my dad tried really hard to love me extra hard so I wouldn’t miss out on love.”

“That sounds tough,” he says.

“It was. It could have been harder, but I still had my dad.” Reid lost both his parents, and I couldn’t imagine how hard that would have been. I smile. “My dad still has a closet full of Beanie Babies from when I went through a phase.”

A smile creases his eyes. “A closet?”

I nod. “It was an obsession. Tell your parents. They’ll want you to be happy.”

“You really listen, don’t you?”

I glance at him. “What?”

He’s staring across the quad, brow furrowed. “All girls care about is hearing me say something sexy.” He looks at me. “Because of my accent.”

“Well, it is a nice accent,” I say. “I’m not exactly immune to it either, you know.”

He laughs. “Well, I appreciate the honesty.”

We sit together for the next several minutes, saying nothing. Neither of us moves, even after we’ve finished our drinks.

It’s nice.

Being with Javier isn’t the same as being with Caleb or Reid, but I still feel this connection with him, like he’s always been a part of my life. It is surreal.

“You ready for me to walk you to your dorm?” he finally asks.

“You don’t have to do that. Marc is probably back in his dorm now.”

Javier gets to his feet and holds his hand out for mine. “I’m not doing it for Marc. I’m doing it for you. And a little for me as well. I like talking with you, Tobie Myers.”

I place my hand in his large, strong one, and he pulls me to my feet with painful ease. “Me too.”

Chapter 23

Tobie

I’m back at the scene of the crime, and everyone is staring at me.

Okay, so maybe they’re not. I haven’t dared look around me since I slumped into my seat in the Fairfax Arena with an extra-large container of popcorn to use as a shield. It wasn’t all that long ago since my public humiliation, so everyone who saw it won’t have had time to forget all about it.

Thankfully, I did not have to pay the price of a family car for the popcorn. Javier said I had a credit to spend so I could get what I wanted from any of the concession stands. I have a feeling it’s more of a credit card tab coming out of his pocket, since I have never heard of anything like that before.

“Tobie!”

I duck.

Before I can hide behind my ginormous tub of popcorn, I spot Reid, who stopped warming up on the ice to wave at me. And because he’s paying me all that lovely attention, so is everyone else.

Fantastic.

I wave back.

“You know him?” A girl in the row in front of me twists around to ask me.

“Uh, yeah, I uh…” I cram a handful of popcorn in my mouth and chew rapidly so I don’t have to be the center of attention for a second longer than I have already.

I release a sigh of relief when the game starts, and everyone focuses on the ice instead of on me. It’s weird to be sitting in the season ticket holders’ section of the arena. I feel like a fraud because I don’t like sports, and I’m not even wearing a Wolverines’ jersey.

My nerves were frayed as I entered the arena with a ticket for the game that Javier gave me the day before. Then I spotted Hallie near the concession stands, laughing with her friends, and I had a flashback to what she’d said before.

Puck bunny.

That’s what she’d called me.

I’ve tried to deny it to myself, but she’s right.

I’m here to play pretend girlfriend and not because I have any interest in hockey.

Within minutes, I’m shivering. My glasses are fogging up, which, I guess, doesn’t really matter since even if I could see properly, I’d still have no clue what’s going on. I just know it’s not as much fun as the game I played with Caleb and the kids.

My eyes skate around the arena as I chew my popcorn.

Chants start and spread before dying down. People gasp and yell, fully immersed in a sport they love.

Then there’s me, busy counting down to the end of this game so I can slip away like the fraud I am.

My eyes settle on an attractive blond couple on my right.

Both are laughing as they point at something on the ice.

Marc and the girl he brought to the last game.

As if he feels my attention, he glances at me, and his smile fades.

I look away.

I’m getting ready to leave when the energy in the arena changes.

Figures are traversing the ice like they were born to it. I recall my Bambi-like ice skating prowess, and I mentally snort at myself.

A natural, Reid said. Yeah, right.

On my left, someone mutters something about the Magic Three, and I know they must all be on the ice now.

Caleb, Reid, and Javier.

With their dark blue, silver, white, and pale blue uniforms with helmets, it takes me a minute to pick them out by the numbers on the backs of their jerseys—Caleb is #9, Reid is #16, and Javier is #20.

When they’re on the ice, they make magic happen. That’s what Reid and Javier told me. It sounds utterly ridiculous, but the crowd is hushing up and leaning toward the ice as if they don’t want to blink in case they miss that magic.

The anticipation is thick. It wraps around me, and my breath sticks in my throat as I wait for that magic too.

There’s no mistaking Caleb. He’s always had this presence that draws attention to him and holds it.

He’s in the center, puck in front of his stick.

“It’s easy, Myers,” Caleb told me at the park. “Just score more goals than the other team. That’s it.”

He never looks up.

Occasionally, he turns to the others, but whatever he says is lost to the cheers and the roaring crowd.

I just watch him, and I wonder how he isn’t withering under all the arena’s attention on him. He is literally shouldering everyone’s hopes and dreams, and I’m the one sweating from that pressure. How does he do it?

His first goal is so effortless, I don’t even know how it happens.

One moment he’s skating ahead, the puck gliding between three figures, and the next, the puck is in the back of the net, an alarm blares, and they’re all skating away again.

Everyone is already on their feet as I scramble to mine. Then they’re settling back down again, leaving me as the only one still standing.

The announcer is talking through the goal as Caleb steps off the ice and turns to look right at me. I have to be wrong. Why would he be looking at me?

I dip my head, embarrassed when people look at me too.

I cheer when everyone else does, and I try to forget that Marc is sitting feet away on a date with the girl he cheated on me with.

Minutes later, I’m stuffing more popcorn into my mouth when I freeze as my face, complete with a love heart, appears on the big screen.

You have got to be joking.

Whoever is controlling that kiss cam needs to die because they have a serious vendetta against me.

Everyone is twisting around to look at me. I’m getting redder as the guy sitting on my left leans away, not interested in getting sucked into this humiliation. And why would he?

The camera isn’t moving as the crowd cheers their encouragement. But it’s just me. There’s no one for me to kiss.

I shrivel like a prune, scrunching up in my seat as I raise my popcorn to shield my flaming red face from the zooming camera.

I ignore the commotion coming from my left as I slide down my seat so I can hide on the floor.

The crowd yells louder. Someone gasps. Someone else laughs.

I don’t dare move the popcorn from my face.

Suddenly, someone grips my wrist and hauls me to my feet.

Reid.

Wait. Isn’t he supposed to be in the players’ box?

He’s flushed, sweat on his face, an extreme case of hat hair like he wrenched his helmet from his head and didn’t so much as run a hand through it to tame it.

A grin splits his handsome face. “No way was I going to pass this up, Tobie.”

I blink, confused, until he takes the popcorn from my hand, passes it to the guy on my left, and draws me into a luscious, perfect kiss I feel from the top of my head to my curling toes.

The world ends.

It’s just Reid, me, and this perfect kiss. His lips are slightly cold, but the arms he wraps around me are strong and warm. When he angles his head slightly and parts his mouth, he tastes like a fresh forest and warm caramel.

He releases a soft groan into my mouth as he lifts me, and the sound tugs something deep inside me.

My feet leave the floor as I wrap my arms around him.

It’s only when he breaks the kiss that the world penetrates our bubble.

We’re still on the big screen as the crowd cheers and shouts.

The coach, near the ice, is screaming, “Graves, get your ass back down here!”

“You’re in trouble,” I whisper.

“Don’t care. Kiss me again,” he whispers back.

Laughing, I lean in and kiss him, caught up in an electric moment that feels like a dream that could never ever happen to me.

But it is happening.

The coach is screaming at him to get back in the box. The crowd is yelling and wolf-whistling, and I care about absolutely none of that because this man is kissing me like nothing exists in his world but me.

When he ends the kiss, he grins at me and sets me back on my feet. My knees are weak, and I lean against my seat as Reid grips the bottom of his jersey, pulling it over his head and over mine. It smells like him—fresh, sweet peppermint, and so comforting, it’s like a warm hug.

He winks. “So the guys know you’re mine.”

He returns my popcorn bucket to me, grabs a handful, and returns to his screaming coach, shirtless, back muscles rippling, grinning, and completely unrepentant.

Even when Coach benches him.

And I can’t help but laugh when whoever is controlling the big screen shows a slow-motion repeat of the kiss cam. Thankfully, not me hiding behind my bucket of popcorn. The thing I missed was Reid leaping up from his bench in the box, ripping off his helmet, flinging it aside, and charging up the arena stairs, ignoring the people shouting his name and clapping him on the arm.

Because he was focused on me.

And I hold my breath as I watch the footage of him pulling me from my seat and hauling me in for a kiss that makes me tingle all over again.

This is pretend. I know it’s just pretend, but that kiss felt so real.

When the game starts again, I feel eyes on me and hunt out my observer.

Marc’s date is trying to get his attention and failing.

He’s too busy staring at me, and his expression is a mix of troubled and confused.

I look away, hiding my smile.

He’s jealous.

This fake-date agreement is actually working.

Chapter 24

Javier

It’s nearly nine o’clock, and we’re in Reid’s room, decompressing after the game.

We scraped by with a win. Not exactly winning in the emphatic fashion we’d have all liked, but Caleb was relieved not to have missed any shots, and we’re headed into the championships after spring break as the team to beat.

I hand Reid a beer.

He’s been in a strange mood since the game. He’s sitting on the floor, back to the wall, legs crossed, staring into nothing.

“Here!” I wave the beer in front of his face when he doesn’t take it.

He bats it away. “Not now, Jay.”

“It’s the last one, so don’t complain when you want one later.” I return to my seat on the bed and open the beer myself, shaking my head at Caleb, who is sitting at Reid’s computer desk, eyeing Reid curiously.

“I like her.”

Reid’s soft admission draws my attention back to him before I can lift my bottle to my lips.

I should have known this strange mood was because of Tobie.

As we were having a break between periods, Reid had glanced up at the screen and bolted from the players’ box.

I’d been confused as had everyone else, until we’d seen him kiss Tobie. The rest of the team had cheered with the crowd until Coach glared at them. Everyone stopped, but Caleb bumped my shoulder and said out of the side of his mouth. “She must fucking hate that kiss cam. And you know what? So do I.”

Her last experience with the kiss cam had scarred her. Tobie would have walked out of the arena and never returned if she’d faced another humiliation because of it.

But she hadn’t because of Reid, who put himself firmly on the firing line for doing something so insane that none of us can believe he’s still on the team.

Coach spent an hour after the game screaming at him.

He’d walked into his office, then was back five minutes later to scream at Reid some more.

And yet, after being chewed on, spat out, and chewed out some more, Reid hasn’t lost his stupid smile two hours after the game ended.

We skipped the after-game party because of Tobie. She’d left the arena soon after the game, texting to say she was tired and going home, even though we’d told her she could come to the locker room to celebrate with us.

After a quick shower in the locker room, we headed to Reid’s room to talk.

“You don’t know her,” Caleb says, frowning.

He’d been tense during the first period, and after he’d scored his first goal, I caught him doing something he never does. He looked up at the stands.

At Tobie.

Caleb denied it when I asked him about it, but I saw it.

Reid snorts. “I don’t need to know everything about a person to know how I feel. I don’t want this to be pretend with Tobie, and it doesn’t feel like it is. She feels more real to me than anyone I’ve been with before.”

I take another sip from my beer as I process his admission. Reid is all about feelings, so none of that surprises me.

“Because of the kiss?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I felt this way before the kiss.” He stares into the distance. “She’s funny.”

“Funny how?” Caleb asks.

The fact he’s still here is a surprise. The old Caleb would still be camped out on the ice. Maybe because he didn’t miss a shot, but I don’t think that’s why.

I laugh as Reid fills us in on the skating lesson he gave Tobie and her clinging to the rink side. Even Caleb is trying not to smile at Tobie’s fear that she would fall through the ice to Australia.

“She’s sweet,” I say.

“She’s special, and she doesn’t realize how special she is,” Reid says softly. “I want to be the one to show her and make her laugh. Make her happy. You know?”

I do know.

“The championship is around the corner,” Caleb warns.

“I’m not saying that I’m going to abandon all hockey for her. Just… I know this isn’t the best time to fall, but when I’m with Tobie, things just feel right. Like I’m in this bubble with her, and that’s all that matters.”

“Being with her is easy.” I sit back on the bed and think about how I feel when I’m with Tobie. “She wants nothing from me. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. And she doesn’t wear a mask at all. I sat with her on a bench in the quad for an hour, and I could have sat there for another hour, and it wouldn’t have been long enough.”

“You like her too.” Caleb blinks at me.

“I do.” And I hadn’t expected to.

Tobie is opening my eyes to how much I’ve missed having a relationship that wasn’t just meaningless, empty sex. I want something deeper with someone I can be honest with and who will be honest right back. I want Tobie. Not just because she’s beautiful and listens better than anyone I’ve ever met before, but because being with her feels right.

I sip from my beer as Reid stares into space, and Caleb bounces his gaze between us for the next several seconds.

Shaking his head, Caleb gets to his feet and stretches out the kinks in his neck. “I better go. I want to go through the playbook and see if there’s any improving on them before the championship.”

“I’m thinking of asking her if she wants to make this fake relationship real,” I say as Caleb picks up his bag.

“We could ask her,” Reid says.

Caleb drops his bag with a thud. “Are you seriously talking about dating her? Sharing Tobie for real? Both of you?”

“There’s no guarantee she will like us,” Reid says.

I cock my head. “She could like neither of us, or she could like all of us.”

“But she said that thing back at the rink, so…”

“What thing?” Caleb frowns.

I arch my eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you had that⁠—”

“Do you honestly expect me to go anywhere now? We need to talk about this. What did Tobie say?”

Reid’s mouth quirks into a smile. “Just that she thought there’s a little more softness beneath your grumpy exterior that she likes.”

“She said that?” Caleb is doing his best to look offended at the accusation that any part of him is soft, but I’m not buying it. Neither is Reid, from his smirk.

Caleb takes a gulp from his beer. “And if she did like us all, then what?”

“What’s there to talk about?” I ask, intending to open Caleb’s eyes to the fact he’s into Tobie much more than he wants to admit to himself. “I mean, I wouldn’t say this really involved you.”

“Of course, it involves me,” he snaps. “I’m dating her too.”

We stare at him.

“Fake dating her,” he corrects himself.

Reid chuckles. “Sure.”

“So if she did like us, then what?”

“Then we give it a go, the way you try with any new relationship,” I say.

“And sex?” Reid asks quietly. “I haven’t slept with her yet.”

“Neither have I,” I admit. “I want to, but when Tobie is ready for it. I figured she was still getting over her ex hurting her, so going slow is what she needs right now.”

“And if this interferes with the game?” Caleb presses.

I shrug. “There’s no reason it should. We both like Tobie. Both want to make her feel good⁠—”

“Treat her better than that fuckwit who doesn’t deserve her did,” Reid says.

“And if she likes one of you and not the other?” Caleb asks.

“Then I’ll back off,” I say.

“And I’ll back off if she wants Jay and not me,” Reid says.

“How is this supposed to even work? Say she does like us? Then what? Is this going to last? How? Is she going to expect us all to sleep together?”

We fall silent.

Reid fidgets. “She’s not going to want to sleep with us all.”

“We can’t talk about that with her,” Caleb agrees. “She’ll think it’s what we want or expect, and it’ll scare her off.”

“I know that,” I add.

But we all look at each other, and I cannot be the only one thinking, what if?

We’ve never shared a woman because we’ve never liked the same girl before. But what would it be like to have Tobie in the middle of us, to share her?

Together.

“I have to go.” Caleb gets up and grabs his bag.

“Yeah.” I put my beer down and push myself to my feet. “Me too.”

None of us look each other in the eye as Caleb heads for his room, and I head for mine.

The first place I go after I dump my bag on my bed is the bathroom to a freezing cold shower to do something about my painful erection.

Thirty minutes later, I’m slipping into bed fully aware that all my dreams tonight are going to revolve around a certain woman and an event that will never happen.

When a knock sounds at my door, I glare at it. “I’m not partying tonight!”

Not all the guys on my floor recognize that my nickname might be Casanova, but it was a name I cultivated more to keep people at a distance than to keep them close.

Casanova doesn’t settle down. He fucks who he wants. It’s always casual, never permanent, and he moves on to the next girl with a smile, treating her right, but that’s it.

No more.

At least until Tobie entered the picture.

When I’m in my room or with Reid and Caleb, I’m not Casanova, the guy with the sexy accent women love. I’m just Javier or Jay.

The knock sounds again, louder this time. Whoever it is isn’t going away.

Forgoing a shirt since it’s probably one of my teammates trying to convince me to go to a party, I unlock my door, swing it open, and lean way the fuck back when Daniela stands on her tiptoes to kiss me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask my ex-girlfriend.

She beams at me, brown eyes hooking mine. “You haven’t been returning my calls or texts.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay to show up at my dorm at nearly eleven o’clock.” I grasp her arms and nudge her back when she leans in again. “Stop trying to kiss me.”

A door snicks open, and Killian, another teammate, sticks his head out, flicking his gaze between Daniela and me. His blue eyes linger on Daniela, who dressed up for this visit in a short red dress and heels, her long brown hair in loose curls.

“All good, Casanova?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Great.” My smile is all teeth, but he nods and disappears into his room.

Since I’m not having Daniela in my room, and I don’t need her unwanted appearance getting back to Tobie, I grab my keys and grasp her arm, stepping out into the hallway. “You’re going. Now.”

“But I came all this way to see you.”

“Why?” I don’t slow my pace as I lead her down the hallway, ignoring the creak behind me as one of my nosy roommates sticks his head out to investigate our raised voices.

I shove open the staircase doors and lead Daniela down them.

“Because I missed you,” Daniela says.

“No, you don’t.” I look at her. “Did my mother send you?”

Her nose wrinkles. “No. Why?”

I keep walking. “You need to leave.”

“But Javi…”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap.

We’re outside in front of my dorm building two minutes later. It’s only when the door slams shut after me that I realize I’m in my bare feet and boxers.

Fucking half naked.

It’s cold, but my rage is keeping me plenty warm.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“I just wanted to see you.” She bridges the distance between us.

I take a step back, wanting nothing to do with this situation or her. “No, you wanted something from me. Just like always. What is it? Attention because your new fiancé isn’t giving you enough of his? For me to tell you I miss you so you can feel good about turning your back on me when I most needed you? What?”

She’s not wearing her new engagement ring. Why? Was this just a late-night booty call, and she’d get back in her car tomorrow morning and drive back to her soon-to-be doctor fiancé?

I hadn’t needed anyone more than Daniela after I arrived in Lamont three years ago. I’d dropped out of Harvard and left pre-med, determined not to waste my life on something that didn’t make me happy.

When it’s your time to go, money means shit because all you have when you’re on your deathbed are the memories of the life you lived.

I didn’t want to be on my deathbed filled with regret the way my grandpa was.

He left me more money than I will ever spend, but I’d pay twice over to have him back. I couldn’t even call to speak to my little sister without my mom getting hold of the phone and making me feel guilty for giving up pre-med.

But I had Daniela.

I had the woman who loved me as much as I loved her, would be my wife, and stick by my side.

Except I didn’t have her.

I never had her.

Because what she wanted wasn’t me. It was the idea of me. The person I would be one day. And that wasn’t a doctor, so she replaced me.

Her lip trembles. “Javier, please don’t be mad at me.”

I take a step back. “You’ve tried that before, Daniela. It didn’t work before, and it won’t work now. Go back to Boston. Don’t come back here. Stop calling and texting me. Move on with your life. I have.”

I turn to leave.

“So you’ve met someone, then?” Her voice is brittle.

I keep walking.

“I heard they call you Casanova, but you’re no Casanova. Are you fucking someone else?”

I stop.

No, because, for once, it’s not just about sex. It’s about so much more than that.

Something new.

Something with two guys who feel like family and a girl who is sweet, beautiful, and real. She feels like someone I wouldn’t just want forever, but someone I need.

That means doing something I should have done long before now.

I press my keycard on the door. “Go home, Daniela, and forget my number. I stopped loving you so long ago, I can’t even remember how it felt.”

She’s speaking as the door slams shut behind me.

I don’t turn around, and I stop listening.

She’s in my past, and I’ve had enough of her dragging me back into it.

No more.

Chapter 25

Tobie

What are you doing?

I knock sharply on Reid’s door. That kiss changed things, and I have to do something about it, even if I’m wrong.

If I am wrong, then at least I’ve contained my humiliation to one person instead of a packed arena.

As the seconds tick down, my nerves ramp up, and I turn to leave when the door suddenly swings open.

Reid fills the doorway.

It’s late, for me at least, nearly ten forty-five, and he’s dressed—or barely dressed—for bed in a pair of low-slung boxers.

That’s it.

Just an obscene amount of tanned, muscled chest and a pair of navy briefs that aren’t doing nearly enough to conceal⁠—

“Tobie?”

I rip my eyes from his pants to the surprised smile on Reid’s face.

And I stare at him.

His smile fades. “What’s wrong? Did that jackass⁠—”

“I’m a good girl,” I blurt out, then wince, glancing down the hallway to make sure it’s still empty. It is. Clearing my throat, I lower my voice. “I, uh… I don’t do this.”

Reid cocks his head, confused. “Do what?”

I pull on the belt of my coat and hold the front open. “This.”

His eyes dip, and he gulps so hard I track his bobbing Adam’s apple.

The last ten minutes were some of the most intensely stressful in my life.

As I hurried across the quad, head down, I hugged myself to make double and triple sure that the belt on my coat wouldn’t come undone, and I wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency when I accidentally flashed someone.

The stress melts away as Reid’s fingers tighten around the edge of the door, and he seems utterly incapable of taking his eyes off me.

I swear my boobs are a half inch away from falling out of my pink demi bra that I paired with the matching lacy thong and thigh-high stockings.

He doesn’t seem to notice I’m wearing my pink Chucks because there was no way I was wearing high heels in case I broke my ankle and wound up in the ER in a trench coat and underwear.

So it had to be sneakers.

“Um, Reid?”

He scrubs a hand over his eyes. “This, uh… isn’t a dream, is it?” he asks, so hopefully, I don’t regret doing such an un-Tobie-like thing for even a second.

Smiling, I rise to my tiptoes and kiss him softly on the lips. “Not a dream.”

He pushes the door open wider. “Come inside before one of the guys on my floor sees you and jumps you.”

“And you?” I whisper as his breathing grows heavier. “What do you intend to do to me?”

I’m in his room, back to the wall, and his lips are on mine before I know what’s happening.

Thud.

I jump, startled by the slamming door.

He breaks the kiss. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I⁠—”

His lips are back on mine, hands roving under my coat, my ass, my breasts. He groans thickly and hauls me close. “Fuck. You feel good.” He breaks away, breathing hard, his forehead against mine. “I have to slow down.”

I wrap my arms around his waist. “I thought you were going to laugh at me when I did this.”

“You thought I would laugh when the girl I’ve wanted more than anything else in the world knocked on my door, intending to seduce me?”

I nod.

“This is the stuff of dreams.” He hauls me into his arms. Then he frowns. “What do you have in your pocket?”

I blush. I blush hard.

“Tobie?” He leans back to meet my gaze.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my large handful of condoms when I practically emptied a machine in the girls’ bathroom.

Reid stares, jaw slack. “Shit. I hope I’m not about to disappoint you.”

“I wasn’t sure if you had any,” I explain. “And I really wanted to do this.”

“With me?”

He slants his head, his lips hover over mine, and his hand fists the back of my hair.

“With you,” I breathe out.

His kiss is deep, lingering and so sweet, as if he’s still forcing himself to keep the pace slow, even as he pushes my coat off my shoulders.

I shiver as he runs his palms up my back and down again, gripping my ass and tucking my body flush against his.

As I hook my arms around the back of his neck, I’m ready to slide down the wall into a puddle on the floor from his kisses alone.

His palms slide over my waist, cupping my hips. They don’t just stroke, they caress every inch as his tongue traces the seam of my lips and he inserts a muscled thigh between my legs.

I’m grinding my pussy against his thigh to relieve the mounting tension. He drags his knuckle down over my right breast, back up, and I moan into his mouth when he plucks my nipple. Yes. I’m riding his thigh as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, and he’s holding me against him, timing each thrust of his tongue with my rocking motions.

He breaks the kiss so suddenly that I’m lost until he wrenches my bra down, takes my nipple into his mouth, and I buck.

I’m trembling all over, head back, bra cups shoved down to expose my breasts to Reid’s hungry gaze as he goes to his knees.

His boxers have tented. He doesn’t seem to notice or even care. He’s that laser-focused on my pussy.

“Reid?” I grip his hair, not sure if I’m trying to stop or drag him closer.

His hands stroke the curve of my belly, and he hooks the waistband of my panties and draws them down my legs. “No screaming. The guys on my floor stay up late.”

He licks his lips, and my breath hitches at the sight of his tongue. He’s going to put that on me.

In me.

When he peers up at me, there’s a trace of amusement in his flint-gray gaze. “Unless it’s my name.”

I drag air into my mouth. “Huh?”

“If you’re going to scream, I won’t have a problem if it’s my name, beautiful.”

I’m laughing as his fingers dig into the globes of my ass, and he yanks me forward, putting his mouth on me.

“Oh God.” Within seconds, I’m writhing, squirming, doing everything humanly possible to crawl up the wall.

He kisses my inner thigh. “That’s it.”

He holds my hips and draws close, his tongue teasing, lapping, tasting.

My head is pressed against the wall, one leg draped over Reid’s muscled shoulder, and his tongue in me. I bite off a gasp as he licks up, circles my swollen clit with his tongue, and groans as he laps faster as if he can’t get enough.

We’re rocking together. Faster. My moans are getting louder, and I couldn’t silence them for all the money in the world. He controls the pace, lightly sucking my clit as I dance closer to the edge.

He slides one finger inside me. Then two, curls both, and I’m done.

The only reason I don’t wind up a puddle on the floor is his hand on my hip, keeping me up.

“Perfect,” he says softly, still smiling as he returns to me. “You are absolutely perfect, Tobie Myers, and there is not one thing I would change about you.”

“I, uh… didn’t think about what comes next,” I say sheepishly, still breathing hard. “I wasn’t thinking much beyond the trench coat, the lingerie, and a pocket full of condoms. Oh, and not getting arrested by accidentally flashing someone.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, his lips curling into a smile.

I giggle when he tickles my side. “Reid…”

He bends his head and very softly brushes his lips over mine. “See, the only thing better than kissing you is putting a smile on your face. Wrap your arms around me, beautiful.”

I don’t hesitate to follow along with his soft order. “And then…”

I gasp as my feet leave the floor.

I’m not light, but he lifts me easily, carrying me over to the bed and laying me on it. “This.”

I toe off my Chucks and Reid grins as they thump to the floor. “What? I figure you did the carrying, I should do something.” He’s smiling down at me as I run the tips of my fingers over his cheek. “That kiss in the arena. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” he says quietly. “I saw your face pop up on that big screen, and I couldn’t help but feel.”

I stroke my hands over him, taking my time exploring every groove as our lips brush, tongues tangle, and he groans when I dig my fingers into the strong muscles of his back.

And I swear he holds his breath as I slide his boxers down, and he takes over, shoving them the rest of the way.

“You still want this, beautiful?” he breathes out, fingers stroking the hair back from my face.

“Yes.”

He grabs a condom, tearing off the corner with his teeth, but when he moves to slip it on, I catch his wrist. “Let me.”

I roll the condom over the tip, and he holds his breath, then releases it in a rush as I smooth it the rest of the way over him.

“Shit,” he whispers, trembling. “I wanted this to be slow. And you, beautiful, are determined to blow my fucking mind open. Get it on. I need to be inside you.”

Laughing, I give him a gentle squeeze, which makes him groan.

I wrap my arms around him as my breath slows, anticipation thick in the air.

His hips move back, and my belly tightens.

And he stops.

He stares down at me for two full seconds, his hands cupping my face and his eyes searching mine. “Fuck. I can’t believe this is real.”

He presses his blunt tip between my thighs. I part them, making more room for him, holding his gaze, nails in his skin, a moan falling from my lips as he pushes.

We both groan at the first inch, and I grab desperately at his arms as he slowly impales me. He’s big, stretching me, making me feel so alive with each inch he buries inside me. I never want this to stop.

“Too much?” he stops.

“More.”

He’s trembling, his hands flexing on me, and I know he’s still trying to slow things down. Trying to give me the slow and sweet he seems to think I deserve.

“Harder,” I moan.

He’s panting. “Tobie…” He gasps. “Shit, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” I wrap my legs around him, dig my heels into his lower back, and work myself on him in one rocking motion that buries him to the hilt.

His control snaps.

The headboard slams into the wall with each hard thrust of his cock inside me. I’m filling the room with moans I should stop in case anyone hears me. But I can’t stop. I want more. Need more. We thrust together, bodies writhing, lips hungry.

Every part of him is so much bigger than I am, yet he feels like he was meant to live inside me. He fills and completes me, snatching up all the empty, aching parts and replacing them with pure feelings.

He’s groaning loudly, each thrust ending in a rolling twist.

Those little twists will be the end of me.

My breathing changes. The sound of my heart pounding fills my head. I can’t drag enough air into my lungs.

Then the pleasure hits.

I dig my heels into the backs of his thighs. My hips buck, my stomach tenses as I choke out a moan, and I tighten around him.

He slams into me, holds me flush against him, and I feel him jerking, straining to go a little deeper into me.

We slump together, panting hard as we cling to each other. His back is damp and sweaty when I slide my arms around him.

Long minutes later, I run my fingers down Reid’s sweat-dampened back. “Reid?”

“Beautiful?”

“If I’d done this in my sweats?” I ask, curious about his response.

“If you’d shown up in your sweats?” His expression is thoughtful.

“Yeah. What would you have done?”

He rolls me onto my back, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I’d have made sure to love every inch of you.” His eyes are so soft and warm. It’s a look that steals all the air from my lungs. “And I’d never have stopped feeling like the luckiest guy in the world that it was my door you knocked on.”

I’m falling asleep when he kisses my hair. “You won’t sneak out on me and have me convinced this was just a dream, will you?”

I blink up at him. “No, why?”

But I think I might have. When the cold, hard reality of turning up at his door in a trench coat and lingerie hits me in the morning, I can totally see myself slipping away to do the walk of shame back to my dorm, even if I’m not feeling the least bit shameful now.

“I want to take you out for breakfast,” he says, yawning.

“But I don’t have clothes,” I remind him.

“You can wear my sweatpants and jersey.”

“I could just wear a T-shirt,” I remind him.

He kisses me. “I want you in something with my name on the back so everyone knows you’re mine.”

A tiny bit of me melts at his words. Hell. All of me melts.

“And will we go somewhere on campus?” Somewhere public, I mean, where everyone will see us.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and shakes his head. “No. This breakfast is just about you and me. I know a place.”

Yawning, I lean against him. “What place?”

Truth be told, I rarely leave campus. My introverted, socially anxious self finds a safe place and stays put. I’m all about routine and the familiar.

“A hole in the wall. The sort of place you think is a food poisoning waiting to happen.”

I smile against his neck. “You’re not really selling it to me.”

He laughs and squeezes me. “They make the best damn breakfast in town. You could eat off the kitchen floor, it’s that clean. It’s my favorite place other than the ice, and I want to take you there. I want to show you all of my favorite things.”

I touch his cheek. “I’m looking at one of mine.”

His smile is as achingly sweet as his kiss. “That so?”

I nod. “It is.”

Tonight feels so surreal. As if I’ve dreamed all this up, and I’ll wake up at any moment and I’ll be back in my dorm.

“What are you thinking?” Reid asks softly.

Smiling, I loop my arms around his shoulders. “That I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to kiss me again.”

“Wouldn’t mind it, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, expression thoughtful, though his lips twitch with barely concealed amusement. “Sounds like I have some improvements to make.”

I feign indifference. “I mean, your kisses aren’t exactly terrible but—” I dissolve into giggles when he mercilessly tickles me.

And once Reid has finished making me laugh, neither of us gets as much sleep as we should.

I lied.

Reid’s kisses are everything a girl could dream of. Just like he is.

Chapter 26

Caleb

Tobie is sitting on the top of a picnic table, laughing.

Her eyes are sparkling.

There is something so electric about that woman, I struggle to believe I never knew she existed until last week.

She’s real and funny and sweet.

I’ve never been around someone who wore their heart on their sleeve so openly like that before. I want to protect it because leaving yourself wide open like that means someone can lay waste to your heart. Someone already did.

That ex of hers.

How could he have hurt her?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the park.

She didn’t know a thing about hockey, claimed not to like it, and was visibly afraid of kids hurting her, but she still joined in and was open to laughing at herself to make them laugh.

Protecting someone like her should come easy. Hurting someone like her should be impossible.

I’m about to walk over to them when Tobie slides off the table and reaches for her bag. “I have to go.”

Reid circles her wrist and tugs slightly, drawing her in for a kiss that she instantly leans into.

From the way her body softens against his, I know they recently had sex.

I can always tell who Reid has slept with, and he definitely did with Tobie.

“Stay,” he tells her.

“Don’t you have to go to the gym this morning?” she reminds him.

He does.

It’s why I was looking for him. I knocked on his door this morning, and he didn’t answer. I texted him, and he said he was out having breakfast.

“Yep,” Reid says.

“And aren’t you going to get into trouble?”

“Probably,” he cheerfully admits.

She smiles. “And isn’t Caleb going to kill you?”

“There are worse reasons to die than because I spent time with you.” He draws her in for a kiss.

“Is there a reason you’re hiding behind a tree?”

I jump at Javier’s question coming from over my left shoulder.

His gaze slides from me to the picnic table, and his confusion clears. “Ah.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and watches them for a beat. “She looks happy.”

She does. But that’s Reid all over.

He has this ability to make a woman feel like she’s the only person in his orbit, and they fall for him hard and fast. I’m used to seeing the effect he has on women. But I’m not used to seeing Reid like this.

“So does he,” I add. “What happened to you this morning?”

Reid wasn’t the only one who flaked out on me when we usually leave to go to the gym together.

He makes a face. “Daniela.”

“She was calling again?”

“More like showing up at my door and expecting to spend the night.”

“Fuck.” I wince. “What happened?”

“I sent her on her way is what happened, and I did something I should have done years ago… I blocked her number. I hit the gym early this morning, but I’m still as pissed at her as I was last night. Sorry, I should have told you, but I left my phone in my room. Didn’t want it anywhere near me, to be honest.”

“Want to blow off class and fool around in the locker room?” Reid asks Tobie, distracting me from my conversation with Javier.

“No.”

“The library? It’s pretty quiet.”

She presses her palms flat to his chest. “I am not⁠—”

Reid bends his head and whispers in her ear.

“No,” she says, blushing. But her denial doesn’t hit like before. “We can’t do that…”

Reid whispers some more.

I nudge Javier, curious about what Reid is whispering that’s having such an effect on her. “What do you think he’s saying?”

“No clue, but I’d kill to know what it is,” he murmurs.

“So?” Reid lifts a brow.

“We can’t,” Tobie says. “It’s not hygienic.”

“But we could…” Reid goes back to whispering.

Tobie’s cheeks are red, her breathing heavy, and those gorgeous tits are swelling. And I have to know what Reid wants to do to her because our girl fucking loves it.

I shake my head.

Our girl?

This is fake.

She’s not really ours.

“Um.” Tobie swallows. “But no books would be damaged?”

“Not one book.” Reid crosses his fingers over his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“Then I guess we could. But…”

Reid whispers again.

She clamps her thighs together, and I suddenly have no interest in hitting the gym. I have to know what this is all about.

“What do you think he’s planning to do to her in the library?” I adjust myself in my pants as I watch them leave.

“What the fuck are you still doing there?”

I peer over my shoulder.

Javier is trailing them to the library. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

They’re not in the main library.

In a short hallway off the main room, study rooms are available to book for a few hours if you need a quiet space to work on a group project and not disturb others.

As I’m passing one, I spot Tobie through the glass window in the door.

She’s sitting at a desk in the study room. Alone.

I frown. “Where’s Reid?”

Tobie grips the edge of the desk, and her mouth falls open in a soundless moan.

My eyes dip.

I can’t see Reid, but I would bet anything that he’s under the desk.

“So that’s what he wanted to do to her,” Javier mutters.

Now that I know what he’s doing to her, I should leave.

I don’t know what compels me to knock on the door and push it open.

Tobie straightens, her eyes wide, as I step into the room. “Hey, Tobie. Busy studying?”

She nods. “Uh, yeah.”

I swallow my smile because there’s no book on the desk. There’s not even a pen.

Javier’s phone vibrates, and he plucks it from his pocket, glances at it, and releases a tired sigh. “It’s my sister, and I bet I know exactly what this is about. See you later.”

Tobie looks relieved as Javier answers the call and walks out of the room.

I heard her orgasm behind her closed door, and now Reid is under that table doing things to her to make her cheeks rosy and her nipples pebbled.

I want to see her orgasm. Right now.

“Have you seen Reid?”

She shakes her head. “Uh, no. It’s just me here.”

I let the door swing closed behind Javier and lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I feign casualness. “You don’t mind me keeping you company for a bit, do you?”

Her fingers tighten around the table’s edge, and she releases a choked breath. “Um…”

I cock my head, frowning slightly. “You sure you haven’t seen Reid? I could have sworn I saw you together earlier.”

“No. It was just…”

Her voice trails off, and I wonder what he’s doing for her eyes to nearly roll to the back of her head.

“Tobie?”

She breathes out a slow sigh. “Um. It’s just me here. Don’t you have practice now?”

And miss watching you come? “Nope. Want help studying?”

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Oh God!”

I bite back a smile. “Oh God?”

“Oh.” A soft whimper draws my gaze to her full lips. “I have to…”

“You have to what?” I ask, but I know.

She moves both hands under the table, maybe to grab onto Reid’s hair. Definitely not to stop him because she’s still looking right at me, lips parted. “I have to… I have to…”

“What?” I hold her gaze as my cock swells and hardens in response to the need in her eyes.

“Caleb…” The catch in her voice undoes me.

I’m out of the room and slamming into the one opposite.

It’s empty. Thank fuck.

I’m fumbling with my pants before the door has closed, yanking the zipper down and fisting the base of my cock as I fight back the need to come.

Neither of the doors closed properly—not mine or Tobie’s.

I hear Reid say, “That was fun.”

“Reid, you have to…”

My eyes are glued to the glass in my door that looks directly into their study room.

My mouth is dry as I watch Reid pin Tobie to the wall and kiss her throat. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Now,” she pleads. “Please, now.”

He fumbles with something out of view, through the gap in the door, I hear the metallic sound of a zipper.

I grip myself tighter in response to that sound, knowing what’s coming.

He lifts her. “Wrap your legs around me, baby. Let me give you what you need.”

She coils herself around him, and he rolls his hips.

I tighten my fist on my cock as I imagine I’m slowly pushing myself into her.

Tobie’s head falls back, and she moans, her fingers digging into Reid’s shoulders.

I tell myself to walk away. This isn’t for me.

But I’ve stepped into tar. My feet are sinking deeper into it with each passing second, and all I can do is watch Tobie’s face as Reid’s thrusts push her up the wall.

He’s groaning as he pumps into her. I’m fisting my cock as I watch. In my mind, it’s her tight pussy I’m sliding into and not my fist I’m fucking. She’s moaning, and the wet sound of sex faintly bleeds through the door.

He said she was wet.

How wet? Why the fuck do I need to know that more than I need to breathe?

I press my forehead to the cool glass, teeth gritted. I pump myself as Tobie bounces up and down Reid’s cock. In my mind, it’s not Reid. It’s me. I’m inside her, and each of my thrusts is sending her closer to the edge.

She must have been close before.

Then she’s falling. So am I. I swallow my groan as I pump harder. Then faster, drawing the pleasure out for as long as I can. A choked moan drips from her lips, her face tight with pleasure as her eyes slide my way.

I yank my head back before she can see me and struggle to adjust myself in my pants. My hands shake, and my legs aren’t steady. My knees certainly aren’t. But I slip out of the study room, let the door slam closed behind me, and walk out of the library.

What the fuck were you thinking, Caleb?

I’m not even at the bottom of the library stairs before I’m hard again, the memory of Tobie’s moans and the hitch in her voice as she fell filling my head.

Once again, I have a tent in my pants as I cross the quad, and once again, it’s because of Tobie.

If there was ever a time I needed to refocus my mind, it’s now.

I head for the gym.

If I do weights, they’re going to be light. After what I just saw, I don’t trust myself with anything heavy.

Chapter 27

Tobie

I haven’t stopped blushing since I left the library.

“I can’t believe I let you do that to me,” I whisper, tugging my shirt down.

Reid draws me into a side hug as he leads me down the library stairs. “It was fun. Admit it.” He grins.

It was.

And it shouldn’t have been.

Public sex is not for me.

“We should have been studying,” I remind him.

After he took me out for breakfast this morning, he said he needed help to work on his paper. That’s what we were about to do on the bench. Clearly, that did not happen.

His grin widens. “But what we did was so much more interesting than public policy. You have a cute blush.”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

His eyes dip. “What was up with the books?”

I cradle the small stack in my arms. On our way out of the library, I was convinced people were staring at me. “I didn’t want anyone to know what we were up to in there.”

“So, you grabbed the first books you could to check out while blushing and repeatedly dropping them on the way to the counter?” He laughs. “ ’Cause I have to say you were drawing more attention than you wanted.”

Yeah. Not my best idea.

I scan the quad as we make our way to Reid’s room so I can help him study.

“You looking for someone in particular?” Reid says with a smile.

I eye him curiously. “Are you sure Caleb wasn’t… you know, watching?”

“Yep,” he says promptly.

I grind to a halt. “What?”

He places a hand on my lower back and propels me along. “Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Why? You like the thought of him watching while I do things to you in public?”

I blush, glancing around to make sure no one is close enough to have heard him. Thankfully not.

“Look, there’s a picnic bench over there. Maybe we should…” He snags my hand and pulls me toward it.

I panic until Reid starts laughing. Slipping my hand from his, I dig my elbow into his side. “Ha ha.”

He slips his arm around my shoulder, and we continue to his dorm.

He’s smiling down at me, and I’m smiling up at him when I feel someone watching me.

I look to my left.

Marc.

He’s standing a few feet away, staring at us.

I look away.

Reid took me back to my dorm so I could take my thyroid meds and swap out the baggy sweats I borrowed from him when we left his room. I changed his sweatpants for one of my new jeans, but Reid kissed me and told me I looked too good in his jersey to change out of it.

Marc could not have seen me at a more perfect time—us smiling together, Reid’s arm draped possessively around my shoulder, me wearing his jersey.

And yet, I wish I hadn’t seen Marc at all. Now, when I do see him, I’m reminded that this isn’t real, even though it’s starting to feel all too real to me.

When Reid slows his steps, I peer up at him. “What is it?”

His expression is thoughtful. “Have you given any thought about what you’ll do when that jackass realizes he fucked up by letting you go?”

I snort. “That won’t happen.”

As we walk, he’s toying with the ends of my hair, and it feels so good I have to stop him when we get to his room.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if we didn’t just see the guy staring after you like a lost puppy.”

I laugh. “He was not staring after me like a lost puppy,” I deny as I peek over my shoulder to confirm if he’s still watching.

He is.

Reid arches his eyebrow. “You were saying?”

I chew my lip as I ponder Marc’s sudden fascination with me. Marc saw Reid’s kiss at the arena last night. That must be why. “He’s probably suspicious about all this attention you’re paying me.”

“Nope. This is jealousy, pure and simple.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Fine. I’ll prove it.” He stops and turns us around, so we’re headed back to the library.

“Did you forget something?”

“Not exactly.” He drops a kiss on my lips. “One minute.”

He jogs off, taking the library steps two at a time. I’m staring after him, confused about the one-minute comment when…

“Tobie?”

I jump, spinning around.

Marc is standing inches away, cheeks slightly red as if he sprinted toward me the second Reid left me.

I hug my randomly selected books to my chest. “Yeah?”

His eyes dip, and a corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile. “You look pretty.”

I’m in a pair of jeans, a creased hockey jersey that smells like Reid, my glasses because I couldn’t be bothered with contacts today, and I threw my hair into a scrunchie because I was too hungry for breakfast to fuss with it.

This isn’t the well-dressed, perfectly put-together Tobie Myers who’s supposed to convince Marc he made a mistake cheating on me.

This is the ordinary Tobie he cheated on. And he thinks I look pretty?

Make it make sense.

I back up. “Oh, thanks. Anyway, I better go.”

He moves closer, his hand out as if to grab me. “I, uh…”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Reid stepping out of the library. He made Marc think that he forgot something in the library to prove a point. And he was right.

The impossible is happening. Marc is acting like he wants me back.

“Yeah?” I prompt him.

Marc’s gaze drifts over my shoulder, all but confirming Reid is still there. “You going to the frat party tonight?”

After what he said to me at the last one? No thanks.

I shake my head. “Why?”

“Just wondered if you were going to be there. I mean, if you were, then I might see you.”

“Well, I won’t.”

He stares at me.

What happened to all his need to study for the LSATs? What happened to the girl he cheated on me with? And why is he acting like he doesn’t want me to leave?

He doesn’t speak for so long that I back up.

“You, uh, you really do look great.” His eyes search mine. “Happy.”

“Thanks.”

I turn to leave.

Again, he steps closer, and his eyes flick to the library. “So things are serious then?”

“Kind of. We’re still figuring things out.”

“With all of them?” His eyes probe me like he’s trying to read my mind.

“I guess,” I say vaguely. “See you around.”

I walk back to Reid, waiting beside a tree near the library. His forehead is puckered as if he’s worried.

“So?” he asks as I approach. “You ready to take him back?”

I hug my books with my left arm and take his hand with my right. “After the way he treated me?” I snort. “No, thanks. You did that to torment him.”

His forehead smooths, and he squeezes my hand. “The guy fucked up so epically, he lost you. I would not make that kind of mistake.”

I stop and look at him. “But this isn’t…”

His expression is impossible to read. “Isn’t what?”

“Real.” And I keep forgetting that important aspect of this relationship.

“Isn’t it? Because it feels pretty real to me.”

I’m still absorbing his soft admission when he smiles and tugs me along. “Come on, I have a strict teacher who is determined I work on this paper.”

“And you can’t distract me again like you did before.”

His eyes are innocent. “How did I distract you?”

As if he doesn’t know why I fell off the bed like a moron.

Since there is no way on Earth I’m talking about pussy worship in public, I shake my head. “You know.”

“Give those here.” He takes my books and glances down, then starts laughing.

“What?”

He shows me the cover of a book I picked up, and I blush all over again.

Human Biology.

Chapter 28

Tobie

“You had a delivery,” Max calls down the hallway as I unlock my door, back from studying with Reid.

She’s stuck her head out of her room, a few doors down from mine.

I frown at her. “What kind?”

Her secretive smile makes me instantly suspicious.

“The surprising kind.” She closes her door.

Vague much.

She has a spare key to my room. I didn’t have to give her one since if I ever lost mine, I could always go to student services for a spare. I have a spare for hers as well, but we have only ever used the keys when one of us locked ourselves out. This way, neither of us are locked out of our rooms for longer than it would take to walk a few steps down the hallway.

So Max must know exactly what this delivery is to have accepted it for me.

Still confused, I open my door and walk into a flower store. The heady, sweet scent of roses is nearly overpowering, but it’s so beautiful, I can’t help but grin as I take in the vases of red and pink roses on every single surface.

Five minutes later, my cell phone rings.

I fish it out of my pocket and answer it, still absorbing the unreal sight before me. “Yeah?”

“Are you in your room?” It’s Javier.

“I am. And I’m wondering what I did to deserve this.”

He laughs. “Is that a good thing?”

No one has ever done anything like this for me before.

When we started dating in high school, Marc gave me flowers for Valentine’s Day. He was never romantic in the way I’d swoon over when I’d curl up in bed with a book. I thought it was okay, and at the time, it was. But ever since Javier, Reid, and Caleb entered my life, my relationship with Marc has felt hollow, as if something was missing.

“Why would you do this?”

“Because you deserve it. How does it make you feel?”

Loved.

Cared for.

Wanted.

“You didn’t have to do this, Javier. Marc won’t know about this.”

“Yes, we have a deal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel special while you’re mine.”

“Oh.”

That is sweet.

The back of my eyelids burn as I touch a satiny rose petal.

“Once you’ve waded through that flower market…” he says with a smile in his voice, “…you should find a meal I had delivered for you as well. I planned on taking you out, but you sounded busy, and Reid has no food in his room other than granola bars, so I can’t imagine he fed you.”

“Uh, no.” I grimace, biting my lip as guilt rears its head at being so secretive about Reid’s paper, even though I promised I wouldn’t say anything.

I go wading, and sure enough, I find a large white paper takeout bag on my desk.

Lorrimers. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard all about the fancy downtown restaurant.

“I let them know you have Hashimoto’s and to create something that wouldn’t cause a flare. You’ll have to let me know how they do.”

“You did that?” I whisper, the prickling behind my eyes growing more intense.

Opening up about it hadn’t been easy, especially to three guys who were literally strangers I’d agreed to fake date. But I couldn’t keep my thyroid disease a secret when I’ve had flare-ups so bad in the past that I could barely get out of bed.

I have more good days than bad days, but there’s no way I could keep my side of this deal on my bad days, which wouldn’t be fair to them.

“There’s a selection of different salads and dips. Nothing heavily processed. Minimal gluten. They’ve had requests like that before, so this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary when I told them what I wanted.”

He listened so well to the things that could trigger a flare and hurt me.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, clutching my phone a little tighter.

“I wanted to.”

That is insanely sweet. Maybe even sweeter than the thousands of dollars he spent filling my room with flowers.

“Javier?”

“Tobie?”

“Where are you right now?”

“If I said I’m sitting on a bench outside your dorm, hoping I wasn’t about to watch you throw the flowers out of your window because you hate them, would that creep you out?”

“Don’t go anywhere.”

I hang up and leave my room.

He’s outside, sitting on bench, holding his phone, just like he said he was.

He gets to his feet as I walk over to him, and wraps his arms around me when I hug him. “Thank you.”

“I did good?” he asks softly.

“You did great.”

He gives me a gentle squeeze. “Good.”

“How’d you know Max had a key to my room?” I peel my face from his chest and peer up at him, puzzling out what’s different about him because something definitely is.

“Your friend saw all the flowers I helped the delivery guy bring up, said you weren’t back yet, and that she’d let me in.”

“Just like that?”

“She said you deserve all the good you can get.”

Thanks, Max. So do you.

I eye him closely because I know Max. “And is that all she said?”

His lips twitch. “She might have said something about my life coming to a painful end if I hurt you.”

I grimace. The only one she hasn’t threatened yet is Reid, and knowing Max, that threat is coming, or it’s already happened, and I just don’t know it yet. “Sorry.”

He shrugs. “She meant well. I wasn’t offended.”

I study him some more.

“What?” he asks, smiling down at me.

“Are you okay?”

His smile freezes. “Why would something be wrong?”

I blush and try not to meet his gaze. “Back in the library, you, uh, had a call, and you left. You said something about your sister. Is she okay? Is that what’s wrong?”

He stares at me for the longest time, and then he pulls me against his chest.

“Javier?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day, but thanks for noticing. Nessa is fine.”

I hug him back. “Do you want to come and share the food with me? You ordered way too much, but I will still try to eat all of it.”

“I’d like that.”

As we walk back to my dorm, I tell him, “Caleb took me to the park.”

“He did?”

“Yep. He had his ass whooped by a bunch of kids, and I think he liked it. I’ll tell you all about it if you want.”

He looks briefly surprised, then one corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile. “You know what, I think I’d like to hear all about this ass whooping. You have any photo evidence?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t think to take a picture.”

“That’s okay. I have a vivid imagination.”

Neither of us lasts long in a room packed with flowers. Between sneezes and laughter, we soon gather up the lunch and take it to eat on the bench outside.

When I recommend taking some of the roses to the local hospital so the patients there can enjoy them before the flowers die, he’s not offended. I thought he would be given he spent so much money on them for me.

But he looks pleased and happy at my suggestion. “Yes. Gatinha. Let’s.”

And for what feels like the millionth time since we started this fake relationship, I remind myself that this isn’t real.

So why does almost every moment I spend with these three hockey players feel so real?

“There’s a fair tonight,” Javier says as I’m finishing up the most incredible couscous, mint, fresh pomegranate, and grilled halloumi salad I’ve ever tasted in my life.

“Is there?”

He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Since I couldn’t take you out for the meal I planned, how about I take you to the fair tonight?”

“Me!” I squeak. I’ve loved going to the fair ever since my parents would take me to the big county fair when I was younger. It was always a ton of fun, a long day filled with laughter, too much cotton candy, and fairground rides I would want to ride five times in a row. “Is Marc going to be there?”

It must be in my head because he looks briefly disappointed by my question. “Do you want him to be there?”

I open my mouth to tell him yes. That tonight at the fair, where Javier wins me a big teddy bear, and I cart it around with his arm around my shoulder, would be the perfect opportunity to flaunt our happy pretend relationship in his face.

But I think of how much fun we had eating five-star food from containers on the floor in the one tiny corner of my room, not taken up by flowers, until the pollen chased us to the bench outside.

Three hours passed in the blink of an eye, and I learned so much about him and his sister and the dream he wants but is afraid will cost him his family.

“No,” I admit quietly. “I’d prefer if he wasn’t there.”

His smile is as soft as the kiss he presses on my forehead. “Let’s deal with these flowers, and I’ll leave you to get ready for tonight. I’ll pick you up.”

Chapter 29

Javier

“Do you still have the vibrating egg I gave you?” I ask Tobie when I pick her up from her room to take her to the fair.

She blinks. “Yeah. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

She hesitates a second, and I can’t help but notice the slight disappointment she tries to hide. “You want it back?” Before I can respond, she’s turning around. “That’s probably for the best. There was a thing with Caleb and…”

I know all about that thing with Caleb. He seems determined to pretend he’s not into Tobie. Or. Maybe not. I can’t remember laughing so hard when Tobie told me about Caleb being taken down by a group of kids. And I wanted to kiss Tobie because none of us have seen Caleb’s playful side in years.

She moves to return it, but I shake my head. “I don’t want it back. At least, not in the way you think.”

She studies me. “Then in what way?”

I raise an eyebrow.

She blushes. “Oh, you want me to wear it? Tonight? In public?”

“If you want.”

“And the remote. Where will that be?”

Again, I raise my eyebrow, and again, she blushes.

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “Reid and I slept together.”

If it were anyone else, I’d be jealous. Because it’s Reid, I know he would have made her feel good. I cock my head, curious what this is about.

She says nothing for so long that I think I know where this is going. “You want me to back off because⁠—”

“No,” she says in a rush.

Her cheeks are still pink, and her eyes don’t quite meet mine. “I mean, I’m dating all of you, right?”

Tension radiates up my spine. “And what does dating look like to you?”

She swallows hard. “I don’t know. This is…” Her voice trails off. “This was all supposed to be pretend, and…”

It’s not pretend.

It’s become the most real thing in my life.

I know exactly how you feel, Tobie Myers.

This can’t be easy for her. Fresh from a breakup with a guy she was probably anticipating marriage and kids with, to fake dating three guys. None of us could have predicted this.

“Do you want to take a rain check on this fair?” If she’s developing feelings for Reid, and I’m confusing her, that isn’t right. I want her, and I like her, but her needs have to come first.

She hands me the remote. “Here.”

I wait for her to pass me the egg.

Her fingers tighten around it, and she takes a step back. “You have to wait outside for me.”

She’s not saying what I think she’s saying. I’m misreading this situation by hoping for something that will not happen. “Why?”

She clears her throat. “I can’t put it in while you’re here.”

I steady my breathing as my pants get tight. “You trust me with this?”

“Marc made me feel like an old slipper.”

I blink at another twist in our conversation I didn’t see coming.

She continues, “Even before the cheating, I was an afterthought. I bumped into a girl on my floor once, and she didn’t even know I had a boyfriend. That’s how little he came to see me. I was always going to him. You make me feel so many things that I don’t deserve. I trust you with the remote, and I trust you with me.”

My chest is tight and rage simmers in my veins. I’m torn between two violently opposing actions—find Marc and rip him apart or yank Tobie into my arms and kiss her.

Trust is one of the most valuable things you can give a person. If I kill her ex for making her feel unworthy, I can’t take her to the fair. If I kiss her, I won’t stop.

“You’re not an old slipper, Gatinha,” I tell her softly.

She deserves someone who will treat her like she’s the center of their world. Marc was the one lucky to have her, and he did not deserve someone as sweet and beautiful as Tobie. Not for a single day.

Her smile is soft. “I think I know that now.”

But she didn’t know it before.

“We’re going to have fun tonight,” I tell her firmly.

Even if it kills me.

“I know.” Her response comes instantly.

Trust. She trusts me to look after her. “I’ll wait outside.”

I walk to the door and stop. “Thank you, Tobie Myers.”

“What for?” Confusion clouds her voice.

“Not trying to change me. For accepting me the way I am. For seeing more than the loaded guy with the sexy accent.” I twist to face her. “You are the one who makes me feel things no one has before.”

She walks over to me, and her hug is everything I never knew I needed. “Thanks for seeing more than just plain Tobie. Even when I’m a scruffpants.”

I shake with laughter. “Scruffpants?”

“I get it from my dad. Don’t judge. I was born to it.”

I cradle the back of her soft hair and extend the hug for just a little longer, then I kiss her forehead. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

For the first hour we’re at the fair, Tobie glances at me, waiting for me to slip my hand into my pocket and press a button for the vibrating egg.

I don’t.

I will, but not now.

Tonight is more about making her laugh than about making her come.

We wander the game booths, not playing any yet, but just looking. I guide Tobie through the crowds toward any ride she shows an interest in.

Tobie is smiling as she watches the carousel whipping people around when I slip my hand into my pocket, feel the buttons on the remote, and press down.

Her breath catches, and she sways slightly, leaning against me.

I wrap my left arm around her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “Too much?”

She takes a breath and shakes her head. “Not the last one. That was intense.”

I kiss her forehead. “We’re here to have fun, not push you too far.”

Between rides, popcorn, and cotton candy, I soak up her smiles, her laughter, and the soft, breathy moans she makes as I alternate pressing buttons on the remote that controls the vibrating egg inside her.

As the evening goes on, her cheeks are more flushed.

Guys are looking at her more than she realizes, not only because she’s beautiful in a green floral dress with spaghetti straps, or even because she’s wearing red lipstick that makes her lips look full and plump.

She looks happy and confident in her body.

The fair was supposed to be fun for Tobie, but when we pass a partially open door that leads to a dimly lit, half-filled storage room, I urge her inside, casually checking no one saw us walk in before I close the door.

“Javier?” She turns to me with a frown.

I wrap my arms around her and claim her lips.

She melts against me.

And as I kiss her, I thumb another button.

She moans into my mouth, rubbing her body against me.

I slip my hand up under her skirt. The second my fingers glide along her soaked panties, I lose my mind.

“Have you been this wet all night?” I groan, pinning her to the wall.

She nods.

“For me?” I whisper, breathing hard as my cock hardens.

“For you,” she whispers back.

I can’t wait to get her home.

Not now.

Turning her, I press her cheek to the wall and whisper against her neck. “We have two options.”

I strum her clit, and she whimpers. “Yeah?”

“I pull this egg out, and I fuck you hard and fast against this wall.”

Her heart spikes. “Or?”

I lower my whisper, curious how far she will want to go.

“I leave the egg where it is, and I fuck your ass nice and slow while I keep my finger on the remote-control.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “What?”

I dip my fingers under the bands of her panties. She’s wet. I can’t believe she’s been walking by my side like this.

“Uh…” She moans.

My fingers find the cord for the egg, and I prepare to pull it out. It’s slick. Too slick. I shut my eyes as I envision her coating her fingers and the egg with lube and moaning as she slipped it inside her.

And I was standing on the other side of her bedroom door, inches away, as she did.

Fuck. What I wouldn’t have given to be on my knees in front of her, watching her.

“My ass,” she whispers.

I stop breathing.

I was not expecting that.

My cock is throbbing, and I know for a fact this is not going to last half as long as I want or need it to.

I give the closed door another check to confirm we’re alone and kiss the back of her throat as I unzip myself, push her panties down her legs, and stuff them in my pocket. She sighs as I gather lube from between her thighs, coating the tip of my finger and slowly but carefully ease the tip between her ass cheeks.

She makes a choked sound, which turns into a whimper as I press the button, and the egg vibrates inside her.

With each inch I push inward, she pushes back on me, soft sounds of pleasure filling the room.

“More,” she whispers, leaning her head back on my shoulder with her eyes closed.

I give her two fingers, stretching her, preparing her for my cock.

I alternate each stretch with a press of the button, ordering myself to go slow and not slam into her like I need to.

She’s shaking against me, palms flat on the wall in front of her, whimpering and pushing back on me.

Close.

She is going to come soon. And goddamn, I’m not even inside her yet, but so am I with the way she’s rubbing her ass on me.

I pull my fingers from her, and my hands shake as I fumble to pull a condom from my wallet and struggle to get it on. I gather more lube from between her thighs to stroke my cock from the base to the tip, getting it nice and slick.

She holds her breath as I grasp her hips.

The tip of my cock touches her opening, and she shivers in response.

“Tobie?” I pause. “Tell me you still want this, or we’ll stop.”

Because once I’m inside you, I don’t think I can.

“I want this,” she whispers. “I want you like this.”

Holding her steady, teeth gritted, I slowly push in. She’s almost too tight for me with the egg inside her.

She freezes.

“Breathe,” I whisper raggedly against her throat. “Let me in, Gatinha.”

I wait, giving her time. When she takes a breath, I slide in another inch.

“Do you feel how tight you’re stretched around me?” I whisper in her ear. “Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?”

Her eyes flutter open, aroused green-brown gaze meeting mine.

“Are you ready for more?” I ask.

“Give it to me, Javier.”

Fuck. My cock jerks in response and her breath catches. With me wedged inside her, she felt it. How could she not?

Sweat pops out on my brow as I fight to keep from slamming myself home. She’s not ready for that yet, but I can hardly wait.

Someone passes close to the door, laughing. Tobie’s breath kicks up, her heart racing, and, excitingly, her body clenches around me.

The fear of discovery gets her off.

As I pump against her ass, her moans deepen as she takes a little more of me.

I pull the remote from my pocket, keeping a tight hold on it as I grasp Tobie’s waist. And I groan as I feel the vibration through the thin skin between her pussy and her ass.

She’s jerking back onto me as if I’m not moving hard or fast enough for her.

My balls are tight, and I’m struggling to hold back my release when I’m not even halfway in her. I can’t hold back anymore.

My fingers tighten on her hip as I groan. “I’m sorry, Tobie. I can’t…”

I draw my hips back, gritting my teeth as her body fights to keep me locked to her. And I drive deep until I’m balls deep inside her.

Fuck.

She whimpers and squirms, her ass clenching on me, tossing her hair as she clamps so tight around me, I curse and nearly climax on the spot.

“Tobie,” I breathe out. “Tobie. Fuck.”

I keep my finger on the button as I work myself into her ass with long, deep strokes, bottoming out each time.

Her moans rise in volume, competing with the music and laughter just outside.

We slap together, driving each other closer to the edge. I let her set the pace until she suddenly freezes, breathing hard. She clamps so tight on me that I drop the remote and grab her, holding her tight when she slumps against the wall.

She pushes me over the edge and I sag against her with a groan, holding her so close that nothing in me wants to let this woman go.

“Shit, that was not how things were going to go.” I take a long moment to recover after I’ve stopped the vibrating egg, and I’m no longer using the wall to prop us both up. “Are you okay?”

She yawns. “Tired. I can’t believe we did that here.”

I drop a kiss on the side of her neck and she shivers in response. “You want me to carry you out of here? I’ll take you home.”

“Can we stay a little longer?” She twists her head around to look at me. “I wanted to go on the big wheel. I’ve never been on one before.”

She looks exhausted, her eyes half lidded and sexy. Her plush lips are so tempting I can’t stop myself from kissing her again. With Tobie, it’s too much, or it’s never enough.

“Anything you want is yours, Gatinha. I’d buy you the wheel and put it on the quad outside your room if you wanted.”

She grins at me. “I think the dean might have something to say about that.”

“Probably,” I concede. “And I haven’t won you a bear the size of a car yet.”

She laughs. “The size of a car?”

No, not the size of a car, but there’s something special about this woman’s smile.

I carefully pull out of her, remove the egg from her, and dispose of my condom, using a napkin to clean us.

I take her hand and lead her to the big wheel, slipping the operator a few extra bills and a request for a couple of minutes to appreciate the stars at the top.

He gives us five minutes.

It’s against the rules, but I cradle Tobie in my arms, her head against my shoulder, as we stare up at the stars.

“Thanks for tonight, Javier,” she says quietly. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

“You deserve more, Gatinha,” I tell her just as quietly.

And I intend to give it to you.

Chapter 30

Tobie

“I can hear you grinding your teeth,” Max says with a grin from the passenger seat.

Like an idiot, I thought the mall was busy on the weekend, but people out on a mild Sunday mid-morning are determined to clog up the road by driving five miles per hour.

When Javier kissed me goodnight, one kiss turned into him spending the night in my bed. He left this morning after a soft kiss I didn’t want to end and a promise to see me later.

I asked him where. He smiled and just said later. After he left, I lost count of how long I spent grinning like an idiot at the teddy bear he won me at the fair.

This traffic has killed off my happy morning in an emphatic fashion. I am now battling road rage.

Finally. I release a sigh of relief when the lights change, and I turn off the main road. “I just don’t want to be late.”

“They won’t care if you’re late.”

I pull up at a moderately full parking lot and unsnap my seat belt. “But I will. Come on. Let’s go.”

I assumed the cars belonged to the parents of the kids playing in the street hockey game, but most of the stands surrounding the enclosed asphalt hockey rink are empty. The rec is fairly busy, and I take in people playing tennis and badminton in the outdoor courts that Max and I hurry past. Other families sit in the grass with their picnics.

We soon reach the outdoor hockey rink. The front rows are half-full, the jerseys reflect a fairly even split of parents from both teams.

As I sit in one of the front-row seats, the kids Caleb and I played street hockey with grin and wave. I smile and wave back, the traffic on the road suddenly worth it.

“I still can’t believe you played street hockey.” Max nudges my shoulder.

“It was fun.”

She places a palm on my forehead, and I bat it aside with a glare, ignoring her grin. “I’m not coming down with something. It was actually fun. Anyway, they said they were playing a big game and invited me to come,” I explain.

I’d expected to come on my own, but Max had stopped by my room and asked if I wanted to hang out.

Her idea of hanging out was maybe going for a coffee or a drive. I’m not sure she believed this was where we were going until I pulled up in the parking lot.

“I thought you didn’t like hockey,” Max says.

“I don’t,” I say, looking at the parking lot for the third time since I sat down.

“Who are you looking for?”

I shake my head. “No one.”

It was wishful thinking to hope Caleb would come. He knew about the game, and I get that hockey is important to him, but I thought he would turn up, even if it were for just a few minutes to support the kids. But maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. His maybe had the hallmarks of an ‘absolutely not’ when the kids’ coach had invited us to come.

I suddenly remember something and scramble to my feet. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone take my seat.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Sure. I’ll just tell the tumbleweed blowing past to form an orderly queue.”

I hurry back to my car, unlock the trunk, and grab the poster I spent this morning working on.

When I return to my seat, I pull off the elastic I used to hold it closed and unroll the large poster.

“What’s that?” Max leans over to see.

“Just something to support the kids.”

She squints at it. “Is that an angry cloud?”

“It’s a storm.” I didn’t know the first thing about drawing a storm, so I drew a cloud, shading it in dark gray colors. When it didn’t look angry enough, I gave it black, beady eyes and a glowering face. “Because the Lamont Hurricanes will be whipping up a storm of victory.”

She laughs. “Right.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, embarrassed. “I tried my best, and we’re here to cheer them to victory. You can’t do that without a sign.”

Max shakes her head, still smiling. “Give me the other side of that. Do you even understand the rules?”

“Just score more goals than the other team. That’s all.” And before Max can ask me about any other rule, of which I know none, I wave my homemade banner and cheer.

Their coach looks briefly startled, then pleased.

The kids gape, surprised, then grin at me.

Max, for all her mockery of my angry cloud, cheers as loudly as I do.

The kids are down a couple of points against their rivals by the end of the first period.

The coach has them huddled together in a circle when the sound of a powerful engine distracts me.

“What’s that?” I glance toward the parking lot.

The rec is on a side street of downtown. The traffic noises have been distant and quiet.

Until now.

Now, there’s a rumble of an enormous engine, and it’s getting louder.

I’m still looking at the parking lot when a massive bus in dark blue, silver, and white pulls up. “What is that?”

“Fuck,” Max curses.

I glance at her. “What did you say?”

A loud whoosh pulls my gaze back to the parking lot, and I’m not the only one distracted.

My mouth gapes open when Caleb steps from the front of the bus, followed by a seemingly endless line of hockey players.

They’re all wearing their hockey jerseys but otherwise casual in jeans, sneakers, and boots.

Even Doc is there, and I smile when he nods at me. I recognize a couple of girls from practice, including Hallie, who I look away from when she glances my way.

No one is interested in watching the game anymore.

I finally notice something I don’t know how I missed before. The logo of a gray snarling wolf—or wolverine, I guess—and the team’s name running along the side of the bus.

“What are they doing here?” I mutter.

I’d hoped Caleb might show up, but for the whole team, including their coaches, it was far and beyond anything I’d expected.

“Keys,” Max says.

I frown at her. “What?”

“Car keys.” She’s on her feet, dropping the side of my poster and sticking her hand out.

Confused, I pull the keys from my pocket and hand them to her. “Why?”

“You have a ride back to campus, right?” Before I can stop her, she’s off, shouting, “I’ll leave your keys in your room.”

“But—”

She ducks around the back of the seats, disappearing from view.

“How much did we miss?”

I jump and twist around at Caleb’s voice drifting over my right shoulder. For such a big guy, he’s surprisingly quiet.

He stands right beside me. Close. Probably closer than he needs to but I’m not about to tell him that. “Uh, just the first period.”

“Just the first,” he tells the others, dropping into what was Max’s seat while Reid grins at me and takes the space on my right.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, grinning at Javier when he nudges Reid forward a couple of inches to smile at me.

“Gatinha.”

“Did you know about this?” I ask Javier.

His lips quirk. “I might have. It was Caleb’s idea to surprise the kids… and you.”

“I didn’t think he was interested in coming here,” I tell Javier, lowering my voice.

“Doesn’t look that way to me,” he responds, just as quietly.

I follow his gaze to Caleb and silently agree.

Caleb cups his palms around his mouth and yells. “Let’s do this, Hurricanes!”

The kids freeze, eyes wide. I’m not sure if they’re going to die of excitement or have a heart attack to go from a handful of parents watching them play to having the whole of the soon-to-be championship college team shouting them to victory.

“That your sign?” Reid points at the half-rolled poster in my lap.

I nod.

“Want me to grab the other side?” he offers.

I nod. “Only if you promise not to laugh at my angry cloud.”

“Angry cloud?” he echoes.

I unroll the poster.

“Whipping up a storm of victory, huh?” A dimple forms on his cheek.

I point at him. “Don’t.”

He grins at me. “Give it here. It’s great. The kids will think so too.”

“Sorry we’re late,” Javier says, leaning around Reid. “Brave was sucked into a black hole again. Made us all late, as usual.”

“Fuck you, Casanova,” a guy yells out.

“Shut it,” another guy shouts out. “There are kids around.”

Another player scoffs. “You hear the shit kids are saying these days? An F-bomb is nothing to them.”

As they argue, I turn to Caleb. “Thanks.”

He peers down at me. “For?”

I gesture to his teammates. “Bringing the rest of the team. Win or lose, those kids will never forget today.”

He slowly nods. “I couldn’t help but notice the way your friend took off like a bat out of hell the second she saw us.”

I look at the parking lot. My small silver Toyota Camry is no longer where I parked it. I don’t care about Max taking off like that, but I do worry about her. “I’m suddenly realizing that I don’t know Max as well as I thought I did.”

She has history with the hockey team. Serious history. There’s no way she’d have taken off the way she did if she didn’t.

I jump when Caleb’s shoulder bumps mine.

“So, you don’t mind hockey now?” he quietly asks me.

I think carefully about my answer.

“I don’t mind it. I mean, unless someone hits me with a puck, then I think I really would hate it.”

One corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile. His arm is still flush against mine, and he’s not showing any sign of moving away. That’s okay. Better than okay.

“Why did you come?” I ask him.

“It was important,” he says. “For the kids. To you. And to me. I didn’t realize how important until I told myself it didn’t matter. These kids deserve to have people cheer them to victory. I wanted it to be me. ”

“That’s sweet,” I can’t help but smile.

“Shh,” he whispers, giving his teammates a furtive glance. “Someone might hear you.”

I grin at him.

When I feel something brush against the back of my hand, I look down and then up again, meeting Caleb’s unreadable gaze.

Slowly, I twist my wrist so I have my palm facing up, and I release a quiet sigh when Caleb takes my hand in his larger one and gently squeezes it.

One simple action feels like he’s brushed up against my heart. Softening it.

There is no reason in the world for him to want to hold my hand. Not where no one else can see it. Our relationship is fake.

Or, it’s supposed to be

He gives me a probing look and his grip loosens, as if he reads the confusion clouding my mind. “You want me to⁠—”

“No,” I quietly interrupt him, squeezing his hand, struggling to identify the reason I don’t want him to let me go. “Don’t.”

His expression softens. “Then I won’t.”

The referee blows his whistle to commence the start of the second period, and all our attention swings back to the game.

We spend the next thirty minutes cheering the Hurricanes to victory, and after the game, the kids beeline to the players.

I hang back, watching as the coach who screamed at Reid when he kissed me for the kiss cam claps Caleb on the back. “Good to see you focusing on the joy of the game, Boucher. You’re setting a good example for the team about what’s important.”

“Yeah, well, I had someone else to thank for that,” Caleb says, looking at me.

The coach’s gaze is inscrutable as he glances at me. “Keep it up.”

“Tobie?”

I turn to face Trey, the kids’ coach. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to say thank you.” He couldn’t look any happier if he’d tried. “You’ve given these kids a core memory.”

I blush, shaking my head. “I’m not sure about that. I mean, I didn’t really do anything.”

He points his chin at the rolled-up sign in my hand. “You came, you threw your support behind them, and you gave the kids a reason to smile. Also, they love your slogan.”

Now I’m the one beaming. “They do?”

“Whipping up a storm of victory? How could they not?”

“Coach?” Caleb calls out as he walks over to join us.

“Yes?”

“I was speaking to my coach,” Caleb says. “I don’t know if you heard, but we have a big game coming up.”

“I heard,” the coach says with a smile. “You’re about to do something historic. Everyone in town is excited about it.”

Caleb shrugs like it’s nothing, but it is something—a massive deal. “Well, we can set aside ten or more tickets if you and the victors over there want to come watch us play. We can sort out some jerseys as well for them.”

I laugh when the coach nearly knocks Caleb over with his hug. “Yes! The kids would love that.”

Caleb seems the type who would punch someone who tried to hug him. I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile when he awkwardly pat the coach’s back as the kids go crazy with the news.

As our eyes connect, he smiles, and I smile back.

Chapter 31

Tobie

I’m getting ready to go to bed when a knock sounds on my door.

Today was exhausting. After we cheered the kids to victory, I climbed into the Wolverines’ bus, and we stopped at a BBQ restaurant for a late lunch. It was jampacked with it being a weekend, but the restaurant had a back room that the Wolverines’ coach talked the owner into letting us rent.

It was loud and messy. There were long tables of laughing, chatting, arguing, hockey players stopping long enough to devour the delicious brisket, ribs, chicken, and steak with macaroni and cheese and cornbread sides.

Not everyone drank, but there were plenty of pitchers of beer to go around for those who wanted it and sodas for those who didn’t.

I sat with Reid, Caleb, and Javier, and at no point did I feel like I didn’t belong.

When I returned to my dorm, Max had left my car keys on my desk, and she was nowhere to be found, so I couldn’t ask her why she pulled a disappearing act back at the rec.

I swing open my door, and Reid’s gaze sweeps over me.

He smiles. “Ah, good. I timed it right.”

I frown. “Timed what right?”

He pulls his cell phone from his pocket and taps a few buttons. I study him, bemused, until he turns the screen to show me a timer.

Set for one hour.

The last time he said something about one hour was…

No.

My mouth goes dry. And that’s before I see the heat in his eyes.

“Pussy—”

I clap my hand over his mouth and peer down the empty hallway, whispering, “Quit saying that so loud. Someone might hear you.”

If the girls on my floor knew what he came to do, they’d shove me out of the nearest window and take my place.

His eyes sparkle with amusement as he wraps one arm around my waist, carries me into my room, and closes the door. He peels my hand from his mouth and kisses me. “You look beautiful.”

I flush with pleasure. “No, I don’t.”

“You do,” he says, smiling slightly. “All soft and sweet. Getting ready to go to bed?”

I nod.

Reid dips his head, still smiling. “And instead, I come along to—” He laughs and catches my hand before I can cover his mouth again. He kisses the inside of my wrist, which makes my breath catch.

His next kiss is longer, deeper, and sweeter.

I’m not the only one breathing hard when we break apart.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day. Tripped over my own feet thinking about it. Coach benched me.”

“No, he didn’t because you didn’t have practice. You want me to feel sorry for you, so I’ll kiss you again.”

He leans in. “And do you? ’Cause I have a feeling another kiss from you will solve all my problems.”

I laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I lied. It’s not the kiss. It’s your laugh.”

“You’re just saying that,” I mutter, still blushing.

He puts his phone down and tickles me until I’m nearly crying with laughter.

“You were saying?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“Okay, so maybe you weren’t just saying it,” I admit.

Still smiling, he winks at me, “Now. Where were we?”

I thought this pussy-worship talk was all a joke. Just something he said to distract me from working on his paper.

I gulp when he grips the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it aside.

As always, his muscled chest briefly kills my ability to think.

I eye him curiously when he picks up his phone from my desk, where he placed it moments before. “What are you doing?”

He has his head down, busy tapping away. “Resetting the timer ’cause we’ve been talking. I promised an hour. I intend to deliver.”

Finished with his task, he sets his phone down and refocuses on me.

“An hour of…”

He goes to his knees in front of me and peers up at me. “Worship.”

Shit. He’s really serious about this.

Someone knocks on my door as he’s pushing the hem of my nightshirt up.

Max shouts, “Tobie? Do you want⁠—”

“I’m busy!” I yell too loud and desperately because Reid grins at me as I stun Max into a two-second silence.

“Oh, okay. See you tomorrow.” Her footsteps move away from my door.

I barely hear her. Reid is kissing a path up my inner right leg as he continues to push my nightdress up to my thighs. “You ready, beautiful?”

He whispers the words against my panties, hot breath making my pussy tingle with anticipation.

I’m not sure I am.

He’s bunched my nightdress beside my hip while his other hand delivers a firm massage to my ass.

“Beautiful?” Flint-gray eyes hook mine. “Anything that happens, I need to know you want it.”

My belly is tight, and it’s hard to focus when I have one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen on his knees in front of me.

I nod.

His hand strokes up, fingers cupping my breast and stroking my nipple.

My breast swells from his attention. I grip his wrist, holding on as he moves from my left breast to my right. All the while, he’s blowing warm air over me, nibbling my inner thigh, and delivering tiny pleasure-inducing licks of his tongue through the thin lace of my panties.

I’m slowly going mad with anticipation.

There’s no point to my panties by the time he’s hooking the edge and sliding them down my legs. They’re soaked. Utterly. My knees are shaking, and I’m holding on to Reid to keep myself on my feet.

I stare down at him, trying to control my breathing as he pushes my thighs apart.

“Your dress.” His lips hover over my clit.

I struggle to maintain my reason. “What about it?”

“Off.”

His eyes flick up to me. “I need to see every inch of your beautiful body.”

I grip the edge of my cotton nightdress and pull upward. I’d have hesitated before. It’s hard not to feel beautiful with the way Reid stares at me.

His breath is in his throat as he watches me ease the material up over my hips and over my rounded belly. He doesn’t seem to notice or even care that it’s not flat. His eyes burn.

I’m positive he’s not breathing as I expose my breasts to him. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, hungry eyes on my nipples.

And when I toss the dress to the floor, I have one perfect second of him running his eyes over me, like every single dream of his has just come to life. “Beautiful.”

His fingers grasp my hips. He draws me close, and his mouth touches me.

I suck in a breath, holding it.

His tongue circles my clit, lightly grazing, making me lean toward him. One light suck and I nearly topple over.

He catches me. “Careful.”

And then he’s back again, tongue on my clit, warm breath stirring me to life as he makes hungry noises in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Do you know how good you taste?”

He groans, lapping faster as if he can’t get enough.

Just when I’m about to go crazy, he slides his tongue through my folds, and I feel the thick tip of his thumb start up a pattern, almost but not quite penetrating. I push down impatiently.

He finally slides his thumb into me, and I hiss and moan, gripping his shoulders, nails digging into hot, muscled skin. I strangle a moan as he spreads my swollen lips, and his tongue sweeps in. “Oh God, Reid. Oh my God.”

Tongue or thumb. Which is going to make me come?

I’m struggling to hold my release back, panting as he thrusts his thumb into me, then he suddenly rises a little, pulls his thumb from inside me, and slips his finger in instead.

I’m moaning as he pumps. Two fingers stretch me. When I can’t take it anymore, he curls his fingers inside me, and I shatter.

Not a minute passes before he’s kissing me again, his fingers brushing my clit.

When he starts to fuck me with his tongue, I sway and topple.

He grasps my hips, kisses my inner thigh, and breathes against my skin. “Uh-oh. Can’t have you hurting yourself.”

I’m beyond words when he surges to his feet. I’m in his arms a second later, then I’m flat on my back in my bed a second after that.

He settles between my thighs, drapes my legs over his shoulders, and his tongue finds me again.

“Reid…” I pant, fidgeting, hands in his hair, hips lifting with no conscious thought in time to his tongue sliding into me. “This is insane. You have… I can’t…”

His thumb teases my clit, circles it, and very lightly brushes against it.

I grind my sex in his face. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to.

My orgasm slams into me. I writhe and pant as it keeps going, an endless wave of pleasure. Reid holds me, kissing me lightly and stroking my hips. He eases me down so he can bring me back up again.

I don’t know how long he’s been doing this, but I think I’m ready to die.

He’s kissing my hip when I tug at his hair. “Reid?”

“I’ve barely started,” he says with a smile as he presses the lightest, sweetest kiss on my pulsing clit.

My stomach clenches. “I want to touch you.”

“This is about making you feel good.” His next kiss lands next to my pussy, and it flutters in response.

“Five minutes.”

He lifts his head to look at me, hair wild, eyes creased with amusement. “What?”

“Five minutes. I need a break, or my head will explode. I want to touch you.”

His smile fades. “For five minutes?”

I nod.

He reaches over to grab his phone off my desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Setting a timer so you don’t distract me from what I came here for,” he says with a cheeky smile.

“You have to lie back,” I tell him, getting to my knees and crawling toward him.

All signs of amusement are fading as I stroke my hands over his chest and lean in close to kiss his neck. This man tastes as good as he smells, and I never want to take my hands off him.

He groans, and his head tips back as I feel his fingers graze the ends of my hair. “Didn’t say anything about kisses, beautiful.”

“Does that mean you want me to stop?” I brush my fingers over his pants, cupping and smiling when he groans in response.

“Not exactly.”

A smile splits his face when I push him onto his back and tug off his sweatpants, tossing his shoes and pants to the floor.

That smile dies when I angle my kisses downward. “Tobie?”

Stopping an inch from the bulge in his boxers, I flick my gaze up to him. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shudders as I speak. Is he feeling the warm air I’m blowing over him?

His hand is in my hair, holding me there.

Slowly, he draws me toward him.

And just as slowly, I peel his briefs from his body.

He’s beautiful. Thick. Long. I need to know how he tastes.

I lick the tip.

His hand fists in my hair, and he hisses a breath. “Shit.”

I circle the rim, scoot down a little more, and part my lips, forming a tight seal. And I suck.

“Fuck.”

I’ve stopped caring about the time as I lick and suck. Reid must have, too, as he groans with each suction, both hands gripping my hair.

The vibrating phone scares the shit out of me, and I yank my head up, my heart racing.

Reid is breathing hard as he reaches over to switch off the alarm. “Fuck this.”

“What?” Did I do this wrong?

“On your side, beautiful,” he says.

I blink at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s something I want to try. You game?”

There’s another question in his eyes.

“I trust you.”

His eyes fill with warmth before he claims a kiss so hot he distracts me from what he planned.

Until he gently turns me so I’m lying with my legs near his head and his cock is inches from my mouth. We’re both on our sides, and I still don’t know why. Craving the taste of him, I part my lips and he groans as I suck.

He pushes my legs toward my belly and presses my thighs open as he draws my body closer to his. Then he wraps his arms around my waist, and I forget to suck and nearly choke when his tongue laps between my thighs.

“Oh God,” I whimper.

“Good?” He’s smiling as he licks me again.

As he licks, I circle the base of his cock with my hand, take a breath, and swallow.

He curses, his hips jerking.

We drive each other to the edge with his cock in my throat and his tongue in my pussy. We make each other come with lips, tongues, and the edge of our teeth.

Time doesn’t matter.

And when he grunts as he comes with my name on his lips, I want to give him more, to push him over the edge again and again. This feeling is addictive, and I need to please him.

Minutes, hours, or days later, Reid eases me onto my back and claims my lips in a searing kiss. I feel him hardening against my belly, and his eyes are fierce as he peers down at me. “Do you know what you’ve done to me, beautiful?”

I shake my head as his hands, trembling as if he can’t wait a second longer, fight with the condom he grabs from his wallet on my bedside table. “You’ve ruined me.”

His lips crash onto mine, his arms nudging my thighs open, and his cock…

A moan pours from my throat as he pushes the thick tip of his cock inside me. In an inch, then out. Deeper the next time.

“Just you,” he groans. “No one but you.”

The next thrust seats him deep, to the hilt.

He holds my gaze as he stops moving.

His next kiss is gentle. Sweet. “Just you.”

My fingers stroke his jaw. His stubbled chin. His lower lip. This time, I claim his lips. I taste myself on him as he sweeps his tongue into my mouth.

We surge together.

His hands are everywhere, cupping my breasts, grasping my hips, and then tilting me as he picks up the pace.

“Your legs,” he pants. “Around me.”

I circle his hips with my legs, and this new angle means every thrust fills me so utterly I can’t imagine what my life would be like without him in it.

I’m close. My hips rise to meet each of his thrusts while the headboard bumps against the wall. The sounds of our moans fill the room.

Pleasure bursts within me—sharp, intense, almost painful.

Reid thrusts twice more, slides deeper than I thought he could, then shakes, groaning my name as he holds himself there, tight against me.

Long minutes later, he turns us on our sides, holding me close with his lips against my forehead as he softens within me.

He’s gentle when he pulls away to deal with the condom and cleans between my thighs before gathering me close again.

My eyelids are heavy, and I know we have to pick up the sheets hanging off the bed. Later. I’ll move later. Reid kisses my shoulder and drags the sheets up and around us when I move to get up.

He yawns. “Tobie?”

“Reid?”

“We haven’t talked about tonight.”

I look at his face, strangely hesitant. “What about tonight?”

“This is your room. Your space. Do you want me to⁠—”

I kiss him. “Stay.”

“You sure?”

I crawl onto his chest, rest my head on his shoulder, and close my eyes.

His body vibrates as he chuckles.

He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my hair. “I got the message loud and clear, beautiful. I’m not going anywhere.”

I want to ask if it’s for always, but I don’t want to know the answer. Hoping this fake relationship will last feels like yet another dream I’m too afraid to reach for.

Chapter 32

Tobie

The sky is gray as I pull back my drapes, yawning from yesterday's excitement.

After Reid left my room this morning, I felt it was time to tackle some tasks I’ve been putting off. We didn’t make any plans today, and truth be told, it’s nice to have some time to myself and veg out in my room.

Three fake boyfriends have meant I’m barely in my room these days. I take in the pile of clothes on the floor, the barely made-up bed, and I have a hazy memory of when I last did laundry.

“Time to adult,” I mutter, resigned to cleaning.

By the time I’ve finished doing a couple of loads of laundry, vacuuming, dusting, and catching up with my dad on the phone, the day is over, and I’m done.

After whipping up a quick meal of teriyaki salmon, green beans, and brown rice, I make myself a cup of peppermint tea and crawl under my sheets with a book to snuggle up with.

My phone vibrates across my bedside table, startling me.

I answer it, distracted. “Yeah?”

“It’s me.”

I tear my eyes from the pages of my book. “Caleb?”

“You sound busy.”

My gaze lingers on a spicy scene in my cozy monster romance. “Just reading.”

“Anything interesting?”

I close my book and slide it into my bedside drawer, shutting it firmly to control my blush. “Not really. What’s up?”

“Just wondered what you're up to.” He continues talking before I can. “Jay is arguing with his parents again, and Reid was vague about what he was up to.”

Reid is working on his paper given his vague response. Since he’s sworn me to secrecy, I ask, “What was Javier arguing with his parents about?”

“The same thing they always argue about. Hockey.”

If I ever have a child, I will ask them what makes them happy, and if I want something different for them, I’ll make it clear that what they want matters more. It isn’t always easy telling your parents that your dream clashes with theirs.

“I feel bad for him.”

“Me too.”

Material rustles, a sign he’s getting comfortable in bed. He’s going to bed much earlier than I thought he would. It’s only nine-thirty. “I wish there was something I could do to help, but I can’t make his family accept that he needs hockey. Reid probably could.”

“He could?”

“Reid can talk to anyone. Plunk him down in the middle of a party where he knows no one, and he will leave thirty minutes later, best friends with everyone.”

I smile. “That sounds right. And Javier?”

“Jay went to the best schools in Boston. I think going to private school teaches you that whatever you want, you can achieve. He’s confident about almost everything. Everything except this thing with his family.”

My small town was ordinary, neither poor nor rich. I may not have had everything I wanted, but I had what I needed—a loving family, a warm home, and a safe place to sleep. Not everyone is as lucky.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“People scare me, so I avoid parties. You’re a jock. What’s your excuse?”

“I’ve never been a big drinker, and they take up time I could be doing something else.” His voice is dry when he adds, “After someone threw up on me in my freshman year, parties lost even more of their appeal. Not that there was much to begin with, but cleaning chunks off you does the job and then some.”

Ew.

I wince in sympathy. “That’s gross.”

“It was. I only have to remember how gross it was when Reid calls me grandpa for sitting out yet another party.”

I laugh. “Grandpa?”

There’s a smile in his voice when he says, “He got me slippers for Christmas a couple of years ago. You know the checked style?”

“Yeah.” I volunteered at the retirement home in Lawrenceburg when I was in junior high. I know the exact type he means, having seen the residents shuffle around in them. Picturing Caleb in a pair is making it impossible to keep a straight face.

“He meant it as a joke present, but they’re surprisingly comfortable.”

I laugh again. “Do you still wear them?”

“Only when Reid isn’t around to see me in them. It would be all over campus before the day was over. That would be it. The death of my reputation. I’d never be able to show my face in public ever again.”

I’m still smiling when he falls silent. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable. He’s in his bed and I’m in mine, and while I’ve talked to friends like this before, it feels different with Caleb. More intimate somehow. Knowing he’s across campus in his dorm makes it easier to ask, “Why did you agree to do this, Caleb?”

“Do what?” he asks, but I think he knows what I mean.

I turn onto my side, wiggling to get comfortable. “This fake date thing. You could have said no.”

“Maybe Reid and Jay bullied me into it.”

“Did they?”

He’s silent for a beat. “No. They couldn’t bully me into doing anything I didn’t want to.”

“Like calling me?”

I’m glad he did. But surprised. Here I am having an intimate phone call with the captain of the hockey team before bed. I never saw that in my future.

“I was curious what you get up to when we’re not around, and you don’t seem like a texter.”

“It was the lack of emoji, wasn’t it?”

“The lack of what?”

“When you texted me before. I never know what to say in a text in case whatever I say is taken the wrong way.” So I wind up seeming cold with my one word responses.

“So phone calls are easier?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“I’m an introvert. Knowing what to say has never come easily. Put Reid in the middle of a party, and he’ll make friends with everyone. Put me in the middle of a party and I’ll sneak away to find a bookcase so I can read or make friends with the cat.”

“And if there’s no cat?”

“Then the turtle. Basically, anything that can’t talk back.”

His laugh is rich, deep, and makes my toes curl. I love hearing him laugh, and I’m smiling before I’m conscious of it.

“You talk more on the phone than in real life.” I mentally cringe at the words that just came out of my mouth.

In real life? Why, Tobie? Just why?

“It’s easier. But…”

“But?” I prompt, curious and relieved he’s not laughing at me for saying something so stupid.

“It’s you. Things are easier with you than with… well, with anyone else.”

I hold my breath, suddenly tense. Having this conversation while he’s in his bed and I’m in mine was nice before, but now it’s maybe a little too intimate.

It’s reminding me of the fact that he could be naked, and I think he just admitted he likes me.

But does he? Or am I reading too much into things?

“You still there, Myers?”

“Yes,” I squeak, hoping he can’t feel my tension through the phone.

He clears his throat. “I should go. Let you get back to your book.”

“Sure.” I have no interest in my book. I’m too busy kicking myself for being so awkward that I scared Caleb away.

After saying our goodbyes, I hang up and place my phone on the charger overnight.

I turn off my lamp and try to sleep.

For fifteen minutes, I lie in the dark with my eyes wide open.

I can't get his voice out of my head.

What did he mean when he said things were easier with me than with anyone else?

That I’m friend material or something else?

I close my eyes.

Two seconds later, they pop open again.

“What did you mean?” I whisper in the dark.

Is trampling across campus to ask a question that could lead to humiliation a good idea? Probably not. Will this question torment me all night if I don’t ask it? Absolutely.

I sit up and turn my lamp on.

I’m in my PJs and have no desire to change into jeans, so I pull a hoodie over my head, slip my feet into a pair of sneakers, and grab my keys on my way to the door.

And I jump a foot off the ground when I swing the door open and come face-to-face with someone standing directly outside. It’s a miracle I don’t scream. But mostly, it’s because I’m confused.

“Caleb?” I frown. “What are you doing here?”

It’s so obvious, I don’t know why I’m asking.

He’s here to end the fake date thing. My awkward, introverted ways are too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even wait until tomorrow. Like me, he’s thrown on a hoodie, sneakers, and a pair of black sweatpants as if he got dressed in a hurry. That’s how badly he wanted it over.

“I said something wrong, didn’t I?” he asks, confusing the hell out of me.

I blink up at him. “Huh?”

Great use of your communication skills, Tobie.

Avoiding my gaze, he rakes a hand through his tousled dirty-blond hair. “I said something before and made you uncomfortable.”

I blink again, probably resembling a goldfish in a bowl. I have to stop doing that before it becomes an ingrained habit. “You thought you did something wrong?”

He glances at me, then away, before refocusing on me, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I didn’t?”

I shake my head. “Why would you think that?”

“You went quiet, and I swear I could hear you wishing me to hang up.”

He thought that?

His eyes drift over my shoulder, settling on my unmade bed and hopefully not judging me for it. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to a girl. Hockey is my thing. I could tell you how to use every piece of equipment in the gym. This is…” He waves a hand around. “New. This is new. I couldn’t go to sleep without checking to make sure I hadn’t said something that made you uncomfortable.”

Is this man real?

He looks at me. “You’re smiling.”

Shit. I flatten my lips. “Sorry. Not at you. I thought… well, I thought there was something that probably wasn’t there, and I was coming to see you too, to find out.”

He cocks his head, intrigued. “Find out what?”

Now he’s standing directly in front of me, asking him if he likes me is impossible. “Um, it’s not really important.” It is. Too important to say and risk rejection.

I want him to like me more than just a friend, but when I look at his handsome face and recall the effect he has on women, I figure he won’t. Not a guy like Caleb.

His gaze sharpens on me. “So, you weren’t uncomfortable?”

“No. Talking to you was…” My voice softens as I recall how easy it was, and how much I smiled. “Nice. It was really nice.”

He straightens, looking pleased. “Yeah?”

I nod, conscious I’ve started blushing again.

And we stand there, smiling at each other until it hits me how rude I’m being.

I back up into my room. “Do you want to come in and talk? I mean, I’m not even sure you’d fit on my bed. Your legs are going to hang over the edge, and you’ll have a crick everywhere because you’ll have to fold yourself in half to⁠—”

“I’d like that,” he interrupts, still smiling. “You weren’t really selling it to me, Myers, but it’s you, so…”

My heart skips a beat as a softness enters his gaze. “So…”

“I’m not sure there’s anywhere else I would want to be.”

The back of my eyelids prickle, and I look away, pretending I’m busy shucking my hoodie and sneakers, not wanting him to see me cry because he said something so sweet.

He steps into my room, closing the door behind him. “What were you doing before?”

“Staring at the ceiling.” The unvarnished truth slips out, and it is embarrassing. “I couldn’t sleep after I spoke to you. Couldn’t concentrate on reading either, and I didn’t want to watch anything, so I was staring at the ceiling like a weirdo.”

“Not as much of a weirdo as you might think.” He pulls off his hoodie.

I try not to get caught staring at the tanned skin on his belly when his shirt rides up.

He’s hanging his hoodie on a hook behind my door when he accidentally knocks the coat I wore to seduce Reid.

I blanch as three packets of ridged condoms tumble out of my pocket. I thought the pocket was empty. Clearly not.

“I’ll get that,” Caleb offers, already bending.

“No need, I’ve got it.” I squeeze around him, red-faced. I bundle up the coat and the condoms into a ball and shove everything into the corner of my room.

“Aren’t you going to hang it?”

“Um, I just noticed a stain. I need to wash it,” I lie.

He nods as he steps out of his sneakers, not giving the coat a second glance.

I release a quiet sigh, relieved he didn’t see it.

By mutual agreement, we get settled on my bed, and he pulls the covers over us both. “Come here.”

To my surprise, he tugs me into his arms, pressing my cheek against his chest.

With my big light off and my bedside lamp on, it's so cozy that I don’t intend to move again for all the money in the world.

“I was staring at the ceiling as well,” he admits, again surprising me. “Usually, I think about plays.” He runs his fingers up and down my back, making me wish I wasn’t wearing PJs so it was bare skin. “Tonight was the first time I was thinking about something else.”

I relax against him. “What were you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Me?” I tilt my head up.

He nods. “Is there a reason you have a trench coat pocket full of condoms?” His voice is neutral.

Shit. He saw. He pretended not to, but he must have been dying of curiosity all this time, which is why he had to ask. And you know what? I can’t blame him.

“There is no way to answer that question without sounding like a psycho,” I say.

“Try.”

“I emptied a condom machine and then seduced Reid.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Was emptying the condom machine a requirement for this seduction?”

“At the time, yes, it was.” Now, I struggle to understand my rationale. “Caleb?”

“Myers.”

“Does it bother you that I slept with Javier and Reid?”

“Should it?”

I search his expression but this man is impossible to read. “Well, I thought you would… well, I’m not sure what I thought you would do. Or say.”

“You’re ours, Myers.”

“And you really don’t mind…” When will I stop blushing? “Um, sharing me?”

His expression sharpens. “Is this a problem for you?”

“No,” I blurt out. “Not for me. Just…” My voice trails off.

“Just what?”

“I don’t know anyone who does what we’re doing. And I thought it would feel wrong.”

“But it doesn’t feel wrong?”

I shake my head. “Does it feel wrong to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I’ve talked with Reid and Jay and it doesn’t feel wrong to them either.” He’s smiling slightly as he rearranges us on the bed. I assume it’s because he needs to get comfortable on a bed that’s too small for him.

“Oh, that’s good.”

It doesn’t occur to me that he might have a different reason for moving us around until he’s peering down at me with hooded eyes. “Have you always been like this?”

I scrunch my nose, confused. “If you’re thinking something good, then yes. Definitely. If it’s something bad, then no, it’s a recent development that I’m certain will go away soon.”

There. That should cover all bases.

He continues to peer down at me for so long that I get nervous. “What?”

Is he regretting coming here?

Did I say something I shouldn’t have?

Will I ever stop opening my mouth and sticking one of my size eight feet inside?

His eyes rove my face, lingering for a second too long on my lips. “I can’t believe you’ve been on the same campus as me all this time, and I never saw you.”

I swallow as my fingers clench around his dark gray T-shirt. It’s his shirt or I will give into temptation and run my fingers along his square jaw or his full lower lip.

“What would you have done if you had seen me?”

“Gotten to know you, and…”

His eyes settle on my lips, and I hold my breath when his head lowers. He doesn’t need to tell me what the other thing is.

He’s going to kiss me.

Caleb Boucher is going to kiss me, right freaking now.

I must be near blue in the face when his lips touch mine.

He lifts his head slightly, a tiny flicker of amusement warming his green gaze. “Breathe, Myers. I just found you. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

I take a breath, and Caleb touches his lips to mine, his sweet words as surprising to me as the uncertainty of his kiss. As if he’s afraid I might change my mind or that I don’t want this at all. I part my lips as I stroke my palms over his back, urging him closer, so he knows I like what he’s doing and that I want him to continue.

He groans as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming my body. He’s big everywhere, but he carefully braces himself over me so he doesn’t crush me.

I love the way he tastes. His lips are firm, his breath is hot, and there’s a quiet urgency in the way he sweeps his tongue into my mouth. It feels like he’s always been there. His body tucked against mine, and his kiss stealing all the reason from my mind.

He rocks against me. I clench the thin cotton of his T-shirt, and my breath catches as I whimper into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss, breathing hard as he stares down at me. “Myers?”

What are words again? I think I forgot. “Huh?”

“I’m not crushing⁠—”

“No.”

He kisses me again, then breaks away, with a muffled curse.

“What’s wrong?” My grip tightens on the back of his T-shirt in a futile attempt to keep him right where he is. If he wanted to leave, grabbing his shirt is hardly going to stop him.

He frowns down the length of my bed as he shifts around a little more. “You weren’t lying about this bed, were you? My toes are curling over the end of your bedframe.”

It’s not that funny. Truly, it’s not. Yet my giggle sneaks up on me, starting from low in my belly and working its way up.

Suddenly, all I can picture is a giant bat with Caleb’s face hanging upside down from the branches of a tree.

I try to stifle my laughter when I catch Caleb looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“What?” he asks, smiling slightly.

Taking multiple breaks to catch my breath between uncontrollable giggles, I pant out the image in my head, and his deep, rumbling laugh fills my room.

"Shit, Myers,” he breathes, “I can't remember the last time I laughed like that."

Eventually, our laughter dies down. “You still want to stay?” I ask. “Even though the bed is⁠—”

“I do.”

I release my hold on his shirt, figuring there has to be something I can do to make him more comfortable. “Get up.”

He raises his eyebrow. “You’re kicking me out?”

Now he’s the one gripping onto my shirt. Absolutely not what I was expecting, but I can’t say I don’t like it.

“I have an idea,” I say, sitting up.

Expression openly curious, he humors me, getting to his feet as I do the same.

I remove the bed covers and pillows and place them on the floor. With thick carpets and a heavy comforter, it should be comfortable to sleep. And our mild Pennsylvania nights mean we shouldn’t get cold with a single sheet covering us.

Caleb stands off to the side, watching me curiously as I spread everything around until I nod, satisfied.

“That’s as comfortable as I can make it.”

He joins me on our floor bed. “My feet are no longer hanging over the edge of the bedframe like a bat. Thanks, Myers.”

I giggle as he kisses me.

And everything stops being funny as I slide my arms up over his shoulders, stroking the muscles of his back as he angles his head and deepens the kiss.

His hands roam over me, exploring every inch of me, making me painfully aware that I’m not skinny like the girls from practice who were trying to capture his attention. That I could do with working out more, or losing weight from my ass, my belly, and⁠—

He breaks the kiss. “Myers?”

I swallow, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah?”

“Having second thoughts?”

I stare at the corner of my room, so I won’t have to look him in the eye for this. “No. Just…”

“Just what?”

I dart a rapid glance at him. “You probably… you’re probably used to less…” Geez, why did I think bringing this up was a good idea? “Of a girl.”

I wince at my utter brainlessness.

His fingers are gentle when he catches my chin.

He brings my gaze back to him. “You think I’m having second thoughts?”

I nod once, a tiny motion.

Amusement flickers across his gaze. “Was that when I was fighting to get your clothes off because you turn me on that much?”

My mouth falls open. He gently nudges it closed. “Or was it when I was so nervous I would fuck this up and you’d change your mind?”

“You thought that?”

“I did.”

“Oh.”

Amusement flares to life. “I need more than that, Myers.”

“I just thought that you might be disappointed,” I say quietly, giving voice to my insecurity. It’s not easy talking about this. Maybe if he weren’t one of the hottest guys on campus, it wouldn’t be so hard.

“With you?” He furrows his brow.

“Well, yeah.”

“Myers, you have a beautiful body.”

“But I’m not thin and I have a booty.”

“And only thin people with flat asses are beautiful?” He arches an eyebrow, and I realize how narrow my idea of beauty is.

Max is lean and strong, yet she’s beautiful. My mom was big her whole life, but she was stunning. There are so many different versions of beauty, and I don’t understand why I'm so fixated on what I need to be to be considered beautiful.

“No, you’re right.” I shake my head. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“The only way I’d be disappointed is if you told me to leave.”

“I want you to stay.”

His lip twitches. “Good. And I happen to like your booty, Myers. I might have had one or two passing thoughts of it when I was staring up at my ceiling.”

“Oh.”

“More, Myers. I need more words.”

Yeah, those ohs have to go. I do one better. I grip the front of his shirt and tug him down to me. He comes, grinning, until our lips meet.

His kiss is everything.

His fingers slide under my top, push up, and he rolls us.

When I’m on top, he grips the bottom of my top, pulls it up over my head, and tosses it aside.

I’m blushing even before his gaze dips to take in my bare chest. I’ve always had a bigger booty and small boobs. It’s one of my biggest insecurities. I would have covered myself if I wasn’t seeing the heat darkening Caleb’s gaze.

He doesn’t just like what he sees; it’s turning him on.

Not it. Me. I’m doing that to him.

“Beautiful…” he murmurs.

I stop blushing so hot as he grips my hips and urges me higher on his chest. “Over here, Myers. I was paying so much attention to your perfect ass that I forgot all about your pretty tits.”

My fingers clench in his hair at the first hot kiss he presses on my right breast. His teeth rake over the delicate flesh. He closes his mouth on my right nipple, forms a tight seal, and sucks.

My back arches, breath punching from my throat as I tilt my head back, giving him more room. His dark blond hair brushes my overheated skin, and I shiver. He’s groaning hungrily as he sucks, his hands caressing my back, down to massage and squeeze my booty.

He releases my right nipple with a soft pop and turns to my left, my eyes fluttering open as my back makes contact with the cool cotton sheet.

I’m on my back, my breasts damp from Caleb’s kisses. He’s braced over me. Eyes fused to mine, he rises, fists the bottom of his shirt, and drags it over his head where it joins my top.

The light from my lamp casts shadows over finely honed, tanned muscle. He’s hard all over. And so beautiful.

"You still want this, Myers?” His voice is low and husky, sending tiny butterflies fluttering in my belly.

I grip the waistband of my PJs and push down, holding his gaze as I kick the material away.

His jaw tightens, and he swallows so hard the sound echoes in my tiny dorm room.

And he never takes his eyes from my body as his fingers caress my breasts, the curve of my belly, and my rounded hips.

His gaze shifts to mine. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Myers.”

“You’re just saying that to⁠—”

His hard kiss silences me. “I never say something because I think it’s what someone wants to hear. I say what I feel. And this is what I feel. You’re beautiful, Myers. Just take the damn compliment, woman.”

My lips twitch as I arch my brow, teasing, “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll have to show you.” His breathing is unsteady, and his hands shake when he shoves at his pants, eager to kick them away. “Fuck, I’m so hard I can barely think.”

I’m back to holding my breath when he lowers his head, kissing the tip of my nose in a sweet gesture that makes me smile.

He presses a kiss on my chin and angles down, kissing my collarbone, then embarking on a slow exploration of every my curve.

I’m writhing before he’s settled between my thighs, my pussy fluttering in response to his husky groan. “Fuck, Myers. You smell good.”

There’s no silencing my moan as he dips his head, grips my hips, and puts his mouth on me. He holds me open. His firm hands press my thighs outwards, tongue dipping into me, licking, sucking, driving me in-fucking-sane.

My toes curl, my stomach clenches, and my hold on Caleb’s hair has to be painful when he flings me into a body-trembling climax.

My body is still shuddering, and my throat is hoarse when I swallow, probably a result of a scream I hope didn’t just wake all the girls on my floor. The sound of crinkling foil penetrates my hazy mind. I blink my eyes open.

He’s on his knees in front of me, torn foil packet at his mouth. It looks familiar. My gaze darts to the corner of my room, where my balled-up coat is no longer balled up.

“Did you…” I let my voice trail off as he grins at me.

“Yup. I’m not sure what I would have done if you didn’t have these. It’s feeling like this was meant to be.”

“Really?” My voice is unsteady, the breath caught in my throat as he slides the rubber over his erection.

“Really.”

Shit, he’s so damn long and thick. My body tenses, my inner muscles anticipating the stretch when he pushes himself into me.

“Myers?” Amusement warms his tone as he settles between my thighs. “I’m going to need you to breathe, baby.”

I stroke my palms over hot male skin as I try to remember how to breathe. Not that it’s easy when he’s tucked up so close to me, one thrust and he’ll be half in me.

His lips taste mine. “You good?”

I slide my legs around him, hook my ankles behind his back, and meet his gaze. “Was I giving you the impression I wanted you to stop?”

His smile doesn’t last. Neither does mine.

Now he’s the one holding his breath as he works each hard inch into me. The stretch is unbelievable. An almost painful ache between my thighs that makes me wiggle and whimper under him. Sweat pops up on his brow, and I dig my nails into his back as I feel my muscles ripple around him.

“You’re so goddamn tight,” he hisses, easing his hips away and drilling back in. “Shit.”

It’s almost too much to take. I’m stretched tight around him, and he’s barely half inside me, yet I’m rocking against him, a keening sound spilling from my throat. “Faster. Please.”

His lips crash onto mine, and his fingers lace mine, lifting both my arms over my head. I’m pinned beneath him. He’s holding me down. I can’t do anything but take everything he has to give me.

Why is not being able to move so fucking hot?

He breaks the kiss, still breathing hard. “Fuck, Myers.” He’s slamming into me now, dark green eyes wild as he picks up the pace. He grunts with each hard thrust until he suddenly pulls his hands from mine and grips my hips, holding me at the angle he wants me.

He’s lifted my hips off the floor, his fingers are cutting into my skin, and each rolling thrust means he touches the end of me.

My thighs tremble, my hands desperately grabbing at his forearms as I twist and start to come apart. “Caleb… Oh my god.”

“That’s it,” he groans, pulling out, eyes tortured as he slams home again. “That’s fucking it.”

I’m babbling incoherent nothings as a wave of intense pleasure washes over me.

My eyes roll back; my hips grinding against Caleb, wanting to draw this out forever.

He hammers into me, chokes out my name, and holds me flush against him as he twitches and jerks inside me.

Minutes or hours later, my heart is still pounding when Caleb kisses my throat. He’s blanketing himself over me, and I can’t stop myself from stroking his sweat-dampened back. He feels too good not to touch.

“You okay, Myers?”

“Hmm-mmm.” I yawn, eyes closed.

“You want me to move?”

I shake my head, loving how his warm breath on my throat feels like a kiss. “Don’t.”

He’s silent for so long, I assume he’s fallen asleep until he speaks. “You feel like mine.”

I blink my eyes open as he lifts his head and peers down at me through serious, but sated dark green eyes. “That’s why it’s so easy being with you. You feel like mine. Like you were always meant to be.”

I lift my fingers to his stubbled jaw, trying not to cry when he kisses my palm. “You feel like mine, too, Caleb.”

And one day soon, I’ll have to let you go, or watch you walk away from me.

Chapter 33

Reid

Five days are all I have to finish my paper, and even with Tobie’s help, I’m against the wire.

Going to watch the kids play downtown wasn’t wise. Neither was the time I’ve been spending with Caleb or Javier, but I can’t turn my back on my friends when they need me.

I crack open my second energy drink of the day, rub tired eyes from staring at my laptop screen for the last three hours, and resume typing.

The paper itself isn’t too hard. It’s all the information I have to condense and form into an argument that’s the most time-consuming part.

“Hey, Pollyanna!” A loud knock sounds on my door.

Javier. Shit.

I slam my laptop lid down and shove everything—my laptop, textbooks, and notebook— under my covers before dragging the comforter over the top and leaping to my feet as my door swings open, and Javier sticks his head in.

He gives me a once-over. “You’re not dressed.”

I glance down at my sweatpants and hoodie. “Yeah, I am.”

“No. You’re not dressed for the party, and you’re behaving strangely.” His eyes skate around my room. “You’re up to something.”

“I’m just hanging out. What party?”

“The frat party. It’s a big one, so it’s a good op to play fake boyfriend.”

It’s been a while since we hit a party. Tobie isn’t a fan of them. Neither is Caleb. I don’t mind them when I’m not behind on an important paper.

Jay was the one pushing us to go to this party to show her that frat parties, as messy as they are at times, can also be fun.

“Play?” It hasn’t felt like play since we started this thing.

He rests his hip on the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Has she said what she’ll do when the ex comes crawling back?”

I shake my head. “She doesn’t believe it’ll happen.”

“It will.”

I silently agree with Jay’s confidence.

Tobie is incredible. She’s beautiful, smart, generous, and sex with her has been the best it’s ever been. If the ex has two brain cells to rub together, and he must if Tobie says he’s headed to law school, he’s going to realize his mistake and want her back.

He’s had six years with her. Why would she choose guys she’s barely known for a few weeks over a guy she loved for years?

I told Javier and Caleb about our run-in with Marc, though I’d kept silent about my fear as I’d watched them talk. I couldn’t hear what they’d been saying, but I’d seen the way Marc had been looking at her. No matter what happens, I can’t force her to stay with any of us. That decision is hers alone, and if she still loves him…

When Jay’s eyes settle on the suspicious bulge under my covers, I scratch my hair as I turn to my closet, deliberately blocking his view. “I’ll get ready and see you at the party.”

“It starts in thirty minutes,” he warns.

“And I’ll be there.” Even though I should be right here finishing my paper.

I agreed to this fake-date thing. Hell, I initiated it. So, if Tobie needs me, I’ll be there.

He’s frowning when my phone vibrates.

I pick up the phone from my desk. Ryder.

“Go. I need to talk to my brother,” I tell Jay.

Still looking like he wants to argue, he leaves, and I answer the call.

“Who’s the girl?” Ryder asks.

I pause on my way to lock my door, something I should have done before I started working on my paper. “What girl?”

“The girl your coach was chewing you out for kissing mid-game.”

“You watched it.”

“Damn right I watched it. When have I ever missed you play?”

He hasn’t. That’s what.

“It’s complicated.” I pull back my comforter and return my books and laptop to my desk.

“Doesn’t seem that way to me. I haven’t seen you look at a girl like that since Ivy Stevens pushed you over in the sandpit, and you threw sand in her face in retaliation.”

I grin. “Ah, puppy love. You didn’t mention this before.”

“I was waiting for you to bring it up. You haven’t, so I’m bringing it up. Who is she?”

I drop into my seat. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

“The big game is right around the corner, little brother. Is now really the time to lose your focus on a complication?”

I grin. “You sound like Caleb.”

“About that…”

“About what?”

“After he scored at the last game, he looked right at her. That guy never looks at anything but the other side, his teammates, the coach, and the puck.”

I should’ve known he’d pick up on that. He watches all my televised games since he can’t come to them, and when he isn’t working nights at the factory, he’ll call me up and give me pointers. His eyes are as sharp as any coach.

I open my laptop and curse when I discover that my work for the last thirty minutes didn’t save.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I lie. “You realize I’m fighting an uphill battle with you not coming to speak to Coach yourself.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Which is exactly what you’ve been doing every time I’ve brought up the coaching position.”

He blows out a sigh and follows it up with a yawn.

As always, guilt is a heavy weight on my chest. Here I am complaining about a paper I hate while still getting to do the thing I love on a daily basis. Ryder loves hockey as much as I do, and he gave it up for me.

“No one is going to want to hire me as a hockey coach, Reid.”

“Of course, they won’t if you don’t put yourself out there. I wouldn’t be the player I am without you.”

“You’re a natural talent. You’d have done fine without a single word from me. Let it go, Reid. Hockey is in the past.”

“Then why are you watching all my games and giving me the same or better coaching advice than my coaches now?”

He doesn’t respond.

“You still love the game as much as you always have. Come and speak to Coach McIntyre. He’d hire you within five minutes of speaking to you. Once he’s on board, he’ll convince the school to take you on.”

Right now, I can’t convince Coach that Ryder wants the job when he won’t even interview for it.

“It’s over, Reid. Let it go.”

“That third assistant coach position won’t stay vacant for long. Once we win the championship, there’ll be more applicants than Coach can handle. There won’t be another chance.”

“It’s over.”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Then you leave me with no other choice than to be devious.”

“Devious how?” I can practically feel his frown.

“I have to go. Speak later.” I hang up.

I’ve been secretly recording his advice. Not so I could get him a job—the coaching position wasn’t an option before. I recorded his advice, and I played it over until I got everything down pat. Now those recordings are going to prove very useful.

My brother is stubborn. That’s okay. I know how to be stubborn too.

If he won’t come to speak to Coach himself, I’ll have to show him exactly what my brother is capable of.

I down my energy drink, glance at the clock, and tell myself I’ll work on the paper for fifteen minutes.

I’ll get ready for the party at seven.

Chapter 34

Tobie

My book isn’t where I left it.

It’s six thirty, and I should be getting ready for the party tonight, but I just noticed it’s been a second since I saw the smutty book Max stuck with hot pink Post-it tabs.

“So, where is it?” I mutter, frowning as I think.

I tear the sheets off my bed.

No book.

I drop to my knees and peer under my bed.

I make a mental note to vacuum under it soon, but no book.

The last one who was in here was who?

“Think, think, think…”

Javier.

Maybe.

Reid was in my room, but I can’t see him taking it. Or, I guess, if he did take it, he would absolutely not be keeping quiet about what was in those pages.

Caleb…

Nope. Don’t see him grabbing a smutty book.

But Javier…

He was flipping through the book last time, so maybe he saw the pink tabs and curiosity drove him to take it when he had all those flowers delivered.

I still have three large bouquets of white, pink, and red roses sitting in vases on my desk and a bookcase, and every time I see or smell their subtle scent, I grin like an idiot.

And it isn’t just the flowers that make me smile like an idiot.

It’s my fake boyfriends who are making me happier than Marc ever did.

Dad called earlier, and even he asked why I was in such a good mood.

“Just happy, Dad,” I said and swiftly changed the subject because I still haven’t told him that Marc and I broke up.

But now that I know my book is missing, I need to find it before this party, or I’ll spend the entirety trying to figure out which one of them has it and why they would take it.

I rush over to Max’s room, knock twice, and bounce from foot to foot as I wait for her to call out, “Come in.”

I rush in. “Please tell me you were in my room, and you borrowed my book.”

Max is stretched on a hot pink yoga mat on the floor, windows wide open to let air in, and her laptop is sitting on her bed. “Nope. Why?”

Occasionally, I would join her, and we’d do a yoga workout together. Since she sticks with it regularly, and I flake out on my workouts, she can do twists and stretches that would snap me in half.

I shut her door and lean against it. “I can’t find it,” I whisper.

A smile stretches across her face. “Maybe you should ask Javier if⁠—”

“I’m not asking him anything,” I hiss.

“Reid?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Caleb?”

“He has no reason to take it.”

“So, it has to be Javier.”

“No, because he doesn’t need a book to—” I snap my mouth shut. Too late.

Way, way too late.

Max is like a bloodhound.

The tip of her nose twitches, and her eyes sharpen as she pounces on my slip-up. “He doesn’t need a book to do what?” She gets to her feet and prowls toward me. “Show you a good time? Give you a good time.”

Oh God. I was hoping to avoid this.

“Nope. Not talking about this. Gotta go.” I spin around to leave before we can delve deeper into my love life.

I am never admitting to anyone that I had sex with Javier in the middle of a fair where anyone could have walked in on us and that I have absolutely no regrets about having done so. Public sex with the unexpected thrill of discovery from someone who could walk in any moment is not Tobie Myers.

She blocks the doorway with her body, pulling some fancy yoga move to get around me. Arms and legs spread wide like a starfish to block the door. Her eyes narrow. “Who did you sleep with?”

“No one,” I deny, smiling at her position. “You look ridiculous, you know that, right?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She stares at me for a beat, then nods confidently. “Reid.”

“How the hell could you…” She flashes me a grin, and I sigh. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“Had to be,” she says smugly. “Caleb is still being distant and gruff, so it had to be Reid. It was after he kissed you at the game, right?”

I don’t look her in the eye when she comments on Caleb. He might be distant and gruff to her and to everyone else, but he isn’t that way around me.

She drops her arms and steps around me to return to the yoga mat. I guess she got what she wanted out of me.

“What makes you think it was after the game?”

She flips her ponytail out of her face when she steps into a lunge. “After the way he kissed you? If a guy hauled me into his arms like that, I would jump him at the first opportunity.” She winks at me. “And I saw you creeping down the hallway in a trench coat. I bet I can guess what you had, or didn’t have on, under that coat.”

I sink against the door, covering my hot cheeks. “Max…”

She laughs. “I’m happy for you. Sounds like you’re having fun.” She peers up at me from her downward dog. “You are having fun, right?”

I don’t even have to think about my answer. “I am.” I’m aware that I have a stupid grin on my face when I say, “I like them, Max. I really like them.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

“Since when did you watch ESPN to know about that kiss, anyway?”

“Since you started dating hockey players. Everyone knows about the kiss. Marc probably cried when he saw it.”

I reluctantly smile. “He didn’t cry. He was at the game, which is how I know.”

“Then he went home to do it. Had to kill him to see Reid drag you into his arms like that.” She smirks. “It was like the big Hollywood movie moment, and he was the ex standing in the rain with his nose against the window.”

“That’s Lady and the Tramp.”

She nods approvingly. “Even better. He’s the scruffy mongrel that…”

I can’t help but laugh. “Stop.”

“Sure thing.”

I’m instantly suspicious. I eye her warily. “You did something.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

I cross my arms. “Spill.”

She drops into a plank from a downward dog and continues down to a cobra pose. “I might have done something.”

“Punched him?” I can totally see Max doing that after the way she nearly took Caleb’s eye out, poking a finger in his face.

“Nothing like that,” she says, coolly. “I might have sat at a table next to his in the dining room and said a little loudly that maybe the guy who was dating you before was a real fool because clearly the Magic Three cannot get enough of you. So, he must have been lacking in the bedroom department.”

“You didn’t…” I gasp.

She peers up at me through her lashes. “I lied. I didn’t say it quietly at all.”

Covering my mouth with a palm, I splutter a laugh. “What did he say?”

“Say?” Her eyes are big. “Absolutely nothing. He slammed his fork on his tray and stalked out of the room. I caught a couple of people looking at his pants, and I know what they were thinking.” She lifts her right hand, folds down all the fingers but her pinky, and wiggles it. “Well… I know what I would be thinking if I overheard that.”

I laugh, then I feel guilty for doing so. “Max…”

“Nope. He totally deserved it, Tobie. I have no regrets.”

“So, about the street hockey disappearance…” I start.

Her face turns blank. “Did you find your keys in your room?”

“I did. But⁠—”

“It’s not something I can talk about, Tobie,” she says, avoiding my gaze. “If I could, I would tell you over anyone else, but I can’t.”

I eye her for a beat and nod. “Okay.”

Her shoulders relax. “Thanks.”

“As long as you’re happy, okay?”

“I will be.”

Which means she’s not.

I worry, but this doesn’t feel like something I want to push her to talk about. “I’m here if you ever need me, okay?”

“I know,” she says with a small smile.

I straighten. I’ve been here longer than I should have and still need to shower before this party. After the BBQ meal with the rest of the team, I’m not dreading the party as much as I was the first. Javier said the team would be there, and there’s no way anyone is going to let Marc corner me like he did at the last one. “What should I do about this book?”

“Do?” She widens her eyes. “Why would you need to do anything? Javier has the book. He knows what you want.”

She grins at me then returns to a downward dog position as I turn to leave. “Stay, do yoga with me.”

“Can’t. Have a date.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “Your thing is better than mine. Have fun for the both of us, huh?”

“Sure, will do.”

“And Tobie?”

I twist around. “Yeah?”

“I know you slept with Javier as well.”

I frown. “How could you…” Her smile is smug. “Shit. You need to go work for the FBI or something.”

Her laughter follows me out of the room.

Chapter 35

Caleb

“You know I love you, Tobie.”

I pause in the open doorway, my eyes narrowing on the back of Marc’s head.

I said I’d pick up Tobie since her dorm is in the opposite direction to the frat house. Javier and Reid are meeting us there.

I did not expect to find her ex cornering her outside her room.

She’s beautiful in a green lace dress, and she’s not even trying to hide how uncomfortable he’s making her.

My good mood evaporates.

Ever since I made a spontaneous decision to check I hadn’t freaked Tobie out led to some of the best sex I’ve ever had, followed by her curling up and falling asleep in my arms, I thought nothing could shit on my mood.

I was wrong.

This.

Seeing Tobie afraid and uncomfortable will absolutely do it.

“You don’t cheat on someone you love, Marc. Can you move, please? I have to go.” She attempts to go around him, but he blocks her.

“We’re talking about this now, Tobie.”

He reaches out a hand to stop her, but I’ve heard—and seen—enough.

I push the door open, and it slams shut behind me. “Put your hand on her, and you won’t like what I do.”

Marc whirls around, and Tobie’s eyes widen as I stalk toward Marc, using my size to crowd him away from her.

His chest puffs up as he retreats. “This is between me and Tobie.”

“It stopped being about you and Tobie the day you cheated on her. Leave, or I will move you.”

Jaw clenched, he steps around me.

I’m asking Tobie if she’s okay when her eyes dart behind me, widening in alarm.

“Look out!”

I swing around, dodge the fist Marc aimed at the back of my head, sidestep the next lazy swipe as he stumbles. I slam my fist into his face, grunting at the shooting pain in my forearm, but taking intense pleasure in watching Marc hit the ground.

I stare him down. “Come near Tobie again and you’ll be eating through a straw.”

Marc scrambles to his feet, blue eyes spitting with rage. “You’ll regret this.”

He whirls around, and this time, I keep my eyes on him until the door to the staircase leading down to the lobby slams shut behind him. Only then do I turn back, shaking off the discomfort in my right hand.

“You punched my ex-boyfriend in the face,” she whispers, breathing hard.

“Should I not have?”

I don’t regret it, but if she still has feelings for him, I should have asked her to turn around first.

I’ve ventured into Reid territory. He’s the act on the spur-of-the-moment type.

Me?

As Captain, I can’t afford to think with my heart instead of my head.

She continues to stare at me, breathing harder now.

Shit. Is she going into shock?

“Tobie?” I frown. “Do you⁠—”

I automatically grasp her hips, holding her against me when she presses her lips to mine. She’s short and is standing on her tiptoes to reach my mouth. I don’t just wrap my arms around her; I lift her, groaning as I deepen the kiss.

It’s far too soon when she breaks away, her lips rosy. “I shouldn’t have kissed you for doing that. I mean, it’s violence. You don’t reward violence.”

I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince, herself or me.

Before I can respond, she wraps her arms around me and kisses me again.

I have her pressed against the wall outside her room with no memory of how we got there when she finally pulls away.

“Is your hand okay?” she asks, concerned.

What hand?

I lick my lips, eyes darting to her mouth. “Fine. Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head.

I give her a quick scan for any sign of bruising in case he grabbed her, just in case. “Are you sure? Because I can kill him if he did.”

Her expression softens. “Oh, that’s sweet.”

It is?

She must read my confusion because she smiles. “I didn’t mean sweet. Just… thanks for being there. I’m not good at fighting my own battles. I say nothing, or I throw a glass at his head.”

“You what?”

Her smile grows. “I wish I were making it up, but when we broke up, I threw a glass at his head.”

I frown, my arms tightening protectively around her when I think of her being alone if Marc returns and refuses to leave. “Next time he turns up, get into your room, lock the door, and call me.”

“What will you do?”

“You don’t want to know the answer to that.”

She kisses me again.

I don’t know what it is about me threatening to hurt her ex that keeps encouraging her to kiss me, but I wish I had thought I’d threatened it before now.

We’re in the hallway. Someone could walk out of their room at any moment, and I have her pinned to the wall.

But when Tobie winds her legs around my hips, rocking against me, I stop caring about tonight’s party. I need to be inside her. Now.

Can’t do this here.

I rip my mouth from hers as I move us toward her door. “Key?”

“Right pocket.” Her mouth crashes back onto mine the second the last word leaves her lips. I fumble for her pockets, searching for her key, but keep getting distracted by her lush curves.

I’m so fucking hard. I need to be inside her.

“Caleb,” she moans.

Right. Key. Got it.

I yank it out and groan in frustration because getting her door open would be easier if I stopped kissing her to unlock it.

Tobie laughs into my mouth, breaks the kiss, and takes over, unlocking the door for me.

I’m laughing as we stumble inside her room.

She’s back to grinding on me as the door slams shut behind us.

I’m not even looking where we’re going as I cup the back of her head, still kissing her as we topple onto her bed.

We fight with our clothes.

I shove her dress up so I can see those gorgeous tits while I fuck her. She wrenches her panties down as I fumble to get my wallet out of my pocket, nearly dropping it.

Finally, I fish a condom out as Tobie sucks my tongue into her mouth.

We’re groaning, squirming together.

I pull away, yank my pants down, and get the condom on my dick in record time.

When I slip a finger in to test her wetness, her pussy contracts around me.

“Now,” she whimpers, eyes huge, spreading her legs wider. “Please, now.”

I thrust into her. Hands clasping her hips, I fuck her like she’s the air I need to breathe.

She’s moaning as I drag her toward me and the pressure in my head builds. She feels so perfect. I can’t believe this woman is mine.

I hold her gaze as my balls get tight. A roar starts in my head as she cries out. Her pussy clamps tight around me, and I slam into her one last time, groaning as I jerk and strain inside her.

I slump, forehead against hers, both of us panting as she winds her arms around me.

For several seconds, we hold each other, our breaths evening out.

I lift my head to peer down at her. “I have to punch your ex in the face more often.”

She laughs, sliding her arms around me and tilting her face up, an invitation for a kiss I’m happy to give her.

“You ready to go to this party?” I ask, not wanting to move.

It was the same before. Leaving her took every ounce of strength in me and then some. If we don’t move soon, we never will.

“Not really,” she admits, stroking her hands up and down my back, “But we agreed.”

Yep. We did.

“Come on, let’s get up.”

Her fingers grip my shirt, halting me. “The thing with Marc. Will you get in trouble from your coach for fighting?”

I shake my head. “I was defending myself. Coach might grumble a bit, but that’s Coach.”

We get up.

I deal with the condom, and we straighten our disheveled clothes.

I smile as I watch her finger comb her hair. “No need to keep fussing with it.” I slide my hand down the length of her bare arm, lace our fingers together, and gently tug her closer. “You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “No, I don’t.”

“You do.” I kiss her again. It’s fast becoming an addiction. “What did I tell you before?”

Her lips twitch. “Something about learning to take a compliment?”

I tug her close, cradling the back of her soft hair as I say against her lips. “Just as well as you take my cock. And Myers?”

Her breathing kicks up. “Yeah?”

“You take it like no one else.” I press a hard kiss on her lips, reluctantly pulling away or we will never leave this room.

After leaving her room, I pause for her to lock the door before we descend the stairs. I had wondered if Marc was still around, but there’s no sign that he’s lurking nearby, waiting for that payback he warned was coming.

She glances down as we cross the lobby. “We’re holding hands.”

I swallow my smile. “Is that not something a boyfriend does?”

She transfers her gaze from our joined hands to my face. “I guess.”

I hold the door open for her and lead the way out. “Your ex might be watching.”

He isn’t.

His back is stiff with anger as he stalks off into the distance.

I want to know what it would feel like if we were really together. For real. Not pretend.

And it feels good.

Really-fucking-amazing.

Her soft hand in mine, and the sweet scent of her skin tempting me to tug her closer, feels better than it should for a girl I’m pretending to date. And when people glance over at us, I want to tuck her under my shoulder, proud and pleased that she’s mine.

“Uh… Caleb?”

Tobie is frowning up at me. “You’ve stopped.”

“Shit.” I loosen my grip in case it’s too tight and resume walking. “Sorry. I was thinking about something.”

More like mooning over you, Myers.

“Let’s go.” I keep walking.

I feel her looking at me as we cross the quad toward fraternity and sorority row. There are six fraternities and sororities at Lamont, and the biggest campus parties happen there almost every night of the week. “What is it?”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Deal with pressure. I was watching you play, and everyone was staring at you, and I could feel how badly they wanted you to score.”

The team needs me at my best, so do the fans, and so do I.

I shrug. “I try not to think about it.”

“And is it easy to do?”

I start to tell her yes, but her question makes me wonder if maybe that’s the thing throwing me off my game.

We’re building up to the thing I’ve wanted since recruiters started circling—win a championship in college and be responsible for making that win happen.

“Those expectations have been there for a long time.”

She scrunches her nose, her forehead furrows, and it’s clear she doesn’t understand.

I motion to the quad we’re crossing. It’s a big, green open space surrounded by buildings on all sides. It’s late, so only a few students sit on the grass, flipping through books or chatting in small groups. “Imagine crossing the quad.”

“So?”

“How did it feel the first time you did it alone as a freshman?”

She shivers. “I practically ran across it. I swear, everyone was staring at me. I felt exposed.”

A natural reaction for a girl from a small town in Nebraska suddenly surrounded by thousands of students.

I nod. “And now?”

“Now?” Her eyes drift over the quad. “Now I don’t even think about it. I just get to where I need to go, regardless of how busy it is.”

“That’s what it’s like. Before, I swear I could feel every eye on me when I was on the ice,” I explain.

She shivers again. “I felt it, and I wasn’t even on the ice.”

I squeeze her hand. “Then it became background noise. It’s there, but I can focus on it if I want or tune it out if it’s a distraction.”

And lately, it’s been a distraction.

I frown.

“What is it?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing. Come on.”

But I can’t help but think of how I used to feel playing hockey. People used to cheer and crowd around, calling or chanting my name. And I would feed off their excitement. I’d want to impress them and give them my best.

It made me a better player.

I risked more. I was hungry for every single goal, even the ones with impossible odds that no one would go for.

And sometimes, I made the impossible happen. I can’t remember when that feeling went away. It just did. Suddenly, I started seeing the crowd as a distraction, not as something that had made me grow as a player.

Is that what’s throwing me off my game?

Who am I playing for? Me? Them? Or something else?

And why, at the cusp of entering the NHL at twenty-two, don’t I know something I should have known years ago?

I used to feel like I was a god. Then I met Reid and Javier, and when we were perfectly in synch, no one could touch us. It’s when people started calling us the Magic Three.

I laughed when I first heard the nickname people gave us. So did Reid and Javier. But we kept winning and winning, and we all stopped laughing, and it became real.

Just like this fake-date thing was supposed to be pretend, yet Reid and Javier are treating Tobie like she’s actually ours. I’m starting to do the same.

I study Tobie, walking quietly by my side. We’re still holding hands, and I don’t want to let her go.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

The last time I wanted someone as much as I want her was never.

Not once. Not until Tobie.

Javier says she’s easy to be around. Not for me. She makes me painfully aware of how perfectly she fills the emptiness I didn’t know I had in my life.

As if she feels my attention, she flicks her gaze toward me.

“Dreading this party?” I ask her.

The party was Javier’s suggestion. Everyone is buying our relationship, but this isn’t to rub it in Marc’s face like the last one. Javier wants to show Tobie that a college party can be fun, especially since we’re all graduating soon.

She smiles. “Not really. I’ve seen the power of your legendary glare in action. I know where to go if there’s someone I don’t want to talk to.”

“I’ll save you a space, Myers,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You always have a space right beside me.”

The party is in full swing by the time we arrive.

My nose itches from whatever the fuck someone is smoking in the back. It’s sweet and herby, and I’m not interested in investigating it.

It’s not as packed as the last party, and there’s a room set aside for dancing. I don’t dance. But I caught Tobie give that room a lingering look as we passed it on our way in. Does she want to dance?

Should I ask her?

“Brave must be rubbing off on Reid,” Javier says, glancing at his watch.

“What?” I rip my eyes from Tobie as she lifts her bottle of beer to her lips. Since I saw her with the lollipop Doc gave her, her mouth has become an obsession. Fuller on the top than the bottom. Soft and plush-looking. It’s not the marijuana someone is smoking in the backyard I crave. It’s the taste of her lips.

She was reaching for a cup of punch someone offered her when we arrived. Knowing—or not knowing—what someone put in there, I suggested a bottle of something instead. I’ve been to enough of these parties in my freshman and sophomore years to remember the people who knocked back the punch and spent the rest of the party clogging up a bathroom, hurling their guts up.

No way was I letting that happen to Tobie.

“Reid mentioned he would meet us here,” Javier says, his gaze fixed on my red knuckles as his eyebrow arches. "Is there something you want to share?”

“Just a run in with Tobie’s ex.”

“I’m guessing he was dumb enough to provoke you. What happened?”

I fill him in on what happened and Javier shakes his head. “Sounds like he was asking for it.” He looks at Tobie. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at him. “Fine. Better than fine.”

He tilts his head, eyeing her curiously and smiling when she blushes and looks away. When his gaze returns to me and his expression turns knowing, it’s clear he’s worked out what we were doing before the party.

“What was Reid doing when you reminded him about the party?” I ask, because he should have been here before us.

Javier shrugs. “He wasn’t even dressed. I don’t know what he was doing, but he was being damn secretive about it.”

Tobie fidgets and looks away when I glance at her.

My eyes narrow on her and so do Javier’s.

“You know something,” I drawl.

She doesn’t quite meet my eye as she shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”

Javier laughs. “Yeah, like I said, the worst liar in the world. Spill, Gatinha.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” she denies, her cheeks turning pink.

Those pink cheeks aren’t because she’s being secretive. She likes Javier’s nickname for her. I asked him what it meant, and he told me. Beautiful. Little kitten. It suits her. I’m not surprised she likes it.

I want Tobie to feel good because of something I do for her. It’s the reason I did something I shouldn’t have.

“You know what Reid is doing,” I say to Tobie.

She hesitates.

I take her hand, leading her somewhere quiet to continue this conversation.

I find an empty bedroom, pull Tobie inside, and try not to look at the bed as Javier closes the door to shut off most of the music.

“Tobie, he’s our friend. If something is wrong, we’d like to help him,” I say.

Her hand tightens around the beer bottle, and she picks at the white label with nervous fingers. “He told me not to say anything.”

Javier straightens, no longer relaxed but concerned. “Is something wrong with him?”

She sighs and reluctantly says, “He’s behind on his paper.”

I frown. “No, he’s not.”

Reid has been helping me practice so much this year, that I asked him if he didn’t need to be studying on his free periods instead. He shrugged it off and said…

My frown deepens. He changed the fucking subject. Every time, he changed the subject.

Why the fuck didn’t I notice until now?

“What paper?” Javier asks, setting his drink aside.

“Public policy. He said it was worth sixty percent of his grade, and he hadn’t started it.”

I freeze. “He hadn’t started it?”

We have spring break coming up. When we come back to school, we’re going to be busy planning for graduation and prepping for the championship. All our professors have been pretty clear that all papers need to be submitted this side of spring break, not after.

Like most of the team, we’re on full-ride athletic scholarships. Except Javier. They offered him one, but he refused, said he would pay his way and to offer the scholarship to someone who needed it more than he did.

Reid is smart, but our grades are tied to our scholarship. Flunking risks him being kicked off the team and potentially even the school.

“He’s started the paper now. I’ve been helping him,” Tobie says. “He said you needed his help more, and that Javier was going through some stuff, so he set it aside. He didn’t want you to know.”

Guilt burns white hot in my gut as I turn to Javier.

He looks as guilty as I feel. His breakup with Daniela hit him hard. And it’s not just the breakup but his parents’ refusal to support his decision to choose hockey as a career.

Reid is always so happy to help, dropping whatever to lend a hand, that it’s easy to forget he has just as much shit on his plate as the rest of us.

Tobie continues, “I only found out when I saw a note from his professor. That’s when I started helping him with the paper.”

“That isn’t good enough,” I growl.

Hurt fills her eyes.

I sigh. “That’s not what I mean. You are doing plenty. And I’m guessing you’ve been doing it for a while?”

She chews her lip and nods. “Whenever I could without making you suspicious.”

“But I haven’t been doing enough,” I say.

“Neither have I,” Javier adds.

I study her for a beat. “I know we agreed to help you get revenge on your ex. It’s why we’re here in the first place. But⁠—”

She puts her beer down on a dresser. “Reid needs help, and I’d rather be helping him than getting revenge on Marc.”

It gets harder every day to remember what my life was like before Tobie entered it.

We’re at Reid’s door fifteen minutes later.

I bang on the door as Tobie and Javier wait beside me. “Open up, Pollyanna!”

It’s hard to miss the sound of wrinkling paper, a soft thump, and a muttered curse before the door swings open to reveal a frazzled-looking Reid wearing sweats. “I was just about to get ready for the party. Give me⁠—”

“You’re an idiot,” I snarl.

“I was coming to the party, but⁠—”

I barge past him, spot the bulge under his comforter, and stalk over to his bed, ignoring his attempts to distract me.

I whip the sheets back to reveal a jumble of books and notepads.

I point at it. “That is why you’re an idiot. Why the fuck didn’t you tell us about the paper? We’d have helped you.”

Reid’s gaze slides to Tobie, and she shuffles from foot to foot, her expression sheepish.

“I’m sorry, Reid. I know you told me not to say anything, but⁠—”

“She’s a terrible liar,” Javier interrupts. “You should have said something.”

Reid crosses over to his desk, slumping into the seat and raking a hand through his hair. “I have it under control.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be hiding this.” I lift my hand before he can speak. “When was the last time you ate?”

His stomach rumbles.

Sighing, I pull my phone from my pocket. “I’m calling for takeout. We’re going to eat… you more than us, and we’re going to work on this paper together. We’ll pull an all-nighter if necessary.”

I bring up a food delivery app and start selecting dishes. Chinese takeout is Reid’s favorite, so that’s what we’re eating. Then I remember Tobie’s thyroid disease. “Tobie, I’m ordering Chinese. Is there anything you can’t eat? I can order you something else if you want?”

She smiles faintly. “It’s okay. The occasional takeout is fine.”

“But we have practice tomorrow morning,” Reid reminds me as I finish ordering and slip my phone back into my pocket.

I take in my teammate’s tired eyes and slumped shoulders and I ask myself what else I’ve been missing. I’m supposed to be his friend, not just his captain. I should have been looking out for him. Instead, I’ve been making everything about me.

Just like Dad.

I need to do better.

“I’ll drop Coach a text, let him know we’ll be late. If we miss it, we can make up for it. He’ll understand.” I look at Tobie. “You don’t have to…”

But she’s already walking over to the bed and picking up books and notebooks that she carries to the desk and sets them down. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Javier shrugs out of his coat and hangs it behind the door. “If we need Red Bull later, I can run out and grab some.”

Reid looks guiltily at Tobie. “We’re supposed to be helping you out, not working on my bitch of a paper.”

She smiles. “You’re more important than a revenge mission, Reid. How about we make a plan of attack before the food comes and get started after you’ve eaten?”

He circles her wrist, gently tugs her into his lap, pressing a soft kiss to her lips that I instantly want to repeat.

“You are some woman, Tobie Myers,” he says.

“Not really, but I’m glad you think so. Now quit distracting me, and let’s get to work.”

He salutes her with a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What’s the title of the paper?” Javier asks.

Reid tells us.

Javier sighs. “I’ll be back with the Red Bull. This sounds like an all-nighter.”

Damn right.

Chapter 36

Tobie

My ass is freezing as I sit with my eyes glued to the players on the ice.

They throw their heads back when they laugh and dive into each action, seemingly without a care in the world. When they go down, they spring back up again like the toughest elastic I’ve ever seen.

Their entire existence is physical, raw, and alive.

They make me feel alive. Like I’ve been sleep-walking through life all this time.

I crave them when I don’t see them. I miss them before I’ve said goodbye, and I shouldn’t be doing any of that when none of this is real.

They’re not mine, but I don’t want to let them go.

This practice, one of their last before spring break, has been intense. More so than the others I’ve been to. Sweat slides down their faces at the end of a drill. They gulp from bottles of water, their chests rising and falling as they recover.

They’ve been so focused on the three coaches leading this practice to spot me when I slipped into the arena and took my seat nearer the back than the front. I remember what Hallie said to me before, and I have no intention of provoking another confrontation.

Reid spots me.

A radiant grin transforms his face. “The most beautiful girl in the world has come to watch me.”

Good Lord, that man is beautiful.

And he doesn’t even try to keep his voice down.

Javier and Caleb had their heads bent together but turn to face me, forgetting all about their conversation as Javier smiles and Caleb nods.

And it hurts.

Because every time I see them, I’m counting down to the last time.

Heartbreak will bounce right off them. When we go our separate ways, they will have a line of women eager to mend their pretend broken hearts.

But I don’t, and my heartbreak won’t be pretend.

When Marc shattered my heart, all I could think to do was crawl under the covers like a wounded animal nursing its hurt until three hockey players offered me the promise of revenge. If they hadn’t, I would still be under my sheets, eyes red-rimmed, and pillow soaked with tears.

The coach blows his whistle, and their quick break is over. They return to practice.

I brought my grad school application with me.

I thought I would find it easier to make a decision about the rest of my life in a place where I’m watching these men living and breathing their dreams. Yet, I seem incapable of taking the first step toward mine.

There’s no doing my master’s in library science at the school near Marc. Not now.

Do I apply for another master’s in a different school, or do I go after the dream I’ve spent the last ten years pretending I don’t want?

I open my laptop and stare at my half-completed grad school application.

I’m still hesitating when someone drops heavily into the seat next to mine.

I snap my laptop shut and turn to my right.

A blonde-haired woman sits in the seat next to me, her eyes on the players and saying nothing.

Hallie.

She called me a puck bunny the last time she found me here. I start stuffing my laptop into my bag so I can leave before she turns even nastier.

“My brother fell in love with a girl who dumped him when he refused to get tickets for all her friends. That’s all she wanted him for. Tickets and access to parties.” She does nothing to hide the rage in her voice.

I pause.

Hallie flicks a rapid glance my way. “My brother’s nickname is Sweet. The team doesn’t just call Lincoln that because of his addiction to sweet things. She broke his heart.”

I stop stuffing my laptop in my bag.

After a brief pause, Hallie continues, “I’ve been to almost every game the last few years. I’ve been here for the wins, the losses, most of the heartbreaks, and I would do anything for those guys on the ice. When you spend that much time with people, they become family. No. They are family.”

I get where this is going. “So when you called me a puck bunny…”

“I thought you would hurt the guys, but seeing you with them, seeing them with you…” She turns in her seat to look at me. “You care. You’ve been good for them. Even Caleb isn’t as highly strung as usual, and Lord knows that man has been walking around with a solid titanium stick up his ass for most of this year. Getting him to unclench takes some doing, so I commend you. If someone told me I’d see him take time away from practice to watch kids play street hockey this close to the championship, I’d have told them to stop smoking whatever was causing their delusions.”

After the kids won their game at the rec center, I’d caught her looking at me. “So, you came to the street hockey to⁠—”

“Apologize. What I said to you without knowing the first thing about you wasn’t right. I can understand if you don’t want to accept. I was just trying to watch out for them the way they have for me over the years. Instead, I was cruel, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She gets up before I can respond. “I’m Hallie, by the way. I understand if you don’t want to forgive, but I just wanted to say I should have given you a chance instead of judging you.”

And she walks away.

Practice is over.

Javier had to run to class because he was late, and Reid is meeting with his professor to go over a question he has about his paper. Not all the guys have left, though. Five guys are still on the ice, chatting and laughing.

I pick up my bag and move closer to the ice instead of leaving like I know I should.

The coaches are standing near the side, arms crossed, speaking quietly to each other when Caleb skates over with his bottle of water to my side of the rink.

And he kisses me. Soft, lingering, as if it’s something we’ve always done. “Hey.”

“Hey.” My eyes drift over his shoulder to find his teammates staring, their mouths hanging open. “Uh…”

He turns around and snorts. “Ignore their ogling. They’ll stop soon. Weren’t you bored? I thought you’d bolt the second practice was over.” He takes a long gulp from his bottle, and I watch his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Surprisingly, no. It’s more fun than I thought it would be watching your coach scream at you,” I joke.

One corner of his mouth lifts as he twists the lid back on his bottle, sets it on the ground, and steps off the ice. I watch him curiously as he picks up two long blue pieces of plastic from the side of the rink’s entrance and slips them onto the blades of his skates.

“What are those?”

“Skate guards to protect the blades and stop me from embarrassing myself in front of a beautiful woman.”

My breath hitches as he looks right at me when he speaks. “And how would you embarrass yourself?”

“Trip over my own feet. So you can understand why I’m wearing them.”

“Why don’t you just take the skates off? Practice is over.”

“Not for me. I have to go through a couple of things with some of the guys in a bit.” He leans against the plexiglass and crosses his arms as he looks down at me.

“Captain’s responsibility?”

He nods and points his chin up to the stands. “What were you working on up there?”

I cock my head, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“You had your laptop out.”

“I thought you were focused on practice.”

“And I was.” He pauses, eyes hooded. “Some of the time.”

Our stare extends, and I look away as the tension ramps up between us. “My grad school application. That’s what I was working on.”

Maybe if I wasn’t so frazzled by his heated stare, I might have come up with a lie instead of talking about something I never talk about with anyone.

“You didn’t mention that before.”

“I’m still trying to decide what to do.”

He’s silent for a beat. “Because that future was tied up with your ex?”

My eyes fly to his. “How did you know?”

His lip quirks. “Most of the people in my class going to grad school decided what they’re doing and where they’re going weeks ago. A couple of them, months ago. You seem the sort to have that figured out early rather than later unless your plans have changed.”

After a moment, I nod. “We had a dream. Marc would take over from his dad and be the new attorney in our town, and I would be the new librarian.”

“And was this dream yours or his?”

“Ours. Both of ours.”

Caleb’s gaze is intense and probing. “Then why do I get the impression it’s more his than yours?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’d have found another grad school instead of me catching you staring into space, so confused I could feel your confusion from the ice.”

I don’t have an answer for him. I don’t even have an answer for me.

Because I don’t, I bend to grab my bag. “I should⁠—”

Two seconds later, he has me pinned to the plexiglass, muscled arms caging me in, the intoxicating scent of his skin and the hard, warmth of his body making this a prison I don’t want to escape from.

He’s still wearing his skates and is remarkably steady. Maybe those skate guards make balance easier. To me, it still seems like trying to walk on razor blades.

Even though he’s six-foot-four and practically looms over me, and he used that size to intimidate Marc into leaving my dorm, I’m not the least bit afraid.

His head lowers, and I have to fight with myself not to run my fingers along his shadowed jaw. “What’s your dream, Myers, and why aren’t you chasing it down?”

I look away so he won’t see how much I like it when he calls me Myers. It’s weird, I know, but I’m used to being on my own, studying on my own, and occasionally going out with my friends, but more often than not, alone.

A team of one.

He makes me feel like I’m a part of his team, and I like it. I like it a lot.

I snort. “You make it sound like I’m a squirrel going after a nut.”

His fingers are surprisingly warm. The tips are calloused as he angles my face back to his. His head lowers farther, closing the distance between us and making the breath catch in my throat. “I want to hear it.”

“No, you don’t. You think this fake dating is a waste of precious practicing time.”

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” His gaze flicks to my mouth and turns hungry. “It won’t be the first time you’ve changed my mind about something.”

“Like what?”

The guys on the ice shout something at Caleb.

He shouts back, “Ten minutes” Then he turns back to me and in a quieter voice, says, “I want to hear your dreams, Myers.”

“You have practice.”

“I have you, and I’m not finding it as easy as I thought to let you go.” His surprise at the softly spoken words mirror mine.

“I wanted to be a teacher,” I tell him quietly. Then I shake my head, my cheeks burning. People dream of being doctors, finding a cure for cancer, or being the best hockey player in the world. “I know it’s stupid. It’s not a big dream like⁠—”

His thumb on my mouth silences me. “With dreams, there’s no comparison. You want what you want. Why’d you want to teach?”

My eyes flick behind his shoulder. “Your coach is looking.” I thought his coach would be screaming at him to get back to it. But he seems surprisingly chill about the team captain casually pinning me to the side of the rink.

“If he wanted me on the ice, I’d know about it. Tell me.”

I look at him, trying to figure out if he means it.

He’s serious.

I shrug, twisting my fingers together. “I don’t know. It wakes something up inside me. It feels like something I would never get tired of doing. I love sharing what I know and helping people understand something they don’t.”

“So you’ve done it before, but you stopped. Why?”

I avoid meeting his gaze. “I just did.”

“But you still want it.” There’s no doubt in his voice.

I peek up at him. “What makes you think that?”

“Dreams don’t die for no reason, and I got a good look in your eyes when you were telling me yours. That fire is still burning. You need a Chinese takeout and energy drink intervention to figure out your next steps?”

I smile and try not to notice his eyes lingering on my lips.

Last night, we stuffed ourselves with Chinese food, cracked open energy drinks, and went to work ensuring Reid got his paper done.

We passed Reid books, skim read, highlighted sections, asked him questions, and bounced theories and arguments off each other. It was like taking an intensive crash course on public policy.

The tension in Reid’s shoulders eased as the hours crept by. He nodded his head, typing faster, nodding more, fingers flying over the keyboard, asking us to pass this or that book, or remind him which relevant section we’d discussed before.

The birds were tweeting when we stopped, sunlight bleeding around the sides of the blinds, and soft thumps and doors banging in the hallway announced students heading to class.

At six this morning, Reid had a fully fleshed-out solid second draft with evidence to back up his arguments. It still needs some fine-tuning like all good papers do, but the bones are there, and the bulk of the labor-intensive work is done.

He hugged Caleb and Javier goodbye. Me, he kissed and asked me to stay.

I said no. We both needed sleep, and nothing affects my Hashimoto’s like not getting enough sleep can. But I wanted to stay.

Caleb and Javier walked me to my room, and after taking my meds, I flopped into bed, exhausted, bones aching, and shivering as I desperately hoped my sleepless night hadn’t triggered a flare-up. Even knowing I needed sleep, I barely got any because being with them is so perfect that I can’t imagine it ending. And it will end.

Let’s be honest. Even if we stay together after the championship, we’ll have, what? A summer of fun before they join the NHL. They already have girls throwing themselves at them. What will it be like when they’re professional athletes?

How can I ever compete with the beautiful women who will want them then?

Easy. I can’t. And I won’t be able to.

So I shed my first tear, knowing so many more will come.

“I have to go,” I tell Caleb, the backs of my eyelids burning.

His forehead furrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I don’t meet his eyes as I step around him and grab my bag.

“Tobie?” he calls after me as I hurry away.

“I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

But we won’t. Not once I’ve done what I need to.

Chapter 37

Javier

Tobie is standing outside my room, and she looks confused and sad.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she denies.

But something is.

She’s wearing one of the newer outfits Clarissa picked for her—a knee-length skirt and a blouse. It’s the same outfit she’d worn at the arena a couple of hours before. I’d needed to get to a class when practice ran over, and she’d still been sitting in the stands, her brows furrowed.

I take a step back, holding the door open for her. “Come on in.”

“You’re not busy?” she asks, not moving.

“Even if I were, it’s you. Come in.”

She briefly smiles at me, then walks in, her eyes flicking around my room.

My room is always clean and organized. I could pay someone to clean for me, but I like having things exactly how I want them. There’s something about ordering the things around you when you’ve lost control of the bigger parts of your life.

I don’t think Tobie is appreciating or noticing the cleanliness of my room. She doesn’t just look sad. She’s looking for something.

“Tobie?”

She jumps, her eyes flying to me. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

She puts her bag on the floor beside the door but shakes her head when I pull out the desk chair for her to sit. “I, uh… wanted to talk about the fake-date agreement.”

My muscles tense up. “Your ex said something.”

“Like what?” She scrunches her nose.

“He wants you back.” I regret not saying something sooner, and now it’s too late.

We all agreed to go slow with Tobie and let her figure out what she wants rather than have her think we’re railroading her into a relationship she might not want.

She seems to like all of us, which is a good thing—the best thing any of us could have hoped for. But she’s not saying that she wants this relationship to continue.

Now the ex has cornered her again, the way Caleb said he’d cornered her before, and convinced Tobie to take him back. That’s why she’s not sitting down. She’s here to tell me it’s over.

“Oh no.” She looks around my room. “Nothing like that.”

My shoulders relax, but the same rage flares up when I remember her telling me that her ex made her feel like an old slipper.

Her tone is dismissive as if he couldn’t possibly want her.

I’m not sure why it pisses me off that she doesn’t see how incredible she is.

“Tobie,” I snap.

She gulps. “Yeah?”

“Sit down for a second.”

Slowly, she retreats and perches on the edge of my bed.

I drop into a crouch in front of her and wait until she’s met my gaze.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“One day soon, he’s going to realize that he made a big mistake. He will want you back. Do you love him?”

“Um…” She stares at me for a beat. “I was so mad at him when I asked him if he loved me, and he said he didn’t know. How can you not know something that has such a big feeling? But…”

He told her he didn’t know if he loved her?

“You look really pissed,” she says, studying me.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “It’s not at you.”

Her eyes soften, and once again, that same sadness returns. “No one has ever fought my corner the way you, Reid, and Caleb do. You get angrier about the things that hurt me than I do.”

I cradle the back of her head. “Because you’re ours.”

“But not really,” she whispers.

I wish I hadn’t heard those words.

The sadness and the lost look in her eyes in the arena amounts to one thing. “You came here to end things.”

“I’m not enough for you.”

“You are everything to us. Why would you think you weren’t?”

“Maybe now,” she says eventually. “But that won’t always be true.”

I get angry all over again. “Did Marc tell you that?” Distracted by her soft smile, I ask. “What is it?”

“Max wants to kick him down a flight of stairs. I thought she was joking before, but I think she really meant it.”

“After he tried to punch Caleb, he deserves it.”

Her smile fades. “Maybe he does. I’m hopeful about the small things. Like, if I accidentally put a red sock in the laundry, I’m sure all my white clothes won’t come out pink, you know?”

I nod. “And the big things?”

“Well, I always expect the big things to blow up in my face.”

“Why do you think that is?” I ask her quietly.

“Because they always do.”

She told me about her mom’s death. A stomach pain her mom told her not to worry about turned into a late cancer diagnosis that devastated her and her dad. How she nearly gave up going to college to stay close to him. Then her health tanked, and she lost control of the only thing she felt she had any control over—her body.

And now Marc.

“Come here.” I draw her into a hug. “I wish I knew the perfect thing to say, but you taught me the power of a hug and how much it can help.”

She hugs me back.

“This big thing won’t blow up in your face, Tobie.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” I pull back to look at her. “What are your plans for spring break?”

“I’m going home to see my dad.”

“Do you think you can stay for a couple of days?”

“In Lamont?”

I nod. “And when that idiot works out he’s lost the best girl he’ll ever have and comes crawling back to you, can you hold up on taking him back until after? If that’s what you want.”

“You seem really certain it’s a foregone conclusion that Marc will suddenly start seeing me as the best thing ever.”

“You are.”

“I’m not. And if he did, it would only be because of what you did.”

I sit back on my heels. “Because of what I did?”

She gestures to her skirt and the blouse she’s tucked into it. “The clothes and the makeup lessons.”

I stroke my finger along her jaw. “You don’t need all this to be beautiful. If that asshole only sees you when you’re in makeup and a dress, he doesn’t deserve to see you at all.”

She swallows hard, and her eyes glisten. “But this makeover was your idea. You said…”

“You wanted revenge. That’s all this makeover was about. You don’t need all this to capture and hold a man’s attention. You never did. That fool was blind to⁠—”

She throws herself at me, lips fused to mine, arms wound around me.

I tip. We go to the floor, and I do nothing to save myself.

Crack.

Tobie breaks the kiss. “Shit. Are you okay?”

I wince, rubbing my head. “I think I just head-butted my office chair.”

She’s straddling me, her hair loose, looking pretty and concerned. “Oh, do you want me to kiss it better?”

Her sweet offer should not have the effect on me it does.

Dragging her toward me, I forget about my pounding head and deepen the kiss.

I’m busy yanking at Tobie’s clothes as she yanks to get mine off when it hits me that we shouldn’t be doing this on the floor.

Her fingers brush my cock.

I freeze before I can scoop her into my arms and onto the bed.

She’s on her knees between my spread legs. My shirt is open. So is her button-down blouse. I must have hiked her skirt up over her hips and tugged her bra down at some point.

For the longest moment, all I can do is stare at her, struggling to understand how she can’t see how beautiful she is. How could anyone not want her?

“I want to touch.” Her soft whisper makes my cock leap in response.

The breath sticks in my throat. “You can touch anything you like, Gatinha.”

This is new.

I like control. Crave it more in the bedroom than I do on the ice or anywhere else. But seeing Tobie like this, having her set the pace and explore her wants is something I never knew I needed.

I want to give her control over my body, over me. And I have never wanted that before.

Her touch is a little unsure, and I smile encouragingly. “Whatever you do, I will like it.”

“You’ve been with women who⁠—”

I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “This is you, Tobie. It’s you, and it’s me. And I never cared about another woman the way I care about you. This is everything I want. You are everything I need.”

She gives me a searching look like she doesn’t believe me. I hold her gaze and let her see my need for her. The tension relaxes, and she carefully draws my zipper down.

I keep my eyes on her face as she brushes the tip of my cock. “Keep going. Explore.”

Her touch is light at first as she strokes, then closes her hand around me.

A breath wheezes from my throat. “Don’t be afraid of hurting me. Whatever you want to do to me, I can take it.”

She pumps.

I struggle to breathe, but I never take my eyes off her.

She jumps when I slip my hand between her thighs, nudge her damp panties aside, and slide my finger along her pussy.

She releases a soft breath. “I can’t concentrate when you touch me like that.”

My smile grows. “Then I’m doing something right.”

I brush my thumb against her swollen clit, and she widens her legs automatically.

And I see up her skirt. See everything. Swollen, plump nub, and the pink pussy lips I’m dragging my thumb through.

Shit.

“We need to get up off this floor,” I say, my eyes on her pussy and damp inner thighs.

She doesn’t respond.

My eyes flick to hers.

She has her head back, breathing hard, one hand cupping and squeezing her right breast as she rocks her hips in time to my caress. She has her other hand tight around my cock.

And it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

I touch her again, stroking her until she scoots closer. My dick bumps her bare hip, leaving a smear of precum on her skin. I need to be inside her soon.

She pumps my cock as my eyes return to my fingers between her thighs, brushing her clit as she makes soft sounds of pleasure and leans into my touch.

We’re working at the same rhythm. She’s stroking me as I slide my finger deeper. Is she imagining it’s my cock sliding inside her?

I fucking hope she is.

When her breathing changes, I increase the pace as I finger fuck her.

“No. I need to feel you inside me,” she whimpers. “Please, Javier. I need you now.”

I yank my hand from between her thighs and gather her up, dragging her skirt down her legs and ripping my clothes off my overheated body as we fall onto the bed. She gets on top to shrug out of her blouse, but she stays there, legs wide, straddling me. She’s looking like she wants to ride me. Whatever she wants is hers.

I’m panting, desperate to give us what we need.

I reach into the drawer for a condom.

There’s nothing there.

I curse.

I drag my pants closer, fumble for my wallet, and empty the thing on the bed.

No condom.

“Javier?” she whispers. “What is it?”

I stare up at her as I try to think.

She’s straddling me, sitting on my belly, and all I need to do is slide her back an inch, and I’d be buried inside her. Fuck. I can’t think what to do.

Where’s the nearest store?

Can I text one of the guys?

Maybe knock on doors in the hallway, hoping someone has a condom?

Do I want them to know I have Tobie naked in my bed?

“Javier?” she moans, her back arching, hands cupping her breasts and squeezing them. “I need you. Please…”

I’m shaking as I tell myself that we could do this, and I’d pull out before I come. But that would be a lie to myself and to her. If I get an inch inside her, I’m not pulling out.

I grasp her hips, holding her where she is so I’m not tempted to push her back and onto me the way I want to.

“We don’t have a condom,” I tell her.

And because we don’t, we shouldn’t be doing this.

She looks down at me, cheeks flushed, nipples pebbled.

“Tobie?” I stare up at her.

“I don’t want to stop.” Her whisper is an electric current shocking my heart.

My fingers flex on her hip, and I stop breathing as she moves. I should be stopping her—stopping myself—but I’m guiding her back as she settles over my cock.

Body trembling, eyes glazed with lust, she rises to her knees and sinks onto me.

We both groan.

Her pussy squeezing me as I push into her is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. She’s tight. Her sex is wet and hot.

“I feel you stretching me,” she moans.

And we’re not using a condom.

“Fuck. I should stop,” I breathe as I stare at my dick impaling her.

She rises before I’ve slid deep and sinks again, taking more of me. My cock is glistening from her body, and I harden as I watch myself slide in and out of her. I’m half buried inside her, her slick heat compressing my cock as her soft whimpers make me throb.

The next time she rocks, I lift my hips as she sinks, drawing her down harder on me.

Before I’ve fully buried myself in her, I’m taking over, rolling her onto her back and spreading her thighs so the next thrust is deeper. My balls slap against her ass as I bottom out in her and then hold myself there for a second, my eyes fixed on the point where we’re joined.

How can she have taken me so deep?

“Javier,” she whimpers, shifting beneath me, “I need you.”

My balls tighten.

As I pick up the pace, the wet sound of sex fills the room. The perfect feel of her pussy, the knowledge that nothing is between us, is making me lose all reason.

I grip her wrists, pinning both over her head as I move, each hard thrust pushing her up the bed as my balls slap under her ass.

She blinks at me, hazel eyes half lidded and so sexy I struggle to focus.

I claim her lips again, her legs wrapping around my waist, back arching as I feel her pussy start to pulse.

I need more from her. Always have. Always will.

I taste her skin. I taste every part of her I can, heat rising from our skin, sweat coating our slick bodies so we squirm together.

She shatters, hips bucking, a strangled moan tearing from her throat as her pussy clenches around me, dragging me into my release.

I pound into her, groaning her name, needing to be just a little deeper. Fuck. My cock jerks. I strain to go further, gripping the tops of her shoulders, shoving her down the bed, and holding her tight against me as I fill her with my cum.

It just keeps going.

I slump over her, careful not to crush her, holding her as my cock continues to jerk, and I soften inside her.

Neither of us moves for several seconds.

“Tobie.” I lift myself off her and lie down beside her, gathering the sheets to cover us.

She’s staring up at the ceiling, and I hate myself for not being strong enough to stop things. “That was probably a mistake,” she says quietly.

“The sex or the⁠—”

“Not the sex,” she says, angling her head toward me. Her expression softens, and she crawls over me. “The sex will never be a mistake. Stop feeling guilty. I practically climbed you like a tree.”

I laugh, squeezing her, not just liking her with each passing day but loving her. “Yes. I suppose you did.”

I run my hand up and down her back as she relaxes. “I’m on birth control, so I think I’m okay, and one of the first things I did after Marc cheated was get myself tested.”

“And one of the first things I did when I realized I was attracted to you was get myself checked out.”

She peers up at me. “Because you wanted to have sex with me?”

“Not just want,” I correct her. “Need.”

“How’s your head?” she asks.

I take her hand when she explores the sore spot with one finger, and I kiss the tip. “What head?”

“Sorry I tackled you,” she apologizes. “You were so nice to me before, listening and hugging me. And I beat you up.”

I chuckle. “You have permission to tackle me whenever you want, Gatinha.”

To my surprise, she scoots up the bed and presses a soft kiss on the bruise. “Next time, I’ll be more careful.”

This woman lights up a part of me I didn’t know was dark.

My heart softens. I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her.

I have studying to do, and it’s too early in the day to be lazing in bed, but I can’t seem to want to move.

“Javier?”

“Gatinha?”

“Have you ever wanted something so badly you’re scared to say what it is in case you don’t get it?”

“Yes.”

She peels her face from my chest and peers down at me. “What did you do about it?”

My smile is mirthless. “Nothing. I’m still trying to decide what to do.”

Hockey or my family.

My gaze sharpens on her. “What is the thing you want?”

She looks away. “I’m too scared to say what it is yet.”

I kiss her forehead. “Maybe we can both learn to be a little braver and say the things we’re too afraid to say.”

She settles against me, her hand on my heart, her breath warm on my throat, and the soft flutter of her lashes on my skin is a comfort unlike any other. “I will try.”

“Me too.”

Chapter 38

Tobie

The next day, I wake up groggy, my breasts tender, and with cramps so bad I never want to move. Then I lift the covers and realize I’ve bled through my panties and into my sheets, and I curse being a woman.

I’m still silently cursing as I change my sheets after I’ve taken my thyroid meds and popped an aspirin.

I glare at my phone when it vibrates.

Whoever it is can wait until I’ve finished fighting with my sheets.

Periods have always been the worst. Stupidly heavy, horribly painful, and requiring a day away from people, or I will kill them.

My phone falls silent.

I return to fighting with my fitted sheet.

Then it starts vibrating again.

Grumbling, I stomp over to my desk and snatch up my phone. “What!”

Silence.

“Is this a bad time?” Reid asks timidly.

I didn’t think hockey players knew how to be timid.

Then I remember. I’m not at practice, and I said I’d be there when Caleb texted me last night. After I practically ran away from him, he probably wondered if I was gone forever.

I hold the phone against my ear as I debate what to say.

Blunt honesty? I’m bleeding from my vagina, and I want to kill everyone. Leave me alone.

Honest but vague? It’s shark week. Could you please give me some space today?

Lie? I have a headache.

“Tobie, what’s wrong?” Reid asks, his voice soft with concern.

My eyes fill with tears, and I sniff.

I don’t want to be left alone. I want someone to hug me and give me chocolate. And also to make my bed because I hate doing the corners on my stupid fitted sheets.

“I’m coming over,” Reid announces.

Because I sniffed?

“I’m okay.” I sigh. “You don’t want to be around me today.”

I consider sitting down, but I know myself. If I don’t finish making my bed now, I won’t once I’ve sat down. I’ll just crawl into my half-made bed and lie there all day.

Maybe even tomorrow.

Or forever.

Depends how bad this period is.

“If you’re sick, I can come over and bring some chicken soup. You’ll throw up after you eat it ’cause I know shit about cooking soup. Or I can pick up a can.”

He draws a reluctant smile from me, despite my shitty mood. “No, that’s okay. It’s not that kind of sick.”

He’s silent for a beat. “Ah. Got it.”

“I better go.” And I hang up before the urge to cry rears its head, or I sit down because the aspirin hasn’t kicked in yet, and my belly is cramping so badly I just want to hug myself.

I put my phone down and return to making my bed, cursing whoever invented fitted sheets and myself for buying them.

Finished with my task, I take a hot shower and change into a clean pair of PJs. No sooner have I crawled under my covers with a hot water bottle than someone is knocking on my door.

No.

If I say nothing, they will go away.

I press my hot water bottle to my cramping belly, close my eyes, and try to sleep.

Knock. Knock.

I peel my eyes open and stare at the ceiling.

“Tobie?”

Reid.

I twist to face the door, surprised. “Please tell me you didn’t bring me soup.”

I don’t want soup. I want a bar of chocolate the size of my head.

“Nope. I come bearing supplies,” Reid calls back.

“We,” Javier corrects him. “We come bearing supplies.”

Oh. He brought Javier with him.

“What kind of supplies?” I ask, hoping desperately—and probably pointlessly—for that chocolate the size of my head.

“It’s hard to explain through a door,” Caleb says.

I blink.

He’s there as well.

Curiosity drives me from my cozy bed like nothing else would have. Setting my hot water bottle down, I put my glasses on and belt on a robe as I walk to the door.

I open it and come face-to-face with three guys in gym wear carrying brown paper bags. Reid has a laptop tucked under his arm.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Girls are once again loitering in my hallway. I can’t say I blame them. They’re in sweats, fresh from practice and radiating health and hotness.

Reid brandishes his laptop. “We brought the movies. It’s probably weird to be watching movies this early, but I downloaded a bunch we can stream.”

He steps around me as I’m still processing what a movie has to do with anything.

“They’re all guaranteed to make you cry your eyes out,” Javier says. “Nessa helped pick out a couple. And snacks.”

I look at Caleb, who lifts his bag with a wry smile. “More snacks. Not sure why we need this much, but Reid insisted. You should start with the ice cream. Reid practically sprinted through the store to get it first, so it’s probably already melting.”

“There was no practically about it,” Javier adds, shaking his head. “We walked into the store. He asked me what flavor you might like, and he was gone.”

Reid is setting up his laptop on my desk. “I didn’t want to forget the most important thing.”

“You act like you have the memory of a goldfish. You nearly knocked an old lady over,” Caleb says, putting his bag down and stripping out of his hoodie. The sight of that tanned skin briefly distracts me, and when he catches me staring, his eyes turn heated, and I look away.

“I saw her,” Reid says defensively.

I get my first glimpse at the movies he and Javier’s sister picked out. Heartbreak. Emotional family reunions. Big weddings. The works. Nothing that any hockey player would have any interest in watching.

Javier and Caleb lay out the snacks, ready for what looks like a day of snacks, ice cream, and a selection of movies that none of them will like, but they thought I would.

I nearly sob when Javier sets down a pint of salted caramel ice cream. Then I see the slab of chocolate, the thing I desperately wanted and didn’t think to ask for. It hits me in the feels, overwhelming me.

My eyes get all misty. That’s a lie. They’ve been misty since the ice cream.

“Sorry we couldn’t come sooner,” Reid says. “Coach was in a pissy mood, and…”

I sniff.

They all stop what they’re doing and twist to face me.

“I’m not going to cry.” Tears fill my eyes, and I drag my sleeve over them to hide the evidence that I’m a big fat liar.

“Come here.” Caleb abandons setting out the snacks to draw me into a hug. I bury my face against his chest and fight back more tears.

The chocolate is what I wanted. A hug is what I needed.

My fingers tighten around the soft cotton of his shirt and I lean into his hug.

When I have a handle on my tears, I lift my head to discover Javier and Reid giving me ‘the look.’

When I had my first period and worked myself up to telling Dad, he looked at me just the same.

Legitimately terrified.

“Should I go to the store?” Dad had asked all those years ago, shifting from foot to foot.

I will love him forever for returning from the store with a brown paper bag full of ten different sanitary pads and tampons, his face bright red. It was important to me, so he made it important to him and asked a random woman in the store which pad or tampon would be best for his daughter’s first period.

That couldn’t have been easy because Dad is… well. There’s a reason he loves his job working from home. Mom was the extrovert in our family. I got my quiet, studiousness from Dad.

“Do you want us to go?” Reid asks once Caleb has released me from a hug I hoped would last forever. “We barged right in here, and you didn’t even⁠—”

“No,” I quietly interrupt. “I didn’t think you would want… well, me.”

Not like this—all scruffy with my hair scraped back in a pony, fluffy pajamas, and no makeup.

“You needed us,” Caleb says quietly, thumbing a tear from my cheek.

“How would you know?” I ask, melting from the softness of his touch.

“Reid said you sounded sad.”

“How did you know to do this?” I motion the movies and the chocolate.

“I have a sister,” Javier says. “And we live on this planet. We know girls have periods.”

Then he offers me the pint of ice cream and a spoon they must have brought with them. Caleb passes me my hot water bottle when the ice cream briefly distracts me from my cramping belly, and we all settle down to watch The Notebook.

Between ice cream, chocolate, and popcorn, I cry.

I cry a lot. But then that was the reason I picked out this movie in the first place.

Then…

“Are you crying?” Caleb demands.

I drag my robe sleeve over my eyes and peek up from my position, ready to kick him out of my room because so what if I’m crying? Wasn’t that the whole point of the movies?

But he’s not looking at me.

“Of course, I’m not crying,” Reid says, sounding outraged. But there is an undeniable huskiness to his voice. “It’s just a chick flick. Why would I cry?”

Caleb leans over.

Reid bats him away with a pillow. “Watch the damn movie.”

“You were. Weren’t you?” Caleb demands.

“It was an emotional moment. I’m not made of stone.”

Heart melting, I crawl over to Reid, climbing right into his lap and kissing his neck. “That’s okay. I cried too.”

Reid makes this rumbling purr of pleasure as he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my hair. “Hmm. You feel good.”

Caleb mutters something suspiciously like he wishes he was crying.

It’s strange to be the center of three men’s worlds because that’s how they make me feel. Like I matter to all of them, even more than hockey, which is unreal.

“You’re smiling,” Javier says, peering into my face.

“I’m happy,” I admit.

On a day I actively wanted to kill someone, I never expected it to end with me this happy.

Chapter 39

Javier

I’m smiling as I return to my dorm until I see the guy standing beside the entrance.

Tobie’s ex. Marc.

He’s nursing a black eye, courtesy of Caleb’s right hook. It’s not like Caleb to go around punching people in the face and it’s not in my nature either. I don’t avoid confrontation, but I don’t run away from it either. If Marc thinks he’ll find an easier fight with me, he’s about to make a big mistake.

Caleb and Reid fell asleep in Tobie’s room. I covered them with the comforter and left to return to my dorm. Some people can sleep sitting up on a floor. I’m not one of those people. Now, I seriously regret my decision to leave. I could have avoided all this if I’d stayed.

“Have you told her yet?” Marc calls out.

“Told who what?” I fish my keycard from my pocket, keeping my tone amiable when I’d like nothing more than to lay the guy out.

He didn’t just cheat on her.

He left her with insecurities she doesn’t even know she has.

Feeling like she isn’t worthy of love and respect.

“Tobie, about the girl you’re fucking.”

“There’s no girl.”

He stares at me, his lips flat. “You jocks are all the same, aren’t you? All fucking whatever girl shows you the first bit of attention.” He steps up to me. “Well, Tobie is mine. She was mine first, and she is still mine.”

“Until you humiliated her and broke her heart,” I say softly, dropping my smile. “Or have you forgotten about that?”

His fists clench as he steps up to me.

“As you were so eager to point out, I’m a lover, not a fighter,” I tell him, smiling slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t put a fool down when he bites off more than he can chew.”

He’s working himself up to throwing his first punch when a familiar voice calls out, “Everything good?”

Marc takes one look at my teammate and does the smart thing by backing up. There’s a reason we call Theo ‘The Animal’ on the ice, and if this guy has been to a game or two, he’d be a fool to do anything but walk away from the six-foot-four defenseman built like a tank.

“This isn’t over,” Marc warns and stalks away.

I watch him for a bit, just to confirm he actually is going before I turn to my teammate. After what he did to Caleb, I’d be a fool to turn my back on him.

Theo glances from Marc to me. “What was that all about?”

I shake my head. “You don’t want to know.”

I’m not sure I know what it was about, other than jealousy. I haven’t so much as looked at another woman since Tobie entered my life. And I won’t. Why would I when Tobie is everything I would ever want or need?

Theo cocks his head, still curious as I open the door, and we head inside the building. It’s evening, so music and the distant sound of a television playing drift from the common room.

He’s on the sixth floor. When we walk back from practice together, he heads for the elevators while I take the stairs for the first. But when he trails me to the staircase, I raise my eyebrow. “Didn’t get enough steps today?”

“Something like that.”

He doesn’t say a word as we walk up the stairs.

“Why do I think there’s something you’re not saying?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond, though he looks deep in thought.

I’m turning to walk away when he says, “How do you do it?”

I angle my head back. “Do what?”

“The girls. It can’t just be because of the accent.”

I smile. “If I were to tell you that, I’d be spilling all my secrets.”

He nods and continues upstairs.

I eye him for a beat.

Keeping secrets from teammates isn’t easy when we’re around each other so much of the time. We train together several times a week, travel for hours on the team bus for away games, and socialize as well, so we’re a stronger, close-knit unit.

It’s how I’ve worked out something that Theo would prefer I didn’t know.

“Have you tried telling her how you feel?”

He takes the next step up, then stops. “It’s not that easy.”

“Well.” I pull open the door for my floor. “You won’t get far with the girl that I’ll pretend not to know if you don’t tell her how you feel.”

I walk to my room and unlock the door. Just before it slams shut behind me, Theo catches it. “You don’t know who it is.”

I toe off my sneakers and face Theo. “Her initials are HS.”

Theo steps inside and pushes the door firmly closed behind him. “How long have you known?”

“That you’ve been making eyes at your best friend’s little sister?” I shrug. “Probably since she walked into the arena in her freshman year and you slammed into the side of the rink.”

He scowls at me. “I was hit.”

“By a Cupid’s arrow. And also, because you weren’t paying attention. You were too busy staring at Hallie, who was too busy making eyes at Coach Conner.” I snort a laugh and shake my head. “It’s like a fucking Shakespeare play.”

I walk over to my mini refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water that I offer Theo. He refuses, and I shut the door, sitting at my desk with the bottle of water I twist open.

He lowers his voice. “Now you understand why I can’t tell her.”

“No, I understand why you’re afraid of telling her. What I don’t understand is the why. She’s an adult. So are you. Just tell her how you feel and take it from there.”

“Sweet won’t be feeling so sweet if he hears I want to fuck his little sister.”

I wince. “Yeah, when you tell him, maybe soften the language a little. That fuck is going to get you a broken nose if you’re lucky. A concussion if you’re not.”

“What’s the point? She hates me.”

“Because you’re nice to every single person except her. It’s a dead giveaway, you know.” I cross my arms and sit back in my seat, resting my feet on the side of my desk. “Reid said there was a girl he liked in fifth grade, and they spent an entire semester being sworn enemies and then dated for five years when they stopped pretending to hate each other.”

“It’s not the same thing. Reid and that girl were into each other. Hallie is into Coach Conner.”

“Have you seen Jase give her a single look back?”

His expression is thoughtful. “No.”

“Which means he’s not into her.” He turns to leave. “Yet.”

He freezes. “What do you mean, yet?”

“Hallie is determined. She knows what she wants. And she’s hot. Sooner rather than later, he’s going to open his eyes, and if you haven’t said how you feel…” I shake my head warningly. “An opportunity is an open window. Windows don’t always stay open. Someone can slam it shut anytime they want.”

Like this thing with Tobie.

Eventually, Marc is going to realize his mistake and grovel. If we haven’t told her that we want this relationship to be permanent, she’ll disappear out of our lives just as quickly as she entered it. It’s something that Caleb, Reid, and I have spent the last few days arguing about.

I want to tell her now.

Caleb is the planner. He wants to wait until spring break when we have time to sit and talk about how this unconventional relationship will work. I get that. There are aspects we do need time to really talk about—namely, our families. None of us have told them about Tobie. I don’t know what Tobie’s dad will think, but from what she’s said, they’re close. If her dad has a problem with our relationship, I can’t see her being happy.

Reid was ready to tell her a week ago, but she was still hurting from her breakup with Marc and wasn’t looking to jump into a relationship straightaway, least of all with three guys.

We’ve all slept with her. We all like her better than we have any other girl, but this relationship is as new to her as it is to us. None of us wants to be the one to fuck things up.

“Tell her, Theo. Sweet will understand it’s more than just wanting to fuck his sister.”

“What makes you think it isn’t?”

“You’ve been blind to the girls trying to catch your eye. It’s like they don’t exist for you. If this were just an itch, you’d have scratched it with some other girl long before now.”

“Do you think Lincoln knows?”

I arch my eyebrow. “Has he punched you in the face recently?”

He scowls at me.

I grin at him. “If you like her, then better you tell him than have him catch you checking her out and think you just want to sleep with her. Right?”

He straightens. “See you at practice tomorrow. Don’t⁠—”

I mime zipping my mouth shut.

“I listen,” I tell him before he can leave.

“What?”

“Women want a lot of things… gifts, compliments, attention, and more. If you show them you know how to listen, the other stuff matters less.”

“That won’t be enough.” His smile is sad. “I know almost everything about her, but none of that matters. She thinks Coach Conner is the only guy who can make her happy. See you around, Casanova.”

“Jay,” I call after him.

He twists to face me, eyes raised.

“Casanova was never really me. I prefer Jay.”

He nods once. “See you around, Jay.”

That’s the thing with teammates who are like family. They don’t need much of an explanation or any if you don’t want to give one. They take you as you are. It’s going to fucking hurt saying goodbye after graduation.

When he leaves, I study my cell phone as I think about time and missed opportunities.

My inheritance changed everything. It opened up much more than a window for me. It opened up the beginning of the life I always wanted.

Pity it’s going to take even more from me than that.

Chapter 40

Tobie

Late one evening, I take a gamble that Caleb will be on the ice days after he, Reid, and Javier brought movies and snacks to my room.

I make my way down the quiet hallway toward the rink.

He’s on the ice, alone, but he’s not slamming pucks into the goal like I thought he would be. He doesn’t even have his stick in his hand. It’s resting on the side of the rink near the entrance closest to me.

He’s standing in the center, staring down at the empty goal, his expression thoughtful.

Maybe now isn’t a good time.

I turn to leave.

“You chasing down your dream yet, Myers?”

I halt at his voice, my fingers inches from the door handle, and turn around to find he’s skated toward me.

“I applied for a master’s in teaching at the University of Michigan.”

I did it last night when I couldn’t sleep. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I furiously typed out my application to the grad school of my dreams in Ann Arbor. I won’t get in, but at least when I get the rejection, I’ll know I aimed for the impossible.

He nods, then cocks his head. “Something is wrong.”

I pick my fingers nervously. “I have to talk to you about something.”

He gives me a probing look, then skates to the side and swaps them for his sneakers in record time. “Come on down.”

I’m already shivering without a coat, and I’m feet away from the ice.

Caleb recognizes this because he points his chin to the left side of the arena. “We’ll take a walk.”

“Okay.”

As we walk, I say none of the things I came here to say.

“What is it, Tobie?” he quietly asks me.

I stop walking, staring straight ahead. “I came to end this fake-date agreement. I know you didn’t, uh, really want to do it at all. But, well, can you tell the others?”

It wouldn’t take much convincing from Reid or Javier to change my mind if they said they wanted it to continue, mostly because I don’t want it to end at all. The way they looked after me when I had my period cemented the decision. For five days, they were so sweet to me. They took it in turns staying over. I felt spoiled. They hugged me constantly, brought me food, and took care of me in a way no one had before.

I’ve fallen for them, and losing them is going to destroy me. I need to walk away now before I fall any deeper.

“Because you still love your ex?”

I shake my head.

I’m not sure what I feel. My feelings haven’t been nearly as raw and painful as I thought they would be when mourning the end of a six-year relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t just Marc who was pulling away from me. Maybe I was pulling away from him as well.

I dart a rapid glance at Caleb when he doesn’t respond.

He’s not looking at me. He has his hands in his pockets as he stares off into the distance.

“I, uh… should probably go and⁠—”

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

His soft question silences me like nothing else could have.

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

We slept together. Twice. Both times were incredible, but I keep thinking that it was just about us having fun the way Max was urging me to.

This agreement always had an end date. Caleb is making it sound as if it doesn’t. Like it’s something that could keep going.

He turns to look at me now. Serious. Focused. Intense. “Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

“Why would you want to? I mean, it worked, right? I got revenge on Marc. Girls aren’t hassling you anymore. It’s over.”

“He begged you to take him back?”

I shake my head. “He won’t. I’m not a girl that guys beg for, Caleb.” I fight to control my tears because this fake relationship feels so real that even the breakup is like someone gutted me.

He cradles my jaw, lifting it slightly because six-foot-four him will always make five-foot-four me feel small in comparison. “Then why do I want to beg you to stay?”

He didn’t just say…

I peek over my shoulder just to make sure.

One corner of his mouth lifts, and it’s so achingly handsome when a guy who hardly ever smiles smiles for you. “Did you just check if I was talking to you?”

“There might have been a girl behind me,” I say defensively. “It could have been one of those cringeworthy moments where you see someone waving, and you wave back even though they don’t look familiar, but they were waving at someone behind you. I wanted to be sure. That’s all.”

His smile turns into a full-bodied grin. It’s so gorgeous I cannot believe he even knows I exist, let alone wants me. “Well, there wasn’t. That actually happened to me before.”

“It did? What did you do?”

“I was so embarrassed I started talking to the guy like I knew him, and I had no fucking clue who he was. He played along, but I could tell he was wondering who the fuck I was.”

I laugh. “No way.”

“Way.” His smile fades.

So does mine.

For the longest second in the world, we just look at each other. I couldn’t break that stare for all the money in the world.

I don’t know who moves first.

Chapter 41

Tobie

Strong, powerful arms wrap around me.

They lift.

I don’t question the voice in my head that tells me to slide my legs around Caleb’s hips.

He releases a soft groan into my mouth as I line up his cock to my core. His hands slip under my skirt, stroking and caressing as his hips rock against mine.

Our mouths are welded together, his tongue in mine. I’m running out of air as I bury my hands in his short, dirty blond hair.

We’re moving.

He tucks the hard ridge of his cock tight against me. He has to feel how wet I’m getting as he rubs against my pussy with each step he takes.

We’re moving faster.

A slap of a hand against a door.

A deeper, hungrier kiss.

A door slams shut, more hurried movements, and then I’m flat on my back as Caleb is fighting with his pants.

We’re in the locker room. I’ve never been in here before, and it is big. The lockers, benches, and showers are on my left. On my right are armchairs and sofas in front of a massive television on the wall.

We’re on a table in between the two spaces.

I have the barest sense of awareness of what’s happened to my skirt, other than the faintest breeze. That is until Caleb’s eyes dip.

He stops yanking at his pants.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. My eyes lower to the bulge in the front of his sweats and then to what’s caught Caleb’s gaze.

I was wearing one of the cute new lacy thongs Clarissa picked out for me.

On the way from the hallway to here, it’s gotten askew.

The front panel twisted to one side, exposing me to his hungry gaze.

Caleb is breathing hard. He hasn’t so much as blinked, he’s that captivated.

The breath sticks in my throat as he grips my legs, yanks me to the edge of the table, and his head swoops.

I bite my lip and tongue, and the moan still works its way out. His tongue is on me, in me, and I can’t get enough of it.

My belly tenses at the hungry sound Caleb makes as he slides his hands down my legs, lifts them, and wraps them around his shoulders. His tongue is unrelenting, licking and fucking me until I’m begging him to never stop.

My fingers tighten in his hair, and I swallow my scream as the wave starts up in my belly and shatters my mind.

Time no longer matters.

I’m fighting for breath when the soft sound of a crinkling foil packet penetrates.

My eyes flutter open.

My hips are on the edge of the table. Legs spread apart. Caleb’s pants are off, and he’s sliding a condom over a cock so thick and heavy it’s curved.

Oh God. I ache with the need to have him inside me.

I swallow hard as my eyes travel up his chiseled chest to rest on his piercing gaze.

“If Coach knew what I’m about to do to you on his table, I’d be off the team so fast my head would spin.”

My stomach twists. Not in fear. Excitement. Maybe Reid was right, and I do have something about sex in public.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t,” I whisper, holding my breath as I desperately hope he will.

He strokes his hands down my sides and cups my breasts. “And not know how these beautiful tits taste? I’m not sure I have the strength to do that, Myers.” His head lowers, and mine falls back as I moan when he closes his mouth around my right breast.

He runs his hands over me like he can’t get enough, exploring every inch of me.

His head lifts. I make a soft sound of complaint, and his lips curve into a brief smile before he turns his attention to my neglected left breast.

I slide my hand down his chest, marveling at his rippling muscles. Every part of him is so strong and hard.

And mine.

My hand closes around him, and he lifts his head, my breast popping from his mouth.

“Fuck.”

I pump. Hard. His hands slash up, pinning my wrists to the table.

His dick surges. One stroke and he’s buried himself to the hilt.

The sound that bleeds from my lips is one I’ve never made before. His eyes are wild as he throbs inside me.

He’s breathing hard, and I’m rocking my hips trying to get him to move, but he’s so big, he’s pinned me to this table with his weight.

“Myers,” he gasps, or maybe it’s more of a grunt. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Any other time, I’d melt, but not now.

“If you don’t fuck me now, I’ll kill you,” I hiss.

The briefest flash of amusement sweeps across his face. Then he gives me what I want. Lips on mine, his cock thrusting deep inside me. In and out. So thick, so perfect, my toes curl.

He pulls out of me with a groan of frustration, then turns me. “On your front, Myers. I need to see your pussy take every inch of my cock.”

Gruff words whispered directly in my ear make me wiggle as I grab onto the edge of the table, bracing myself for what’s coming. Cool air kisses my exposed ass when Caleb shoves my skirt up and panties down. I gasp when he bites down on my lobe. Then he’s straightening, his cock driving into me again in one searing thrust.

Every nerve in my body tightens in pleasure.

His fingers grip my ass, and he hisses, then groans. “Fuck, you are squeezing every inch of me, baby. Taking me so damn well.”

I bite my lip, fighting to hold back more loud moans.

As he pumps, he pushes my thighs closer together so I squeeze even tighter around him. I feel every ridge he works into me.

“How is that?” he groans, voice strained.

“Like I’ll never have enough.”

“You need it harder?”

“Don’t care. Just need you.”

“I think I hear something,” he whispers.

“What?”

“Someone coming.”

I freeze.

He thrusts and says into my ear, “What will they think when they walk in and see the way I have you splayed out on the Coach’s table with my cock in your pussy?”

I tighten around him, whimpering as my excitement builds. “We should stop.”

“Should we?” he whispers.

We totally should.

I know that.

So why am I getting wetter at the thought of someone finding us like this? Why am I pushing back in a silent plea for him to move?

“I hear you,” he whispers into my ear. “I know what you want.”

His next thrust seats him so deep, he’s buried to the hilt. “Maybe they could watch. They can see how wet my cock is when I pull myself out of you.”

“Caleb,” I moan as I wiggle, pushing back as he throbs inside me.

He moves, groaning as he thrusts deep.

It strikes me that whoever it is should have walked in by now. I keep thinking that someone is right there, watching us from the doorway as Caleb rocks the table each time he pounds into me.

Gripping the edge of the table, I choke back the scream while the crescendo builds inside me.

Caleb angles my hips and drags me back onto him. That last meaty slap, that last perfect slide of him tunneling so deep he touches the end of me, explodes my brain.

I shatter.

I’m trembling, muscles weak, so lost to my climax I barely feel his. He slumps over me, and I feel him jerking as he holds me against him and kisses my throat.

We stay like that for seconds, then minutes.

“Shit, I need to pull out and deal with this condom,” he breathes out, arms tightening around me. “But you feel so perfect.”

So he doesn’t move. He blankets me with his body, careful not to crush me. How we’ve not broken this table is a mystery to me. Someone must have reinforced the heck out of it, expecting rough and tumble from hockey players because a guy Caleb’s size should absolutely have flattened it by now.

And he’s still inside me, slowly softening, a warm and comforting presence now rather than arousing. I don’t want to move either, even if someone could walk in at any moment.

Speaking of someone walking in…

I angle my head to meet his satisfied, half-lidded green gaze. “You were lying about someone coming.”

“Yes.” He leans in, kissing me softly. “You knew I was watching you in the study room, and you liked it. Didn’t you?”

“No,” I deny.

His expression doesn’t change.

I look away, my cheeks hot. Maybe I hadn’t actually seen him watching, but I’d felt someone’s eyes on me. And he’d so nearly watched me orgasm when Reid had his face between my thighs and was doing things with his tongue that had me talking gibberish.

I hadn’t wanted to be excited at the thought of him watching when Reid lifted and pounded into me against the wall. Some secret part of me had wanted there to be someone watching.

Not just someone.

Caleb.

“Maybe a little. How did you know?”

“You looked right at me.” He pauses. “Well, right where I was if I hadn’t moved away. And…”

“And?” I prompt.

“You never told Reid to stop what he was doing to you under that table.” His eyes sharpen. “Having me and Javier there seemed to excite you. Maybe as much as me standing on the other side of your bedroom door listening to you come.”

Shit.

“You heard?” I whisper.

“Did you try hard to stay silent?”

Not as hard as I could have.

Something inside me likes the feeling of someone watching.

He kisses me then, recapturing my attention. He strokes the hair back from my face with a tender touch. “We like what we like, Myers. There’s no shame in that.”

I didn’t realize I felt shame until this moment. Sex with Marc was simple. Not terrible. Not life-changing. Just sex.

But I’m learning it can be so much more than that.

It can be hot, exciting, and fun. Things can go wrong, and rather than be embarrassed, I can laugh about them. I find out more about the men I’m falling for each day, and they learn more about me. It’s like opening another window into a person I never knew existed.

“I liked seeing you so close to the edge,” he says, and I feel him start to harden inside me again. “When you said my name in that study room, I couldn’t wait to get back to my dorm.”

He’s still getting harder inside me. “What did you do?” I whisper.

“I was watching you…” He kisses me, easing his hips from mine, and gently slides into me, making me moan. “And I had my fist around my cock because I needed it to be inside you.”

He holds my gaze as we squirm together. His lips capture mine, and we cling. When we move, it’s not hard and fast like before.

Slow.

Deep.

Perfect.

When we fall, it’s like sinking into a cool lake, the perfect comedown from our climax.

Long minutes later, we still haven’t moved from the table.

“What else do you like?” I ask him quietly.

“My kink?” His lips quirk. “Not sure that’s something I want to admit while I’m inside you, or we might never leave. Maybe one day. Come on, let’s get up.”

He refuses to let me do much of anything. He sits me on the edge of the table and gets rid of the condom, then returns with a damp washcloth.

And he holds my gaze, one arm wrapped around my waist as he pushes my skirt over my hips. “I made a real mess of these gorgeous thighs,” he says softly, his eyes flicking down and heating. “You don’t mind me cleaning it up, do you?”

I’d felt his cum slipping down my inner thighs when he pulled out of me. The condom caught most of it, but staying inside me for so long definitely caused some overspill.

He must have seen it, standing behind me with one hand on my ass. He’d made a soft, hungry sound as he pulled free and said, “One day, I’d like to do this without a condom. Nothing between us. Skin on skin. I’d like to see my cum dripping out of you.”

My stomach tightens in memory, and I shiver slightly when he brushes his fingers along my inside knee. “Open,” he softly orders.

I part my thighs far wider than he needs. Approval slashes across his handsome face before he leans in close to kiss me again as he drags the soft cloth over my core and damp inner thighs.

Something tells me I could easily become addicted to Caleb’s brand of aftercare. It’s surprisingly sweet and more arousing than it has a right to be.

I blush to a ridiculous degree and try not to look him in the eye as he takes care of me. He seems to find my excessive blushing amusing. And he seems to have a real problem not kissing me, not that I’m complaining.

I never saw tender when I thought of Caleb Boucher.

The dirty mouth doesn’t surprise me.

But the tenderness? I keep seeing it in him now. And I like it as much as I like hearing him tell me the things he wants to do to me.

As he does up his pants, I clear my throat.

“Uh, Caleb, could you do me a favor, please?”

He pulls on his shirt. “What do you need?”

“I think Javier has my book.” I blush again. “It, uh… has tabs and stuff. I’m too embarrassed to ask for it back. He already caught me going through his bedside table, and I can’t let him catch me again. Do you think you could…” My voice trails off at his sheepish expression. “What? What is it?”

He walks away, unlocks a locker with his name on the front, and swings it open, pulling out a familiar book with hot pink tabs from his gym bag.

I stare at him. “You had it.”

That’s what I get for leaving the thing lying around and blushing whenever I looked at it.

He walks over to me and presses it into my hands. “I saw it on your desk when I came to pick you up for our walk in the park, and I… I took it.”

I take it back. “But why?”

He studies me for a beat. “They do it so effortlessly.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

“Reid and Javier make you happy. It comes so naturally to them. And…”

I desperately want to push him to finish his sentence, but I wait, confused and surprised. Never in a million years would I have believed that Caleb had my smutty book.

He clears his throat and looks me in the eye. “I wanted to know if there was something in this book that could make me do the same for you.”

He waits, shoulders tense, presumably for me to storm out or throw my book at him. But I’m not angry.

“You took my book because you thought there was something in here that could make me happy?”

He nods once, a jerky motion.

“I had fun with you at the park with the kids,” I remind him.

He shrugs, eyes drifting from mine. “Maybe eventually, but you would have preferred to do something other than street hockey. I didn’t realize till after. Then it was too late to do something about it.”

On the ice, he’s a god. Untouchable. Confident. Assured.

But on dry land, he’s human.

Unsure.

Flawed.

Human.

“You’re going to give me a complex, smiling at me like that.”

I stop smiling. “Sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. Just… it’s sweet.”

His eyebrow rises. “I punch your ex in the face, and you call it sweet. I steal your book from your room, and you say the same thing.”

“It’s the reason behind those things that I find sweet. Kinda surprising when I remember you getting ready to crack my head open with a hockey stick.”

That feels like it was a million years ago.

He winces and runs a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah.”

My smile returns.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re soft and squishy inside.”

He dips his head, though not before I spot the red on his cheekbones. “No, I’m not,” he says gruffly.

“You are. You would not have taken this for the reason you did if you weren’t.” I glance at my book. “What did you think?”

“I have more to learn about what women want than I ever knew.”

I struggle to look him in the eye. “You, uh, you know plenty.”

A smile curls his lips. “Come on, Myers. Let’s get out of here.”

“So I can pass you pucks, and you can practice the shot you missed.”

He draws me into a kiss. “So I can get you to your room and show you I was paying attention to those pink tabs.”

“Which particular tab?”

“Page 179,” he says promptly.

I stand up. “I’m ready.”

He laughs. Then he hands me my panties I was about to leave in the middle of the locker room floor because I was not even close to being ready.

Chapter 42

Tobie

Hallie drops into the seat beside mine in the arena. “Caleb looks happy.”

I glance at her, then focus on the men on the ice. “He looks the same as he always does,” I deny.

“Oh, he’s definitely happy.”

I squint at him. “How can you tell?”

He’s serious and focused the way he always is on the ice. Not a hint of a smile to be found anywhere on his gruff exterior.

But he was smiling with me last night.

He laughed when he nearly fell out of my bed and took me with him. And later, after we made another floor bed, I discovered that beneath that serious disposition lies the heart of a serial spooner. And he didn’t just read each page Max helpfully tabbed. He memorized it.

“You’re grinning like an idiot,” Hallie tells me.

“I know.” I’m stupidly happy and can’t help it. “You know, I would have accepted your apology when you said it if you hadn’t rushed off,” I tell her, still watching the practice.

“You’re a better person than I am,” she says softly. “I can hold a grudge like no one’s business.” She bounces her shoulder against mine. “But thanks.”

I nod. “You were looking out for your brother, and…” I’m not sure what compels me to say, “It’s not real. You were right when you said I was a puck bunny. What we’re doing is just pretend.”

Maybe I’m hoping she will chase me from the arena with a hockey stick because I have tried to end things with Javier, Caleb, and Reid, and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to. I have never been happier than when I’m with them. Even my dad has picked up on it.

“I know,” Hallie says.

I snap my head toward Hallie. “You know?”

She smiles as she gets to her feet. “But I think you’re wrong. It looks pretty real to me. See.”

I turn back to the ice.

Caleb isn’t looking gruff or serious. His eyes are soft and warm, and they’re focused on me.

I have a feeling that if someone were to take a picture of me and show it to me, I’d be looking at him the same way.

Coach blows his whistle, and Caleb skates away, breaking eye contact.

I can’t help but notice that Reid is studying Caleb curiously. Javier’s expression is knowing. I haven’t told them about sleeping with Caleb. Since Caleb was nearly late getting to practice because neither of us wanted to get out of bed, it looks like they’ve worked it out.

I keep trying not to think about the future, but I can’t help it.

They’re heading into the NHL after graduation. I don’t know what team or even what city they will go to. If, by some miracle, I get into the grad school of my dreams, we could be on literally opposite sides of the country.

And then what?

How could we get things to work when we might not even be living in the same city?

My phone vibrates, and I answer it with a smile when I see who’s calling. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Junebug. You still coming home for spring break?”

I’ve been Junebug since I tried to take a bite out of one of my dad’s records when I started teething. He’s loved the B-52s longer than I’ve been alive, and “Junebug” is one of his favorite songs.

“Sure thing. I’ll be on campus for the first couple of days, but I’m definitely coming home.” I need to speak to Javier about whatever it was he wanted me to stay on campus for.

To talk about our future?

“Is Marc staying with us or going to be with his family?”

My smile slips off my face.

I haven’t told him we broke up. I kept meaning to tell him, but it never seemed like the perfect time. And I know Dad. He loves me so much. If I told him on the phone, he’d get on the first plane to Pennsylvania and punch Marc in the face for hurting me.

“Junebug?”

I get to my feet.

Javier is frowning at me from the ice. For that matter, so is Reid. And Caleb has stopped listening to whatever his coach was telling him.

I grab my bag and try to give them a reassuring smile as I leave the arena. “It’s just going to be me, Dad,” I tell him as I walk out.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” I smile as I lie. “We can talk when I get home.”

“Or I can get the first plane to Pennsylvania.”

“I’m fine, Dad, and you have to work,” I say a little too loudly, drawing attention from the students I pass on my way to the quad.

“That’s what PTO is for.”

I nearly tell him that paid time off is not for getting on a plane to punch your daughter’s ex-boyfriend in the face, but that really will ensure it happens.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“You think I can’t tell when something is wrong with my little girl?”

And there it is.

The overprotective ‘will do anything and everything to protect his little girl’ dad that I know. Nothing stirs his rage like the thought of me hurting.

I didn’t have cousins like the rest of my school friends. Christmases and Thanksgivings were always small. That was fine when Mom was alive. I didn’t care about having big family get-togethers or anything like that.

I had Mom and Dad, and that was enough.

When Mom died, the house felt empty in a way it never had before. I looked at my dad, and he seemed older. More tired.

I envision him in his garage office, a coffee drop or two on the short-sleeved pale blue shirts he likes to wear, his tortoiseshell glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, and a little more gray in his brown hair and beard than the last time I saw him.

“I’m okay. We’ll talk more when I come home. Have you started dating yet?” I ask, more to throw him off the scent of my breakup than because I believe he’s finally decided to change his ways after eight years of being single.

He chuckles. “Dating? Me? Everything is online now, Junebug. That’s hell for nearsighted people like me.”

I smile into the distance as I near my dorm. “Nancy from the diner always liked you.”

“She likes everyone because it’s her job. I can pick you up from the airport, and we can talk on the drive back.”

He knows something is wrong and that I’m not ready to talk about it yet. And he’s telling me he’s ready to listen whenever I’m ready to talk.

I curl my fingers around my cell as the back of my eyelids prickle. “Sure thing, Dad. I better go. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Back in my room, I wince as I scroll through flight prices on my laptop and mentally curse myself for not buying tickets home before prices doubled.

My phone vibrates across my desk. Caleb.

I answer it, still distracted by my task.

“You left practice in a hurry,” Caleb says.

“My dad called, wanting to know about spring break.” My finger hovers over the buy button.

Caleb’s sigh is barely audible, but I hear it. It sounds like relief. “We thought…”

“You thought what?”

“Nothing. Do you have a dress?” Caleb’s question throws me for two seconds.

I sit back in my desk chair, closing my laptop lid before I can finish buying my plane tickets home. “A dress? For what?”

“Coach told us there’s a party in a downtown hotel. A big sponsor is throwing it, and we’re all the guests of honor.”

“To celebrate the championship?”

“To celebrate themselves, most likely. It’s tomorrow. Are you up for it?”

“Um, that’s really soon.” Too soon to invent a reason to get out of it.

“I know, sorry. I was hoping we could skip it, but the whole team has to show their faces.”

I frown. A frat party is one thing. There are plenty of dark corners to hide in so someone else can be the center of attention. But this? “Which hotel?”

“The Westlake-Carlton.”

I break out in a cold sweat.

A five-star hotel. Literally the best hotel in the city.

“I don’t know about that,” I say, sweating more as I think about it.

“Coach says it’s not an all-night thing. As long as we show our faces and shake hands for pictures, we can leave. And there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

I sit up in my seat. “What?”

“It’s about spring break. And… well, something else.”

“I usually go home for spring break, but Javier asked me to stay on campus for a couple of days. Is it about the same thing?”

“It is.”

“And the something else?”

“The fake-date agreement,” he says.

Does he want it to continue? Is that what this is about?

“If you don’t have a dress, Javier says he can get one for you in a couple of hours. The party isn’t until six tomorrow, but we have to practice late tonight. It’s our last one before spring break, and Coach is determined to kill us.”

I briefly smile. “And Reid’s paper?”

After our all-nighter, he asked his professor a couple of questions and said he could handle the rest on his own. He just needed to read it until he hated it, then he’d know it was good.

I can tell Caleb is smiling when he says, “Submitted it. He’s feeling hopeful, which is something he never thought he would be.”

“That’s good.” My smile fades. “Can’t you tell me that thing now instead of during spring break?”

His silence stretches out so long that I get nervous.

“I could, but it wouldn’t be right to do it any other way than face-to-face.”

Dread forms in my gut. They want to end things with me. I should be glad it’s this way instead of me walking in on them cheating on me like Marc.

I tell myself I’m wrong. Last night with Caleb was amazing, and Javier wouldn’t be offering to send me a dress. They wouldn’t be inviting me to this fancy party at all. But doubt has a way of polluting the things you were so certain about a second before.

“Okay.”

“To the party?”

“Sure.”

“And the dress?”

“Javier will do better than I ever would.”

“I better go. Coach wants me back on the ice.”

“And you’re sure you can’t tell me what this is about now?” I ask, my fingers tightening around the phone.

“It’s a good thing, Tobie,” he says softly. “Well, I hope you think it’s a good thing. Reid, Javier, and I have been talking, and it’s important for all of us.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up.

I stare into space, trying to convince myself that things will be okay. And I can’t even talk to Max about it. I guess I could, but she’s finished with her classes and left to go home for spring break early. There’s no one else’s opinion I would trust other than hers, and this isn’t a conversation I would want to have on the phone. I wish she were here.

When someone knocks on my door two hours later, I’m still at my desk.

I get up to answer the door and can barely see around the large white box someone is holding in their arms.

“Miss Myers?”

“That’s me.”

“If you could sign here?”

I sign where the delivery guy tells me to sign and carry the box into my room, closing the door with my hip.

I set the box on my bed, open it, and want to cry when I take in the most beautiful dress with matching heels and a bag inside it.

Color always scared me.

When you’re a girl with big hips, you quickly learn black can cover a multitude of sins. It becomes a shield.

This dress is a deep, rich, vibrant emerald green, Grecian style with a deep V and braided straps. It’s full-length with a deep slit in the front. Two weeks ago, that slit on the front would have made me want to throw this dress out my window. The heels are gold, platform style with a strap around the ankle and the toes, giving me height with support.

It’s the sort of outfit that belongs on a goddess. Not me.

Definitely not me.

So who is this girl giggling as she eagerly snatches up the dress? Because it sure as hell can’t be me.

Chapter 43

Caleb

“She sounded worried.” I hang up the phone and lower my voice as I return my cell to my locker. We don’t have much of a break. Just thirty minutes, then it’s back on the ice for more drills.

I haven’t been able to look at Coach’s table the same way since I walked into the locker room. I wiped it down before I took Tobie back to her room and showed her I was paying attention to the book with the hot pink tabs.

Every time I glance at the table, I see Tobie on it, her skirt lifted, revealing her gorgeous ass, my cock buried in her pussy, and⁠—

“Because she thinks we might want to end things with her or because she wants to end things with us?” Reid asks, yanking me from thoughts I shouldn’t be having now.

I wasn’t being entirely truthful with Tobie when I said this was something we could only do face-to-face. The truth of the matter is, I’m delaying a conversation we should have days ago. That was when I’d decided I wasn’t letting Tobie go.

Few things scare me.

Tobie walking away is number one on that list.

“No, she wants us,” Javier says. “I’m sure of it.”

We all saw her smile as she answered the call in practice. We all saw her smile slip. And we all watched her rush from the arena.

Javier spoke about missed opportunities when he told us about his run-in with Marc outside the dorm.

None of us has had a relationship like the one we’re about to suggest to Tobie.

But the longer we don’t tell Tobie how we feel, the more chance we’re giving Marc to slip back into her life or for Tobie to decide she doesn’t want us at all.

And she’s applied to grad school.

Tobie is incredible. She’ll get into the University of Michigan. There’s no doubt in my mind.

My dream as always been to play hockey. It’s the same with Reid and Jay. But Tobie has dreams of her own, and I’m determined to make sure they come true for her.

“Do you think she told her dad, and he told her to end things?” I ask.

Reid shakes his head. “He wouldn’t.”

We look at him.

“And how would you know that?” I ask.

“Because he would want her to be happy. Everything she’s told me about her dad makes me think he wouldn’t care who she was with as long as they made her happy.”

I snort as I pick up my water bottle. “Sure thing, Pollyanna.”

“This isn’t just wishful thinking,” he says, surprisingly firmly.

As we return to the ice, I’m still thinking about it.

Yes, we had mind-blowing sex, but is that enough?

“Once we tell her how we feel, she’ll want us,” Reid says.

“Really living up to your name, huh, Pollyanna?” Javier bumps his shoulder.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, and there’s no practice, yet I’m leaning on the wall outside the arena in an empty parking lot, waiting.

A black truck pulls up, parks a few feet away, and the driver cuts the engine and swings open the door.

Christian is smiling as he slams the door shut and approaches, carrying a navy gym bag with Wisconsin Eagles stamped on the outside.

“Don’t you have that big party downtown, brother?” Christian calls out, green eyes sparkling.

Tonight is the party, and next week is spring break.

Tonight is also the night Reid, Javier, and I tell Tobie we want to end this fake-date agreement and make it permanent, before she goes home to see her dad.

Javier had been planning a week in Mexico before Tobie had said she was going home for spring break. If all goes well in the suite Javier booked at the hotel, we can do Mexico after graduation before we start our first NHL season and Tobie starts grad school in the fall.

We’ll have two full days to talk about the future, tell her how we feel about her, and see if she feels the same about us. We can plan the rest of our lives. No practice. No class. No distractions. Just time to figure out what forever will look like for us.

“I do.” The arena is empty today. Even the cleaners have a break. Everyone’s getting ready for the party tonight, as I should be. “How long do you have?”

My brother glances at his watch. “Maybe an hour. Then I have to get back on the road. Mom was disappointed you’re not coming home.”

Guilt spikes in my gut. “Yeah, I can come home after. There’s something I need to do first. You got your skates?”

The only reason Christian was able to swing by so last minute is because he was on his way home from college to see Mom.

He nods. “My coach will come down here and gut you himself if this ends in an injury before the big game.”

I smirk at him. “So will mine. Isn’t Cheryl with you?” There was no sign of her in his truck, but his long-term girlfriend could have followed in her car.

“Not this time,” he says vaguely as he rakes a hand through his blond hair.

I eye him curiously. “Everything good between you two?”

“Best it’s ever been.”

I’ve always gone home for the holidays. Spring breaks are up in the air. It’s fifty-fifty if I go home for those and catch up with my cousins and Christian or stay on campus with Jay. Chris usually stays on campus or goes away with his girlfriend.

I swipe my card to get back into the arena, and Chris follows me in.

“I thought you two did all the holidays together,” I say, leading the way to the perfectly smooth ice and the skates I left beside the entrance.

“We do. If you’re planning on taking me out so the Wolverines can snatch up their first championship…”

I snort a laugh and grab a seat on the bench to put on my skates. “No need to take you out. When we beat you, I want it to be as public as possible.”

He laughs as he pulls his skates from his bag.

We’ve been doing this since we were barely old enough to walk. The first time I got on the ice, I was a baby, and my dad carried me. I think I was three or even four when I got my first ice skates.

“What’s this all about?” he asks as I pass him a stick, and we step on the ice. “We haven’t played in years, and that was street hockey.”

I breathe in the cool, crisp air and, as always, take the first few minutes to appreciate the almost weightlessness and the speed of being on the ice.

“Just thought it was time.”

“Uh-huh.” He cocks his head. “You met someone.”

I frown at him. “What makes you think it’s a girl?”

“Because only girls have the power to upset our worldview so drastically.”

I don’t answer.

Christian doesn’t push. He knows better from having done it time and time again.

We spend the next few minutes just passing the puck back and forth.

“I played street hockey a couple of weeks ago with a group of kids,” I admit.

His head jerks toward me, visibly surprised. “How’d those old bones fare against younger, faster kids?” he asks with a grin.

“Fuck you.” Three years separate us, but it’s forever and always been a running joke to Chris that I’m the old man, and he’s at his prime. “It was fun.”

He gives me another probing look. “Fun?”

It’s been years since I talked about hockey being fun.

How did I not know that until now?

“Fun,” I say again, more firmly.

He looks around, taking in the empty stands and the banners covering the walls. “Just think. Two weeks from now, I’ll be lifting the trophy right here.”

I snort. “Course you will.”

We skate a bit, tussle a little more, and just enjoy the quiet.

“You’re right. I did meet a girl,” I eventually say.

Chris glances at me. “And?”

“She made me realize some things.”

“Like?”

I slam the puck into the goal. “I’ve been afraid I’d turn into Dad.”

“You’re the oldest. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

I glare at him.

He’s too busy whipping around the goal to notice. When he’s back beside me, his expression is thoughtful. “You’re nothing like Dad.”

“And you know this because…”

“You know what it’s like.” We both know what it’s like having a dad as obsessed about something as he was self-destructive.

“He was my hero.”

“He was both our heroes,” he says, looking down. “I guess all kids get to realize their parents are just regular people who fuck up and make mistakes eventually, right?”

“Right.”

We spend another twenty minutes on the ice. I asked him down here, thinking we’d play a quick game, but I’m not in the mood, and Chris is quiet. It’s not awkward or as uncomfortable as I thought, given it’s been weeks since we last talked.

“I gotta go if I want to dodge traffic,” Chris eventually says.

As we step off the ice and sit on the bench to remove our skates, he says, “I’m going to ask Cheryl to marry me.”

“The fuck you are.” I grin at him.

He drags a small black ring box out of his gym bag and flips it open. “See. Got the ring and everything. That’s why she’s not coming home with me for spring break. I want to tell Mom first.”

I look at the pink diamond ring, then I study my little brother and shake my head. “I’m happy for you.”

“She might say no.”

“She’ll say yes. You guys have been together forever.”

They met in the first year of high school, but her family moved away, though they kept in touch. When they went to the same college, they started dating again. I always suspected they’d eventually get married. I just didn’t think my nineteen-year-old brother would be ready to tie the knot so young.

He bends over, carefully tucking the box back in his bag. “I wasn’t going to ask because I thought I’d wind up like Dad, too, for a bit. Then I figure we both saw what it did to Mom, and there’s no way I could ever do that to someone or to my kid, you know?”

I suddenly miss my brother in a way I haven’t in so long. He’s matured much faster than I have over the years.

“Yeah, I think I do know.” I clap his arm. “Congrats, little brother. The engagement will help ease the sting of losing the champs.”

He chuckles as he gets to his feet. “Sure it will. You’ll be best man, right?”

I pull my brother into a bear hug. “Like a fucking champ. Just wait until your stag party. I’ll be tying you to the lamppost in the middle of town butt naked. Cheryl will hate me.”

His body shakes as he laughs. “When do I meet your girl?”

“Soon. We have a lot to talk about first, but soon.”

I wave my brother off, feeling positive about the future—not just about the big game but about Tobie as well.

In my bones, I feel that she wants us. Sure, a relationship with three guys might not be normal, whatever that’s supposed to mean. But it works. I don’t trust anyone else to take care of her or treat her as well as Reid, Javier, and I do. They feel the same way.

I return to the arena and spend the next several minutes taking a shower and putting on my suit for the party tonight. It’s nearly six, and with the time it took Chris to get to Lamont, I wouldn’t have time to change for the party at the dorm. Reid and Javier are picking me up from here so we can get to the hotel together.

Tobie is meeting us at the hotel since she wasn’t interested in having drinks at our dorm with the guys first. When she learned that pretty much the whole team would be there, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what put her off.

She’s not fond of big crowds or parties. Neither am I. I’m just better at hiding it. She was visibly uncomfortable when we went for food with the team after the street hockey game, though she was more relaxed as time went by.

I could have spoken with Chris after spring break or even on the phone, but I needed to do it now. Tobie has opened my eyes to a lot of things I’ve been carrying around for months, if not years. I needed to speak to my brother before the championships. I wanted him to know I missed him. Missed just being hockey buddies before life got complicated, and I forgot the other things in my life that were important.

Like family.

Whatever happens, he’s my brother first, and I love him.

A sound reaches me as I wander the parking lot with my hands stuffed in my pockets, waiting for my ride. I’ve been deep in my thoughts about the future, Tobie, and my brother. Now that I’m paying attention, that sound has been there for a while, and it’s been getting louder.

I twist around, spot the car speeding toward me, and throw myself to the side.

Too late.

My world twists.

Pain floods my body, and tires squeal as I hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

I can’t see the driver.

My vision is turning black when, from a distance, I hear someone calling my name.

Reid.

Hands grip my shoulder, my head.

“Caleb? Shit… Jay, have you got your… where the fuck is… yeah. Outside the arena… a car… didn’t see… No. Caleb. Stay with me. Stay w⁠—”

Chapter 44

Tobie

The Westlake-Carlton Hotel is as intimidating as I thought it would be.

“Ma’am?”

I wrench my gaze from the glass and white marble exterior to smile at the cab driver. “Thanks.”

I hand him money and climb outside, carefully gathering the hem of my dress so I won’t ruin it.

It’s a mild evening that didn’t require a coat. The sky is medium blue with the occasional twinkle of an early star in the sky. I’m earlier than I wanted to be, but I was too afraid I’d be late so I started on my hair and makeup way sooner than I needed to.

I did my makeup slowly, taking my time to get my winged eyeliner perfect, blusher exactly the way the makeup artist at the nice mall had shown me, and a green-gold eyeshadow to match my dress and make my eyes pop.

I have never gotten my makeup this perfect in all the times I’ve tried, and I tried hard, not wanting to look nice for this fancy dinner. I wanted to look perfect for Reid, Caleb, and Javier, who may or may not be getting ready to dump me tonight.

My hair was another big job. I’ve lost a lot of hair over the years because of Hashimoto’s. A lot of it has grown back, but my shoulder-length brown hair is thinner than it used to be. I put curls in around my face and tied the rest up. It’s not over-the-top amazing, but I think it looks elegant.

At six, I was dressed and ready to go.

As I sat around, all I could think about was the talk we’re going to have tonight.

Originally, I was going to meet the guys at their dorm, or they would pick me up at mine, but at the last minute, Caleb had something to do with his brother, and then Javier and Reid were going to have a drink with a couple of guys from the team before the party. At least, I thought it was going to be a couple. Then I learned it was going to be the whole team. And I… chickened out of going.

The restaurant meal ended up being great. Eventually. But with the stress of the talk we’re going to have after this party, a big crowd would only trigger my social anxiety which is not what I needed.

We agreed that I would meet them at the hotel. It’s a decision I regret as I make my way to the hotel’s entrance, smiling nervously at the doorman who opens the door for me.

“Ma’am.” He nods.

I don’t think I’ve ever been ma’amed so much in my life. It must be the fancy dress.

The lobby is white marble and gold, without a doubt the most incredible place I’ve ever been in my life.

The front desk, which looks like a piece of floating white marble, is on my far-right side, with gray chairs facing it for people who are checking into the hotel. Beyond that is a wall of elevators on my left that lead up to the hotel rooms.

A gold plaque points to the ballroom, where the party is happening tonight. Only when Reid, Javier, and Caleb arrive will I go inside. Caleb texted to say I was on the list, so if I wanted to go inside, all I’d need to do was say my name. But there are sponsors and other important people there that I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of.

I slowly pace the lobby, nodding at the suited hockey players and their elegantly dressed girlfriends when they enter the hotel and pass me to get to the ballroom.

And I never stop glancing at the delicate gold clock above the check-in desk.

They said they would be here before seven, and we’d all go in together.

“Are they not here yet?” a female voice calls out.

I twist around to face Hallie, beautiful in a pale pink, off the shoulder silk dress that pairs perfectly with her blonde hair and glowing tan.

“No.” I smile. “Wow, you look amazing.”

“Not half as beautiful as you. I’m dressing to impress,” she announces.

“Good luck with that, Princess.” A dark-haired guy with startling green eyes, pats her head patronizingly as he passes her, and she grits her teeth.

“You realize no girl would ever want anything to do with you, right, Theo?”

He smirks at her. “I’m definitely having better luck with the girls than you’ve had with Coach Conner.”

She rolls her eyes and focuses on me. “Come on in. They can’t be far behind us.”

I shake my head. “I said I’d wait for them here. Thanks.”

I need to look Javier, Caleb, and Reid in the face out here, so I know whatever talk we’re going to have after this party is not going to be bad news.

If they’re tense or distant, I’ll come up with an excuse to slip away and avoid a three-person dumping. These shoes are not designed to stand on for hours, so after the first thirty minutes of pacing the lobby, I sit in one of the boucle chairs near the check-in desk.

At seven thirty, I pull my cell phone from my purse and call Caleb.

It rings out.

I try Javier. Same thing.

And Reid?

This can’t be a good thing when none of them are answering their phones, right?

At eight, I’ve called them three more times each, and I’m debating whether to call them again and hoping it won’t make me look desperate when I spot a cab outside.

That has to be them. Maybe they were in a rush and forgot their phones?

I stuff my phone in my purse and gather the hem of my dress as I get to my feet.

I’m smiling until I see who steps out of the cab.

Not Reid, Caleb, or even Javier.

Marc.

He jogs up the stairs, and the doorman opens the door for him. And he comes to a sudden halt when he spots me.

He still has a black eye from his short-sighted attempt to punch Caleb in the back of the head. It’s not as dark as I thought it would be so he must have applied concealer to hide the worst of it.

Javier said he would find something that made Marc lose the ability to use his words. I hadn’t believed him.

Mission accomplished. Such a dress does exist.

He’s in a tux, but I can’t imagine anyone would have invited him to this event. Not after the way Caleb practically threatened to kill him when he turned up at my dorm to talk to me and wouldn’t leave.

He looks as handsome as he always has, yet I don’t see him the way I used to. Before, a suit would make me weak at the knees. Now, his appearance does nothing for me.

“That dress is…” He shakes his head and approaches. “Beautiful.”

I remember Javier’s words from before. He said if Marc only sees me when I’m in makeup and a dress, he doesn’t deserve to see me at all.

Javier said it’s about the woman, not the dress. That’s what Marc is seeing. He’s not seeing me. He stopped seeing me years ago.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He seems tense but determined. “I came to talk to you.”

I peek over his shoulder. “We can’t talk now. I’m waiting for⁠—”

“The three players who have been using you?”

A flare of anger sparks up in me, surprising me.

I don’t like confrontation, but everyone has their limit, and Marc has pushed and pushed at mine. “I think you should leave.”

A blonde woman at the check-in desk is eyeing us with interest when Marc grips my arm and leads me to the side of the lobby. “This is important, Tobie.”

I try to pull my arm free. “I see, so you weren’t interested in me anymore, but now that Reid, Caleb, and Javier are paying me attention, you want me back?”

He flattens his lips. “It isn’t like that.”

“It feels an awful lot like that to me. Like I’m the last loaf of bread in the store that you didn’t want until someone else put it in their cart and suddenly you want toast.” I cringe. Maybe one day, I’ll get better at this confrontation business because what just came out of my mouth doesn’t make much sense.

“I love you, Tobie.”

I pull on my arm. “No, because if you loved me, you wouldn’t have slept with another girl behind my back. Would you?”

“It was a mistake.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You must love me too. If you didn’t, you would have told your dad we’d broken up, but you didn’t. Because you knew we’d get back together again.”

I stare at him. “You spoke to my dad?”

“He called me asking about spring break.”

“Look, the only reason I didn’t tell him was because he would punch you in the face. Which you probably deserve, but I didn’t want him to get arrested for assaulting a student if he did it on campus.”

More hockey players distract me when they walk into the lobby. They linger for a bit, their gazes lingering for a second too long at Marc’s hand on my arm before they walk into the ballroom.

I slip my arm free in case they get the wrong idea about what’s happening here. “Please leave, Marc. I have to go.”

I hadn’t wanted to enter the party alone, but dealing with my social anxiety alone has to be better than this.

“I’ll prove it,” Marc suddenly says.

“Prove what?”

He fishes his cell phone from his pocket, taps a few buttons, and thrusts it at me.

It’s a picture taken at night. Outside a familiar dorm building, Reynolds Hall. Javier is in boxers, nothing else. And there’s a beautiful woman standing inches away from him. Close. As if they were about to kiss or just had.

“I saw him showing her out of his room at night. Look at them, Tobie. Tell me again they give a damn about you?”

I shake my head as I retreat from a picture that hurts my heart. “That could have been anyone, and it doesn’t mean they slept together.”

“Stop being so naïve. He was fucking some other girl behind your back, and if he was doing it, they all were.”

We hadn’t talked about being exclusive. I thought we were.

The back of my eyelids burn. “I have to go.”

“They don’t care about you, Tobie.” He closes the distance between us as I back away. “If they did, they wouldn’t have left you outside this party. Are they even coming? Have you considered this might be some joke?”

No, I hadn’t considered that. Now all the doubt I’d silenced before floods my mind.

Caleb told me that his coach said they all had to show up for this party, but none of them are here.

"Something might be wrong," I say softly, desperately hoping they have a flat tire and forgot their phones. Something minor that would explain the reason none of them are here. Anything that doesn’t involve them breaking my heart.

“They don’t care about you the way I do, Tobie,” Marc replies, stepping closer to me. “The only thing wrong is that they ditched you after they got what they wanted, just like I warned you they would.”

I shake my head as my eyes continue to burn. “You don’t care about me.”

“Let me prove it.”

My smile is bitter. “And how would you do that?”

My stomach drops as he pulls a small black velvet box from his pocket and does something I never, ever expected he would do.

He goes to his knees in front of me, flipping open the velvet lid to reveal a large diamond ring in a bed of dark blue silk.

“Marry me, Tobie. Be my wife, and I will spend the rest of our lives proving no one can love you the way I can.”

Chapter 45

Javier

“It was that fuckwad.” Reid’s voice is tinged with an unfamiliar hard edge as he prowls all four corners of the hospital waiting room.

I’d slammed on my car brakes as we approached the arena parking lot, narrowly avoiding the insane idiot who’d been driving over sixty in a thirty zone.

Then I’d pulled into the parking lot, seen something on the ground feet from the entrance, and Reid had been out of the car and sprinting toward it.

I hadn’t known it was Caleb.

He got to Caleb before I did, yanking off his suit jacket and covering Caleb with it. I’d been a couple of steps behind him as he’d started yelling at me about my phone while trying to get Caleb to stay conscious.

We’ve all had enough accidents on and off the ice to know you never move someone injured in case you make them worse.

“We don’t know that.” I sit back in the hospital waiting room chair and rake a hand through my hair.

“The prick has had it out for us since Tobie became ours.”

“It could have been an accident,” I say, playing devil’s advocate.

Caleb punching the guy didn’t exactly make them the best of friends.

Reid had laughed and high-fived Caleb when he found out. Caleb had grumbled that he was just looking out for Tobie, but he hadn’t looked too cut up about it. We all remember what Marc said to Tobie at the party about her only being good for a fuck.

Reid looks at me, silently communicating his disbelief.

“Yeah. It was him,” I concede.

There was no reason for anyone to be speeding near the arena.

No one was there. Just Caleb waiting for us to pick him up.

A nurse walks past the waiting room door.

I’m out of my seat, Reid is across the room, and we nearly tackle the poor woman.

“Have you seen our friend?”

“We brought him in, and no one has⁠—”

The nurse lifts both palms, giving us a reassuring smile. “Hold up. No one has come out to speak to you yet?”

We shake our heads.

“Give me a minute. Let me go find the doctor and send him out.”

True to her word, within minutes of her leaving, a doctor, in blue scrubs and a white coat, is walking toward us.

“You’re his friends?”

“Teammates and friends,” Reid says. “We found him on the ground and called an ambulance. The paramedics said we could follow them to the hospital, and a nurse said we should wait here for news, but it’s been hours, and no one has told us anything.”

“Well, your friend is lucky,” the doctor says with a smile.

“He’s okay?” Reid asks.

“It looks like the car clipped him more than hit him. He has a few nasty bruises, a swollen knee from the impact, and a couple of contusions that needed some stitches. He’ll feel like death when he wakes up, but he’s lucky. We usually see a lot worse injuries from car impacts.”

Reid had rambled at the paramedics about a speeding car we’d seen as we were pulling into the parking lot. It sounds like they’d filled the doctor in on what caused his injuries.

“Can we see him?” I step forward.

“Unfortunately, not right now. He’s still unconscious, and we’d like to keep him in overnight just to make sure there’s no internal bleeding or concussion.”

“He’s a hockey player, the captain of our team,” Reid says. “Playing means more to Caleb than anything, and we have the biggest game of our season in a couple of weeks. Do you think he’ll still be able to play?”

“That is more of a question for him and his coach. He’ll be sore and bruised and hurting for the next few days, at least. But before we get to that, we’ll observe him for internal bleeding, make sure there’s nothing else wrong, and go from there,” he says.

We both sag against the nearest wall in relief. He’s okay.

The doctor leaves after he asks us to fill in some information about Caleb.

We look at each other. Things could have been so much worse. If that was Marc driving, and I can’t think it would be anyone else, he could have broken Caleb’s leg or even killed him.

“I’m going to call his mom and brother,” Reid says. “He was⁠—”

I straighten. “Fuck!”

“What?” A line forms between his eyebrows.

“Tobie!” My eyes fly to the clock on the wall.

Eight thirty.

We were supposed to meet Tobie at the hotel lobby two hours ago.

“Have you got your phone?” I ask, frantically patting my pockets.

He shakes his head as he sticks both hands in his pockets. “I think it’s in the car.”

“Shit. Mine too.”

We bolt down the hallway, then stop and look at each other.

“One of us has to stay with him in case he wakes up or something.” Reid says what I’m thinking. “And the hospital needs us to fill out forms for Caleb.”

And Christian, his brother, will want to know what happened. Philly isn’t too far from us. Even if he turned around and came back to Lamont, one of us would still need to stay with Caleb at the hospital.

“I’ll bring up your cell and let you know what happens before I go to the hotel,” I say.

“I could go to the hotel,” Reid offers.

“And if you happen to bump into Marc on your way?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I’ll go. I may lay the guy out if I see him, but I won’t kill him like you will.”

I hurry out of the hospital and to the parking lot, where I dig out my cell phone from the center console of my car. It takes a little longer to find Reid’s. Eventually, I spot it wedged down the side of his seat, where it must have slipped out of his pocket.

We both have three missed calls from Tobie, and it’s a gut punch knowing she was there waiting in the lobby and not able to reach any of us.

A heavy weight presses down on my chest when I call her, and it goes straight to voicemail.

Maybe her battery is dead, but that doesn’t feel like what this is.

Not now.

On my way back inside the hospital, I call Caleb’s brother.

Christian takes the news well, probably because the news is bad but not terrible, promising to turn around and return to Lamont.

Reid is in the waiting room, a metal clipboard and pen beside him. “A nurse wants Caleb’s life story,” he says as I approach.

“I called Chris. He’s on his way back. He’s going to call their mom, so no need to do that.” I hand Reid his cell phone.

“And Tobie?” he asks, face blank.

“Three missed calls. I called her back, but…”

He checks his phone and hits dial. We watch and listen as his call goes straight to voicemail.

“It’s not good,” I add unnecessarily.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” he asks me, fingers tightening around his cell phone and making me think he’s imagining it’s Marc’s throat.

“Yeah.” I nod at the clipboard. “You get busy filling that out and keep trying Tobie. I’ll head to the hotel. Maybe she’s still there.” Unlikely. “Or maybe someone saw her and can tell us how she was.”

“Do you think we made her cry?” Reid does nothing to hide his devastation.

I squeeze his shoulder. “Marc is at fault here. Worrying about anything other than checking she’s okay can wait. I’ll call you later when I know more.”

We say our goodbyes, and I leave the hospital.

I head straight for the Carlton-Westlake.

There’s no sign of Tobie in the lobby. A small group of hotel guests stand near the check-in desk. Trying to get a straight answer out of half-drunk hockey players and their dates is a lesson in frustration.

“Tobie was here,” Hallie says, eyes glazed over. “She was waiting for you.” She blinks. “Wait. Did you just get here?”

“You can’t hold your alcohol for shit, Princess.” Theo ruffles her hair.

She elbows his side and yelps, face twisting in pain. “What the fuck are you made of?”

He smirks down at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I’m dancing,” she suddenly declares.

“He’s not going to say yes,” Theo says with a smirk. “You should give it up and stop embarrassing yourself.”

“Embarrassing myself? Hold this.” She thrusts her glass of champagne at him and stalks toward the dance floor, weaving slightly.

So much for telling her how he feels about her.

I raise my eyebrow at Theo. “I’m going to assume you’re out of practice talking to a woman.”

“Yeah, I know.” He downs the champagne, passes the glass off to me, and follows her.

I shake my head and continue my search.

Tobie was here, waiting in the lobby for all of us, and none of us showed. One of the guys says he saw her talking with a guy in a tux, but didn’t recognize him.

She tried to call us all, more than once, and then what?

Did she go home?

I’m headed for the exit to try her dorm room when I stop.

There’s no one at the front desk now waiting to check in, and there are chairs right there. If Tobie were waiting for a while, she’d have sat down. Maybe someone remembers seeing her.

Thankfully, at least I know what she was wearing.

“Hi.” I greet the woman at the front desk. “I have a question about a woman who was waiting in the lobby. She was wearing a green dress.”

The woman beams at me. “Ah, I do recall seeing her.”

I smile, relieved, until the woman adds, “Are you a friend of the happy couple? I don’t believe anyone took photographs if that’s what you’re here for.”

My smile freezes. “Happy couple?”

She nods. “The proposal.”

There’s no question in my mind what Marc was doing now when he drove his car at Caleb—clearing the way to get to Tobie.

He knocked Caleb down, hoped we would rush to the hospital, and he would have all the time in the world to propose to Tobie.

“Did she say yes?”

“I believe so. They left together,” the woman says, smiling apologetically. “Unfortunately, I must see to a guest.”

I thank her and walk away.

My cell vibrates, and I pull it from my pocket. I don’t know how I feel. Shocked, angry, and numb.

“Caleb’s mom and brother called to say they’re on their way,” Reid says. “Did you find Tobie? I keep getting her voicemail.”

“She was here,” I say, my voice strange.

“What is it?” His voice rises. “Is she hurt? What happened?”

“He proposed to her.”

Reid is silent.

“Marc proposed to Tobie, and she said yes,” I say louder, and it still doesn’t seem real.

“How could you know that?” he snaps.

“Someone at the front desk saw it. They left together.”

Reid is silent for another long moment. “But maybe she didn’t. Maybe he forced her to go with him. And she’s not answering her phone. Maybe she’s in trouble.”

“We knew this would happen,” I say softly.

We all knew it was only a matter of time before Marc realized the error of his ways and went crawling back to her. “We should have told her how we felt before. Now it’s too late. We’ve lost her.”

She’s not going to want to talk to any of us.

In her eyes, we stood her up. She doesn’t know about Caleb. Doesn’t know what Marc did. “I’m going to her dorm to make sure she’s okay.”

“She wouldn’t marry the guy, would she?” Reid asks quietly.

They were together for six years. She must have loved him to be with him so long, and maybe he reminded her of those feelings.

I hang up.

I’m almost at my car when my phone vibrates. I nearly drop it fighting to get it out of my pocket, thinking it’s Tobie.

My jaw tightens when I see who’s calling. Mom. I can’t deal with this now.

I press the answer button. “Mom, this isn’t a good time.”

“I’ve been speaking with Daniela. I don’t understand why you don’t want⁠—”

“Mom, I have to go.”

Her voice is tight. “Practice? Hockey, even during spring break? What is your obsession with⁠—”

“It makes me happy,” I snap, my patience shot. “Maybe I would have been a little more patient if I knew where Tobie was and Caleb wasn’t lying in a hospital bed.”

“Who is Tobie?”

Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

I scrub a hand over my face as I stand outside the hotel. “Ever since I picked up a stick, I knew it was what I wanted to do. It felt like it was the thing I’d been created to do, Mom.”

She’s silent.

“But you had all these big plans for me and Nessa. We were going to make all our cousins and aunties and uncles so proud. We were going to be doctors and lawyers and achieve so much. I learned to shut my mind to the idea hockey would ever be anything more than a hobby, but I can’t do that anymore. I tried, and I tried, and all it did was make me so miserable I dreaded getting up to go to my college lessons. I dreaded picking up the phone when you called because I knew I would have to lie and act like everything was okay when I hated my life.”

“Javier…” She breathes.

“Then Grandpa died, and he said to do what made me happy. Told me not to let my life go the same as his did. He had all that money, but there wasn’t one day that he looked forward to work.” I clear my throat. “Hockey makes me happy. Daniela wanted to be a doctor’s wife more than she wanted to be with me, but I thought you would understand why this is something I need to be happy. If you can’t be happy for me, then I don’t know what else to say. I have to go.”

And I hang up and drive back to the campus.

Whatever happens now with my family, I’ve said it. I’ve dumped all the stuff in my head and heart out, and that’s all I can do.

When I peer up at her window from the quad, the curtains are drawn. And when someone lets me into her building, there’s no sign of Tobie in her dorm.

I knock on her door, and there’s no answer. Then I knock on Max’s door.

She has no love for hockey players, but she must know we care about Tobie.

Max could be with Tobie somewhere, or they could be inside, listening to my knock and refusing to open the door.

I knock a couple more times, wait another five minutes, and leave.

I’ll be back tomorrow.

Until I have seen with my own eyes that Tobie is okay, I will keep coming back.

Chapter 46

Tobie

I’ve been holding everything inside since Marc’s knee hit the white marble lobby, and he slid a diamond ring onto my finger.

He proposed.

The man who cheated on me decided he wanted me back.

A tear drips from my eye. I drag the back of my hand across it the way I have all the others.

I whisper to myself, “Just a little farther.”

We hit a pothole, and I rock in my seat as the driver’s apologetic gaze briefly hooks mine. “Sorry about that. One day, someone will do something about this road.”

I look away, too focused on holding everything in for just a little farther to care about the potholes, my red eyes, and the pain that hasn’t faded for a second.

The echo of Marc’s proposal fills my head to overflowing. I’d burst it like a balloon if it would release the pressure.

“Tobie,” he says, still on his knees, one hand grasping mine. That gigantic diamond glints on my finger. I don’t remember him taking it from the velvet box and putting it on me.

“Say something,” Marc softly orders.

What do you say to a man who was the center of your world for years?

A man who just slipped a ring on your finger, giving you the thing you always thought you wanted?

“I don’t love you anymore.” It’s only when I met Reid, Caleb, and Javier that I realized how hollow the life we shared was.

The corners of his eyes pinch. “Tobie⁠—”

I pull the ring off my finger and offer it to him. “Give this to someone you want to marry, not someone you suddenly want because you can’t have them anymore.”

When he doesn’t take the ring, I drop it and walk away.

He follows me out, the ring in his hand, and it’s clear he doesn’t believe me.

“They don’t love you, Tobie.”

I barely notice the doorman, who swings open the door as I pass him to get outside.

Marc circles my wrist and draws me back, blue eyes pleading with me to reconsider. “But I do.”

I lift my face to him, and I don’t see love in his eyes. I just see a need to win. “Should I marry you because I can’t be with them?”

He doesn’t respond.

I pull my arm from his loose grip and walk down the steps, get the first cab, and turn my cell phone off.

The campus is almost empty of students when the cab parks outside my dorm. I ask the driver to wait ten minutes. Students have already left for spring break, including Max, and I desperately wish she were here.

I keep my head down, slipping off my shoes when I’m inside my dorm and gripping the hem of my dress as I jog up the stairs to get to my room.

I strip and change into sweats. I leave everything on the floor, my focus on stuffing everything I think I might need into my bag.

It doesn’t take me long.

I’m out of my room and sliding into the backseat of the cab ten minutes later.

And at the airport thirty minutes after that.

Now I’m here.

Knock. Knock.

It takes a second for the lights to flicker on. They start from the top and work their way down. So does the soft creak of footsteps on the staircase.

The door swings open.

I take in my dad’s sleep-weary face, and I stop holding everything in.

I burst into tears.

He doesn’t say a word. He just opens his arms wide, drawing me against his chest and giving me all the love I’ve ached for.

That I came home for.

Thirty minutes later, we’re on the couch, and I have a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food in my left hand.

“You want me to kill him?” my dad asks.

It’s not a good idea to eat so much refined sugar. I’m already on a fast track to feeling like garbage tomorrow with the lack of sleep, stress, and now sugar. But it’s ice cream, and Dad knows this is my absolute favorite. He always keeps a tub in the freezer for when I come home.

Some moments require ice cream, and this is one of them.

I dig another chocolate fish from the tub. “No, Dad, I don’t want you to kill him.”

He gives me a probing look. “I’ve been watching Crime Scene Investigation. I had to take a break from the gore after two seasons, but I know enough.”

It’s a lot further than he got with The Walking Dead. Two episodes, and he was done. So was I. I don’t think either of us slept for more than an hour that night.

I’ve tried telling him to stop watching television shows with gore, but for some reason, he keeps going back to them. I don’t think he understands why himself.

A smile pulls on the corner of my lips, and I struggle to flatten it. “Two seasons of CSI does not mean you’ll get away with murder, Dad.”

“No, but the gloves I wear and the DNA I remember to wipe from all surfaces will.”

I lose my battle to contain my smile.

His smile follows a split second later. He wraps his arm around me and drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Stay home for as long as you need, okay, Junebug?”

“Okay, Dad.”

“I’ll burn the body. Maybe even set fire to the building in case I missed any DNA.”

I peer up at him. “Should you be talking about burning bodies with your daughter?”

“Any father would do the same if his little girl came home with a broken heart.”

I believe him.

Other than telling him that Marc cheated and we broke up, I haven’t gotten into the specifics. It hurt when it happened, but that isn’t the reason for my tears or why I came home to Lawrenceburg.

“Sorry I woke you up in the middle of the night. I didn’t realize I forgot my keys until I got in the cab at the airport.”

“You should have called from the airport. I’d have come to get you.”

I sigh, trying not to think about my phone. It’s been off for hours. Something tells me that it’s going to blow up with unread texts, voicemails, and voice notes when I turn it on after running away from my life without a word to anyone.

I focus on my ice cream instead. “From now on, my mode of communication will be by carrier pigeon. We can put a cage in the tree outside my window, and I’ll deliver and receive my messages from there.”

He dips his spoon into my ice cream. “Do you have any clue how much pigeons crap all over the place?”

“Doves then. They’re prettier anyway. Do they shit everywhere as well?”

He raises an eyebrow.

I huff. “Shit is an essential bodily function, not just a curse. And I’m twenty-two. Old enough to be dropping f-bombs if I want.”

“Not under this roof, you’re not, young lady.” He frowns into the ice cream tub. “Did you eat all the fish already?”

“Yes,” I say with no apology.

He kisses the top of my head. “Just this once, I will not complain.”

Smiling, I rest my head on his shoulder.

I woke him in the middle of the night, and he has to be up at six to get ready for work, but he will sit by my side until five if that’s what I need. “Thanks, Dad.”

Chapter 47

Tobie

The first three days of spring break I spend in bed watching movies on my laptop.

I can’t stop shivering, my joints ache, my body is heavy, and no matter how much sleep I have, it never feels like it’s enough.

All I brought with me to Lawrenceburg was my laptop, phone, the important chargers, and, thankfully, my thyroid medication. That’s it. So I also spend those days as a scruffpants, digging into all the sweatpants and PJs I didn’t love enough to bring with me to college.

“You hungry, Junebug?” Dad calls up the stairs, our familiar pattern over the last three days.

I stretch and sit up in bed, telling myself it’s okay that I slept until eleven.

Rest when my body needs it doesn’t make me lazy. I mentally repeat a chant my old therapist taught me soon after my diagnosis.

“Only if you’re making something for yourself.”

“I am.”

I’m not sure I believe him. If I said I was hungry, and Dad had a meeting, he would cancel it to make me food and deny there was any such meeting if I asked about it.

Twenty minutes later, he knocks and walks in with a tray. “An omelet with spinach and feta,” he says. “And juice.”

He made the same omelet the day before—it’s one of my favorites.

“What happened to making yourself food?” I ask as he places the tray in my lap and crosses the room to pull back the drapes and open the window.

“Just decided I wasn’t hungry after all.” He sticks his head out.

“What are you doing?”

“Chasing away any doves you have out there before they make a mess on my car.”

I laugh, and he flashes me a smile on his way to settling on the green velvet armchair I’d snuggle up in on winter nights with a blanket and a book. It sits between two large bookcases bursting at the seams.

My room is exactly how it was when I moved out. The books were too heavy for me to take to college, so I brought a handful of my favorites and bought more in Lamont.

At the bottom of my bed is the knitted throw that belonged to my grandma who passed before I was born. My room is in natural shades of brown, green, and beige. I loved this bedroom before I moved away for college, and I still do.

For the next several minutes, I dig into my savory breakfast as Dad flicks through one of my books.

“We broke up weeks ago,” I tell Dad when I’ve finished eating.

“I guessed as much,” Dad says, returning my book on Greek heroes to the shelf.

“How?”

“Marc told his parents that you were having some problems.”

I smile wryly at him. “Small towns, huh?”

He returns my smile. “Small towns.”

I put my fork down to play with my glass. Dad doesn’t demand to know more or ask.

He just waits.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I was embarrassed,” I admit. “I told myself it was because I didn’t want you to come to Lamont and punch him in the face, but it wasn’t.”

He gets up and crosses over to settle on the bed beside me. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“You and Mom had this amazing relationship, and you weren’t even together a year before you got married. Everyone expected me and Marc to get married and stay together for the next thirty years.”

“What matters is what you want, Junebug, and what makes you happy. Not what Lawrenceburg expects.” He moves my tray to the side table and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “And your mom and I didn’t have a perfect marriage. Our relationship had its dips and peaks, Tobie. Just because you didn’t see those moments doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.”

“I know that. No relationship is perfect.” I shoot him a rapid glance. “And I met someone.”

He aims a smile down at me. “I had an inkling that if it wasn’t Marc making you happy, then someone else must be.”

I hold my breath and then say, “Except it isn’t just someone. It’s three guys.”

He blinks.

“It’s a long story,” I say, watching him closely.

“From the top, Junebug. I’m listening.”

I tell him about catching Marc cheating on our sixth anniversary. Dad is as furious as I thought he would be. He squeezes my arm to comfort me when I tell him about getting locked in the bathroom stall and laughs when I reveal the scare I gave the Magic Three. He’s surprised, then pleased when he learns about how Reid, Caleb, and Javier looked out for me, protected me, and made me laugh more than Marc ever did.

I tell him all about a fake relationship that I entered into to get revenge on Marc for hurting me, which turned into something I never expected.

I don’t tell him about all the sex. There are some things Dad needs to know and others that will give him a coronary.

“So you love these guys?”

“I don’t know.”

He raises an eyebrow.

I nod, acknowledging something I haven’t wanted to admit to myself. “What if they hurt me like Marc did, or I lose them the way you lost Mom?”

“Junebug…”

“I know I shouldn’t be afraid to love and that it’s better to have loved and lost and all those other sayings from fortune cookies. But when it’s happening to you, it’s not as easy to shrug off.”

“Have you told them how you feel?”

I sigh and shake my head. “That would be too reasonable, Dad. I just turned my phone off and ran back home like an idiot instead of confronting them about the things Marc said at the hotel.”

“Not like an idiot.” He kisses my hair. “Like someone afraid of being hurt.”

The next day, I’m out of bed, driving my dad’s car into town and sinking back into the familiarity of small-town life.

I go to the grocery store with Dad, laugh with the clerks I’ve known all my life, catch up on all the gossip, and remember why I love the town and why I wanted to leave it.

It feels too small for me, like it’s squeezing me and has for years.

In the afternoon, I turn my phone on to discover that I have so many texts and missed calls from Caleb, Reid, and Javier it’s overwhelming.

I reply to a couple of text messages from Max, who missed all the excitement. I’m not brave enough to even read the messages, never mind listening to the voicemails from Caleb, Reid, and Javier.

Instead, I boot up my laptop, click the logo for my email, spot one I wasn’t expecting, and automatically click on it.

Dear Miss Myers,

We are delighted to⁠—

I slam the laptop lid and bolt out of the room, nearly falling down the stairs as I sprint for the garage.

Dad has always worked in there because he likes to leave the garage door up. He says it feels like he’s working outside rather than being trapped in his office all day.

I burst into the garage while Dad is standing at the entrance, one hand in his pocket, and the other holding his cell phone to his ear.

I throw myself at him, sending him rocking. “I read the first line, but I couldn’t read the rest in case it was a trick,” I blurt out so fast it would be a mystery if he understood a word I just said.

He apologizes to the person on the other end of the line, telling them he’ll call back, and hangs up. “From the top, Junebug.”

“The college. The master’s. I applied, and I knew they would say no because what do I have to offer? They probably have students who already did a teaching degree.”

A couple of nights ago, when Dad was watching CSI through a gap between his fingers, and I was telling him when the gory parts were over, I finally opened up about my dream job.

A smile blooms on his face. “They accepted you.”

“But maybe they didn’t. The first line said they were delighted. What if they are delighted to tell me that I came so close and they will think of me if a student drops out? Like I’m wait-listed or something?”

His eyebrow rises.

I wring my fingers. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m scared to…” Hope. “Can you read it for me in case it’s bad? I’ll know from your face if it’s terrible, so you won’t need to tell me.”

“It won’t be terrible, Junebug, but go on. Get your laptop.”

I get my laptop and place it on his desk, unlocking it without looking at the screen, which makes him smile. And I perch on the very edge of the La-Z-Boy opposite his desk, chewing on my thumbnail with my eyes glued to his face.

He wears his heart and soul on his sleeve. Mom said it’s why they were planning their wedding three months after they met. Everyone said they wouldn’t last. That nothing good could come from getting married when you barely know each other. Twenty years later, they were the happily married couple everyone wanted to be.

Because he’s so easy to read, I feel like I’m reading the email just by watching him.

When he flicks his eyes up to me, I’m the one who says, “I got in.”

After I’ve stopped crying and laughing, Dad takes me out to dinner to celebrate.

When you live in a small town, news travels fast. Dinner is on the house, and everyone is congratulating me before I’ve walked through the restaurant door because Dad told our neighbor who was out mowing his lawn.

Accepting the grad school offer from the college of my dreams is bittersweet.

If Marc hadn’t cheated, I wouldn’t have done it. I’d have gone along with what he wanted, wound up in a career that might have been okay, but I’d have always wanted something more.

I was always so scared of failing that I never let myself imagine what if I succeed?

The campus is quiet when I return to Lamont after five days with Dad. As I make my way up to my room, I don’t bump into anyone.

Like the coward I am, I still have a million texts and voicemails from Caleb, Reid, and Javier, clogging up my phone that I haven’t read, listened to, or responded to.

I wanted to look them in the eye and ask them if they were seeing other girls behind my back. Not because I like confrontation. I don’t. Never will. I’m absolutely sure about that. But I love them, and some things you do face-to-face, and this feels important enough to be one of those things.

So I’m scared—fucking terrified—but I’ll do it. And if they have been screwing behind my back, the least they deserve is a kick down the nearest staircase.

I’ll crawl into a sleeping bag and cry after that.

Chapter 48

Reid

I’m on my way to the arena to skate out my frustrations.

As usual, I glance toward Tobie’s dorm as I cut across the quad.

I jerk to a stop.

Tobie is back!

We’ve all been taking it in turns—at least Javier and me, with Caleb out of commission—to swing by her room and knock on her door.

No one has seen her.

Her friend, Max, like most students, must have gone away for spring break because she’s not been answering her door either.

And Tobie’s curtains have remained drawn.

Except now.

Now they’re open.

I jog toward her dorm, fumbling in my pocket for my cell to call Javier.

The door swings open, and Tobie steps out.

Tobie spots me and halts.

She jumps when the door slams shut behind her, yet at no point does she take her eyes off me as I approach.

She’s in sweats and a hoodie, wearing her thin gold-framed glasses and not a scrap of makeup on her face. No woman has ever looked so beautiful.

And when my eyes flick to her left hand, her finger is bare.

Does that mean what I think it means?

“Tobie!” I hurry toward her.

Before I can close the distance, she retreats, her hand coming up between us. Doing something I never thought she would ever do—keeping me at a distance.

We’ve spent most of this semester falling for each other, and it fucking hurts that she’s shutting me down.

“You’re back,” I say, taking a small step back.

If she needs distance, it’s hers.

Whatever she needs.

“I came back a couple of hours ago,” she says.

“With Marc?”

He’s been missing in action as well. Not sure if he went away for spring break, but none of us have seen him on campus, and that isn’t because of a lack of trying.

I’ve been actively looking, even though I told Jay I wouldn’t. It’s not a good idea with how badly I want to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze.

She shakes her head. “I was with my dad.”

I stare at her, struggling to believe she’s here.

She opens her mouth, probably to tell me to leave her alone.

Fuck it.

I take a step forward. “I told myself I’d keep my distance and give you space, and I will, but you can’t marry that prick. He ran Caleb over, and he never made you happy.”

She blinks.

“That’s what I wanted to say.” I back up a step. “And, I know we weren’t there when you needed us, but Caleb was in the hospital, and⁠—”

I grunt, staggering back a step when Tobie flings herself at me.

Her fists grip the front of my shirt, and her eyes are wide. “What did you say?”

“Your ex is a prick who⁠—”

She shakes her head. “The part with Caleb and the hospital.”

I cover her hands with mine. “Caleb was at the arena with his brother. We went to get him, Javier and me, so we could meet you at the hotel, but then someone hit him with a car. We took him to the hospital, and we…”

Now the part that I don’t want to say.

“You what?” she whispers, face white, getting whiter with each passing word.

“We didn’t think about you waiting until it was hours too late. Javier went to the hotel, and someone at the check-in desk said Marc proposed, and you said yes.”

She’s breathing hard as she stares up at me.

I clear my throat and keep going. “Then we couldn’t find you. Your phone was off, and I hoped you weren’t blocking us, even though Jay and Caleb said you probably were. And I tried to find Marc to kill him. Yes, I know it’s not a good idea, but I⁠—”

“Is he still in the hospital? Is he okay?” Her fingers tighten around my shirt, and I wince when she tweaks a nipple. Her grip loosens slightly. I don’t care. I’m not into nipple action, and that fucking hurt, but if she wants to do it again, I won’t complain. Her hands on me is her hands on me.

“Who?”

“Caleb.”

I shake my head. “No. Back in his dorm. He⁠—”

She releases me and dashes off.

I’m calling after her when she stops, sprints back to me, and grips my shirt again, pulling me down. “Javier? Is he⁠—”

“He’s okay,” I tell her, hoping this means what I think it means.

Her grip loosens slightly. “And your paper. How’d you do?”

She wouldn’t be asking if she hated me, right?

“Aced it.”

She hugs me, long and deep. “I knew you would. I’m so proud of you.”

Her hair smells like jasmine and I drag a deep breath into my lungs, holding it in.

As I give her a gentle squeeze, I tell myself this is all good. A hug means she’s not marrying that prick, doesn’t it? I have to know for sure. Is this a sympathy hug or something more? “Uh, Tobie?”

“Yeah?” Her warm breath brushes my neck, and I instinctively tighten my hold on her.

“Does this mean you forgive us for the thing with the party?”

“No.”

I flinch, and I fight not to grab onto her and keep her in my arms when she pulls away to meet my gaze. “I have a feeling I know who was responsible for you not being at the party. Marc had a picture on his phone. He said Javier was cheating, and you probably all were.”

“That fucking little shit,” I snarl. “I need to fucking end him.”

“Reid?” Her soft voice returns me to my senses.

“Sorry.” I think about everything that’s happened, and it’s pretty easy to connect the dots. “Daniela, his ex, showed up one night, knocking on his door. He marched her out of our dorm and told her to forget his number. She’s been⁠—”

“I believe you,” she says.

I blink. “You do?”

“Javier told me about her already, and I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out myself.” She nods. “He set it all up. That’s why he didn’t show me that picture on his phone until just before he proposed.”

“And you said no?” I hold my breath.

She frames my face. “I need to check on Caleb, or I’d stay and talk longer, but I love you. I could never marry Marc because I love you. And Javier and Caleb. Which, I know it sounds crazy, and somehow my dad understands that⁠—”

“You told your dad about us?” I ask softly.

“I love him, and I love you. How could I not?”

“And he doesn’t want to castrate us?”

“No. He’s happy for me.” She clears her throat, blushing. “Obviously, I didn’t tell him about the sex.”

I grin at her. “Yeah, I was kinda hoping that would be between us.”

“I have to check on Caleb.”

If Caleb and Javier didn’t need to see her as much as I do, I’d say fuck them and drag her into my arms again. But she’s ours. Not just mine. Ours. And we’ve all been hurting and missing her as badly as each other. They need to see her too.

She gives me a quick kiss, and I press my keycard into her hand.

“Thanks!” she calls out, waving at me as she sprints away toward Reynolds Hall.

She yells at people to move, and they scatter because it looks to them like it does to me—she’s ready to go through them if they don’t get out of her way.

And I stand there. A slow smile stretches across my lips because I know what this is.

We have our girl back.

“Yes!” I punch my fist into the sky.

People glance at me. I ignore them.

Who the fuck cares what they think? We have our girl back.

Chapter 49

Caleb

The banging at my door starts two seconds after my ass hits my mattress.

It’s soft. Every part of me is sore, bruised, and aching, so anyone wanting me to move from somewhere soft is asking to die.

I glare at the door and the person I want to murder on the other side of it. “Go away!”

They bang harder.

It’s supposed to be spring break. All students everywhere should be drowning themselves in tequila on a beach in Florida—not bothering me.

Bang. Bang.

“For fuck’s sake.” I slam my glass of water on my bedside table, wincing as I lever myself up, grumbling and cursing under my breath on my slow hobble to the door.

I wrench the door open. “I told you to… Tobie!”

She’s breathing hard, hair windblown, glasses askew.

But she’s here.

Right-fucking-here.

Her eyes search me, and they linger on every bruise and cut on me. There’s a lot of them.

When her eyes swim with tears, there’s no guessing what she thinks.

“This wasn’t your fault,” I say. Too late. The first fat tear is rolling down her cheek.

“It was…” she sobs, hands covering her face, “… I’m so sorry you nearly died because of me.”

I’ve been hurting for the last five days.

The only time I stop hurting is when I’m asleep.

And now.

Because Tobie is hurting, and I can’t have that. I ignore every ache in my body and step forward, scoop her into my arms, and wince as I pull on a cut.

“Caleb!” She yanks her palms from her face. “You nearly died. Put me down.”

I kick the door closed, failing to hide a wince which Tobie spots and wiggles to get down.

I clamp my arms tighter around her and walk over to my bed, set her down on it, and follow her down.

“Are you okay?” she whispers.

“Fine.” My muscles are trembling, and I’m stupidly out of breath for five steps to the door and five steps back.

She peers down at me, teeth worrying her lip. “I shouldn’t have come.”

She moves to get up. I grasp her arm and nudge her back. “This is not your fault. If you get up, you’ll force me to get back up. Tell me where you’ve been.”

“With my dad.”

“In Nebraska?”

She nods.

I study her as she looks down at me. When a lock of hair falls from her scrunchie, I can’t stop myself from tucking the hair behind her ear. “I thought I lost you. We all did.”

She lowers her gaze. “I should have been the one in the hospital. I know you said it wasn’t my fault, but it was.”

“Tobie, it was⁠—”

She jerks her head up, hazel eyes spitting with fury. “If I’d just kicked him down the nearest flight of stairs, none of this would have happened.”

My mouth snaps shut.

Her head drops again, and a second later, lifts a couple of inches as she peeks at me from beneath her lashes. “What?”

“That, uh, wasn’t what I thought you were going to say,” I admit, swallowing my smile. “You’re more bloodthirsty than I thought.”

“Thanks. Can I get you something? Like…” Her eyes dart from me to the bedside table and my desk. “A plaster or a bandage or something. Maybe soup?”

I stop swallowing my smile.

“What is it?” she asks.

I point to the case of chicken soup on the floor beside my door. Twenty-four cans, and I am not prepared to eat a single one of them.

Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “I bet I can guess who’s responsible for that.”

“If Reid isn’t doing something to help someone, he starts to go crazy.”

“Like nearly knocking old ladies over in a sprint to get me ice cream?”

“Like that.”

“Why a case?”

I point to the three cans of soup on my desk. “He started bringing one can a day, pissing me off by making me get up and hobble to the door. After the third day, I snapped at him to just bring a case and be done with it.” A smile transforms her face, and I feel an answering one on mine. “I should have known better than to say something like that.”

“But you haven’t been eating it.”

“And I won’t.” I shake my head, eyes caught on her beautiful smile. “Hate soup.”

“But why didn’t⁠—”

“He needed to do something to feel useful. Usually, I offload the cans onto someone else when I get sick, so he never needs to know. With everyone away for spring break…”

“Means no one to offload it to.” Her smile widens. “You’re softer and squishier than Reid.”

I grumble, curling my fingers in her hair and tugging. “No, I’m not. Come here. I need to hold you.”

Her smile stretches across my neck as I wrap my arms around her.

“Reid said Javier paid for his brother’s hospital treatment before. Javier hasn’t been trying to buy you a hospital, has he?”

I stroke my hand up and down her back. “Funny you should say that.”

Her head lifts.

She gives me a searching look and smiles. “You’re joking.”

I pull her back down. “Only a little. He’s been as generous with his money as he is with his time. Trying to get him to leave me alone has been impossible.”

“Is that what you really want? To be left alone?”

No.

I didn’t want anyone to fuss over me, which is how I made my mom cry when I told her Chris could go back to his girlfriend, and I wanted to stay on campus instead of going home with her. I hadn’t meant to make her cry, but I needed to be here in case Tobie turned up, and Mom would be checking on me every hour if I went home.

But that isn’t the only reason I stayed.

“They need me as much as I need them.” I kiss the top of her head. “As much as we need you.”

For several seconds, I simply enjoy having her in my arms. “Jay said Marc proposed.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“I take it from the lack of a ring on your hand that you said no.”

“He knows I want to get married and have kids. He was offering me the thing he knew I always wanted.”

My arms tighten around her. I’ve always wanted kids one day. Reid and Javier want the same, but we can’t all marry Tobie, and I have no idea how we would decide who does.

“But?”

She lifts her head and peers down at me. “Marriage is a commitment that I can take or leave. What I want, what I truly want, is love. And maybe kids one day. I don’t care if the kids are adopted or if I have them. I just want to give a kid all the love my mom and dad gave me.”

“You do?”

“But not with Marc. With you, Reid, and Javier. I was so scared I would lose you that I ran away to Nebraska.” She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. I lift my hand to thumb it away. “He said you were all cheating on me, and he had a picture on his phone of a girl outside Javier’s dorm⁠—”

I frown. “We would never do that to you, Tobie.”

“I know. Reid already explained about Daniela. If I’d talked with you instead of running off, we’d have cleared this up days ago, and Reid wouldn’t be out prowling the campus looking to kill Marc.”

A smile twitches my lips. “He told you that?”

She nods, and she hesitates for a beat, chewing her lip.

“What is it?”

“I got into grad school.”

I grin at her, so proud of her that I give her a squeeze. “Knew you would.”

“No, you didn’t,” she denies.

“Yes,” I tell her firmly. “I did. You’re going to be the best damn teacher the world has ever seen.”

Her eyes get glassy. “No, I’m not.”

“You are.” I kiss her.

“But you’re going into the NHL,” she tells me. “We probably won’t be in the same city.”

“If we have to do long-distance while you’re in grad school, then we do long-distance. This is your dream, Myers. You chase those down, and we support each other’s dreams. Always. Jay and Reid feel the same way.”

“You say that like we’re a team.”

“Because we are. Come here. You haven’t been in my arms nearly long enough for me to want to let you go.”

“How long is long enough?”

I breathe in the floral scent of her hair as I close my eyes. “I’ll let you know when it happens.”

Chapter 50

Tobie

A soft kiss wakes me, and I’m smiling before I’ve opened my eyes.

Caleb breaks the kiss, resting his elbow beside my head as he peers down at me. The light in the room has changed, and I have no awareness of how much time has passed.

“I fell asleep,” I whisper.

“Me too.” He kisses me. “And I should have let you sleep, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

I slide my arms around his shoulders. “I don’t mind.”

He stops kissing me long enough to pull his shirt over his head. As he tosses it to the floor, he winces.

I sit up, alarmed. “Stop.”

He frowns. “Tobie?”

“You’re hurt.” I rest my palms flat on his chest and push him onto the pillows. “You should be resting. Don’t move.”

“And what will you be doing while I’m resting?”

I grip my hoodie, pulling it and the shirt I have on underneath off, throwing both to the floor. “I’m sure I can think of a way to pass the time.”

His face goes blank.

His phone vibrates. I grin when he pats at the table in a fruitless search for it because he won’t look away from my bare breasts.

“Do you want me to get that?” I crawl over him, grab the phone, and hand it to him.

His eyes are glued to me.

When he reaches for me, I lean back. “I will drop this phone, and I won’t even care if I crack your screen,” I warn him, which makes him smile. His attention is amazing for my self-confidence, though. I offer him the phone. “Here. It could be important.”

Dragging his hungry gaze from my breasts, he takes the phone, scanning the message on it. The corners of his eyes pinch. “Reid has now stopped prowling for Marc. He’s with Jay at the rink.”

“Are they coming here?”

He shakes his head. “Reid is filling Jay in on what happened.”

I lean in and kiss him, then slide down the bed, grasping the waistband of his shorts.

“Tobie?” His voice is husky.

“Yeah?” I peer up at him innocently, pretending not to notice the bulge inches from my fingers.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Shit. I’m not going to survive this, am I?”

“Oh, I forgot.” I scramble off the bed, toe off my sneakers, and shimmy out of my pants.

He stares at me, standing naked beside him. “Jesus. And you’re expecting me not to move?”

“While I touch you? Yes.”

He covers his face with one hand and releases a resigned sigh. “Do your worst, Myers. I’ll do what I can to survive this.”

Laughing, I climb back onto the bed. I slide his shorts off him, and the need to smile evaporates as I take in all the multicolored bruises, not just on his chest but on his right knee. Shit. It’s black and blue with bruises. No wonder he was yelling at Reid to go away when he was bringing him soup. Putting pressure on it has to be agony.

“It wasn’t your fault, Tobie.”

Caleb’s soft words drag my gaze from his bruised body.

“But your knee.”

“Is still sore,” he admits. “But it is hurting less and less. I’ll be okay.”

“And the game? It’s so important. If Marc has hurt you badly enough that you can’t play, I will literally kill him.” I consider it. “I still might.”

“Not you, too, with the murderous rampage through campus,” he says with a grin.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

His smile warms a part of my heart I didn’t know was cold. “You’re back, Myers. I opened that door, getting ready to unload on whoever was bothering me, and it was you. I’m the happiest goddamn man on the planet.”

I take his hand, kissing it. “What did the doctors say about your knee? Can you still play?”

“There’s no reason I can’t. Nothing is fractured or broken. I have two weeks to rest up, stretch these tight muscles, and get back on the ice. I’ll be fine.” He draws me up to him and kisses me. “Promise.”

I pull away to kiss a bruise on his left shoulder. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” He’s breathless as his eyelids droop.

I move on to the next bruise on his chest, feathering kisses over every mark on him.

I feel Caleb watching me. Occasionally, his fingers brush the ends of my hair and my back.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says softly.

I’ve worked my way down his body until I’m kneeling between his spread thighs at the bottom of the bed. His cock is so heavy and hard it’s curled up on itself. Although his body is bruised and battered, he’s still so beautiful to me.

“I want to know what you like. What do you want, Caleb?”

His cock swells in response to my soft words.

“Because I’m hurt, and you feel guilty for something that wasn’t your fault?”

I shake my head. “Because I love you, and I want to make you feel good.”

He doesn’t speak for the longest time. Then he swallows, and his voice is gruff when he says, “Hands on my thighs. I want to see your trust.”

My belly tightens in anticipation. I press my palms flat on his thighs and lower my head, halting an inch from his cock.

And I lift my gaze to his. “Can I kiss you?”

He releases a choked laugh. “Jesus. Can you…” He shakes his head. “You can do whatever you want to me, Myers, and it would blow my mind.”

Still holding his gaze, I feather a kiss over his tip, then part my mouth and lower my head. He’s big. So big, I don’t know that I can do this without choking. When he groans thickly in response, I stop caring about breathing at all.

“That’s it,” he breathes out, the hand in my hair fisting as I suck him up and down. “That’s my girl giving me exactly what I need.”

His soft praise warms my skin and makes me want to please him even more.

I let him feel the edge of my teeth.

He hisses, his hips jerking and fingers clenching in my hair.

I assume I’ve done something wrong until I flick my eyes up to his. They burn.

“Again,” he groans.

I maintain eye contact as I let him feel a little more of my teeth.

His gaze flits from my eyes to my mouth, a vein in his neck popping out as he watches me. “Fuck. Your mouth…”

I remember the way he was looking at my mouth after Doc gave me a lollipop. I treat Caleb’s cock like it’s my lollipop, licking and sucking, paying careful attention to the tip and the underside. I can’t get enough of him.

I keep my palms flat on his thighs, and his hands in my hair guide me up and down.

“Take a breath,” he groans, lifting my head.

I take a big breath, part my mouth, and he brings me down.

“Hold it,” he gasps, the muscles in his thighs bunching.

I don’t just hold it. I sink farther down on him, and he slides into my throat.

His hips punch up, and he grunts.

He lifts my head, breathing hard. The choked sound when I run the tip of my tongue up and down the underside of his cock warns he’s close.

“Shit, Myers,” he groans, fingers tightening in my hair as he stops me.

I peer up at him through my lashes. “You want me to stop fucking you with my mouth?”

I have never said anything so filthy in my life. Caleb’s cock jerks, and his burning stare confirms this will not be the last time.

“What did you just say to me?” he whispers, chest rising in response to my filth.

“I could repeat it or…” My eyes dip, and I lick my lips.

Groaning, he draws my face down, and I return to licking and sucking as much of him as I can fit into my mouth.

His fingers are flexing in my hair, and his cock throbs as he gently thrusts.

“That’s enough, Myers. I’m going to come.” He pants as precum hits my tongue.

I take another breath and swallow him again, as deep as I can, humming with him in the back of my throat.

A ragged groan falls from his lips, and he angles my head back slightly as he thrusts twice, almost desperately, and his cock jerks as he comes.

I swallow every drop.

He’s still breathing hard when he drags me up the bed and stares down at me. He opens his mouth, but no sound emerges.

“How did I do?” I peer up at him.

He sweeps the hair back from my face. “Before you went rogue? Beautifully.”

“And after?” I peek up through my lashes at him.

He cradles my jaw, his thumb strokes my lip, and his eyes are hungry as he settles his gaze there. “This mouth just became my new addiction.” He pulls me close. “Come here.”

His kiss is a brand—fierce, hungry, and a little tender.

Breaking the kiss, he rests our foreheads together, and his concerned eyes catch mine. “I thought I would hurt you. I didn’t want to grab you and hold you when you might need to breathe.”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

His next kiss is hard, almost bruising. “But I was not thinking straight. You could have choked.”

“You wouldn’t have hurt me, Caleb.”

He looks at me for several seconds, then brushes his fingers along my jaw. “I fell in love with you when you tried to hit a puck and missed. And I knew then I would do anything to convince you to stay.”

I scrunch my nose. “Are you sure that’s when it happened? It was a really bad miss. Kids laughed.”

He tucks me against his side. “I’m sure.”

“I love you, too, Caleb.”

“I’m glad.” His fingers combing through my hair is so relaxing I don’t mean to drift off.

When my eyes flutter open, I’m lying on my front, Caleb tucked behind me with the sheets pulled up to our hips. And then I realize I didn’t wake on my own. Something woke me.

Hot, strong fingers stroke the curve of my hip, and a hard cock brushes my ass.

I wiggle against him.

His hand tightens, stilling me. “I’m barely holding it together, Myers. Stop that.”

I peer over my shoulder at him. “Why?”

His eyes are hungry. “What I want to do, we can’t.”

“Because?”

“I don’t have condoms here.”

“We probably shouldn’t do this, should we?”

We stare at each other, neither of us moving.

I feel him hardening against my ass.

“I haven’t been with anyone for a while,” he says, breathing harder. “Just you, since hockey took over my life. And the last time, I got myself checked out after.”

“I used a condom most of the time with my ex, and I got myself checked out, too,” I say, my breath tripping faster. “But there was that time with Javier.”

“What time with Javier?” he breathes.

“We, uh…” I look away, blushing. “We didn’t have a condom, and we… we did something we shouldn’t have,” I say in a rush.

His cock twitches. “Are you telling me that Jay came inside you?”

“Uh…”

He drags me into his arms, holding me tight. He’s breathing hard, and his cock is twitching against my lower belly. “Shit.”

I recall what he said before in the locker room. “Is that your kink?”

His laugh is rough and a little unsteady. “Not that, Tobie. I can’t say I haven’t been thinking about coming inside you more times than I should.”

I ask myself where we’re going with this conversation, but I think I know.

So does Caleb because he’s drawing me closer, hand stroking over my hip as he slides his cock between my thighs.

I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Caleb.”

“I don’t think I can stop.” He groans against my neck. “So maybe…”

“Maybe?”

He rubs his cock along my pussy, and I part my legs for him.

I don’t want a condom.

I want to know how he feels filling me, jerking inside me, flooding my body with heat, and knowing nothing is between us.

“Fuck,” he groans as he presses me onto the bed and half covers me with his body. “You can’t move on me like that, Myers.”

But I can’t stop.

Maybe I don’t want to.

I spread my legs wider for him.

“I won’t come inside you,” he groans as he presses inward. “Trust that I won’t go that far.”

Just the tip, and I feel myself squeezing around him, trying to hold him there.

He’s tense. Every muscle locked tight. “This isn’t a good idea,” he whispers. “Shit. I don’t think I can stop.”

But even as he speaks, his hips are rocking.

The tip of his cock edges in the tiniest degree and out again.

My belly tingles, and my core pulses with each motion.

His kisses consume me, his hands stroking all over my body, cupping my breasts as he rocks against me.

We’re moving together, slowly at first, then faster, but stopping short of him pushing deep inside me.

We find the perfect rhythm.

The wet sound of sex fills the room as he works his cock through my pussy, and I rock back, my heels in the back of his thighs to keep up our frantic motion.

He lifts the top half of his body from mine, and his fingers strum my clit.

I twist and moan, arching my back. “Oh…”

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts as he strums again. Harder. More insistent. I twist to get away from his touch and to force myself closer.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let go now.”

My release is a white-hot wave that pulls me under.

I’m still falling when he grasps the base of his cock in one large fist and releases a deep groan as he comes over my pussy. Instinctively, I widen my legs, and he groans softly as he hardens his strokes. His eyes don’t move from my core as he pumps twice more.

Then he’s back, gathering me close, his cock continuing to jerk against me as his movements slow.

He claims my lips in a bruising kiss, and I sink into it.

Long minutes later, when our breathing has evened out, I trace his jaw with the tips of my fingers. “Caleb?”

He twists my wrist to press a kiss on my fingers, making me smile. “Myers?”

“The next time we do this, I don’t want a condom, and I want you inside me when you come.”

I’m a people pleaser, a go-along-with-everyone-else sort of person. Always and forever, I thought. But I can’t say there isn’t something incredibly liberating about just saying what I want.

From Caleb’s heated stare, pounding heartbeat, and his cock stirring against my belly, he has no complaints.

“Caleb?” I prompt when he doesn’t respond

“Shh,” he silences me with a kiss. “Give me a second to recover, Myers. This mouth of yours is going to be the death of me.”

“Because of the things I say or do?” I ask innocently.

He groans, and I laugh.

We hold each other for the next several minutes, and I sigh when he moves. “Caleb?” I squeak when he picks me up. “You’re hurt. Put me down.”

“I’m bruised and sore, but that’s not nearly enough to stop me from looking after my woman. I wish I had a bath, but a shower will have to do for now.”

He carries me into his shower, and we spend more time kissing than cleaning each other. When he turns to press my front to the shower wall, I assume I know where things are going.

“Close your eyes and relax,” he says.

I do, and Caleb Boucher washes my hair, and I nearly fall asleep on my feet two seconds into a scalp massage that feels like heaven.

Chapter 51

Tobie

“I’m going to see Javier,” I whisper.

Caleb smiles in his sleep when I kiss him on the cheek and slip out of his bed.

I’m bending to pull on my sweatpants when his fingers circle my wrist, and he tugs.

He kisses me. “Tell Jay I’m sorry for keeping you so long. I know you wanted to see him, and he wants to see you.”

“I will. Love you.”

The corners of his eyes crease. “I love you, Myers.”

I finish dragging my clothes on and slip out of his room. Only to halt when I spot the man in black jeans and a white button-down shirt leaning on the wall opposite, hands stuffed in his pockets. Javier.

His expression is impossible to read. “Hey.”

I think he’s happy to see me, but his dark brown gaze lands on me, then darts away again like a nervous butterfly. “What’s wrong?”

“Reid said you were back,” he says. “He said you would probably come to me yourself, and I told myself to let you do that, but⁠—”

I don’t care if he’s happy to see me. I’m happy to see him.

“I missed you so much.” I walk into arms that open the moment I move toward him. And I breathe in the scent of his skin, my eyes burning as I wrap my arms around him. I don’t know how close I came to losing them all, but it was close. Too close.

“I missed you, too, Gatinha,” he says against my hair, squeezing me tight enough to hurt.

I peer up at him. “I was going to come see you sooner, but I fell asleep in the shower and I have no idea what time it is.”

“Not that late. Around five.” He steps back and takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

I don’t move.

“Tobie?”

Because I’m looking for it, I see it. Guilt. Suddenly, his unreadable expression makes sense. “I just spent God knows how long beating myself up for Caleb winding up in the hospital.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says instantly.

“And me running away wasn’t yours.”

His smile drops. “I should have told you about Daniela turning up. Then it wouldn’t have mattered what picture your ex took. You’d have known why she was here and what she was trying to do.”

“She made the biggest mistake she’s ever made, and she can’t let it go.”

He cradles the side of my face. “And the mistake was?”

“Letting you go. That’s why she keeps coming back, and it’s why she can’t move on with her life.”

“What makes you so sure that’s what it is?”

“I know you, Javier. If I lost you, I’d be kicking the biggest can of regret you’ve ever seen down the street.”

His laugh shakes his entire body, and he hauls me into his arms, giving me a hug so all-encompassing I never want it to end. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I don’t know that I deserve all this love, but I will always be grateful for it.”

“More,” he softly corrects me. “You always deserve more.”

And I ruin the moment by yawning so wide my jaw cracks.

He grins at me, slides his arm around my shoulder, and tucks me against his side. “You should have stayed in bed, Gatinha. Not come to see me.”

I yawn again as he leads me down the hallway. “I wanted to see you. Caleb said sorry for keeping me so long.”

He kisses the top of my hair. “It’s an easy thing to do. Reid said he would swing by his room in a bit and bring him some food. We’ve been keeping an eye on him as much as he’d let us, but he’s never been good at staying still and resting up.”

“More soup?” I grin up at him.

He chuckles and presses the button to call an elevator. “Maybe one day Caleb will tell Reid to quit with the soup. I think he’s afraid of what else Reid will bring him if it’s not soup.”

“Are we going back to my room?” I’d never been to Caleb’s room before, but I was so excited to see him that I didn’t even think of the elevator. I charged up four flights of stairs and nearly died. My poor thighs have never worked so hard.

“Nope. Or mine. We’re going somewhere a little nicer than a dorm room.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re in his car, headed downtown, and he has my hand in his as if he can’t let go of me for a single moment.

Changing gears goes slowly because of it.

“It might be easier if you weren’t holding my hand,” I tell him.

“It would,” he agrees, brushing a kiss across my knuckles. “But then I wouldn’t be holding your hand.”

I smile at him. “What happened when I was gone?”

“To Nebraska?”

“Reid told you?”

“He did. We had a couple of hours on the ice, talking about you and the game.”

“The arena is still open during spring break?”

“Contractors are getting it ready for the big game, and sometimes the team stays on campus so we can use the ice whenever we want.”

“I saw Caleb’s knee,” I tell him quietly. “He said it was healing, but it still looks bad.”

His smile fades. “Yeah.”

“What?” I ask, worried. “Is it Caleb?”

Javier sighs as a red light stops us. “He’s not a hundred percent. He’s resting and getting physio as much as he can, but Coach is thinking of benching him.”

A fist clenches my heart. “But it’s the big game. The one you’ve all been working toward for years. He has to play.”

“If Caleb heard you say that, he’d marry you on the spot, Gatinha.”

My stomach clenches. “Because I don’t mind hockey now?”

He kisses the back of my hand. “Because you understand him and what’s important to him. And you care.”

“Oh.”

The lights change, and we drive on. Downtown Lamont isn’t as hectic as it usually is. With most of the university emptied out for spring break, there are thousands fewer people in town than usual.

“What about you? Is your family coming to the game?”

He pulls to a stop outside a glass and stainless-steel hotel that stretches into the sky.

“I don’t know, Tobie. Nessa has been trying to convince our parents, but they’re stubborn. I finally told them how I felt about hockey and how much it means to me.”

“And?”

His smile is sad. “Nothing. I’ve heard nothing from them. I made my choice, and I guess it was the wrong one for them. Who knows when or even if I’ll ever see them again?”

“I could get Nessa if your parents agreed,” I offer. “You said they wouldn’t want her sitting alone, and she wouldn’t be if I went to Boston to bring her here. I would be with her.”

He tugs on my hand. “Come here, Gatinha.”

Confused, I unsnap my seat belt, and he urges me into his lap so I’m straddling him. A valet is standing literally right outside his window, but Javier neither seems to notice nor care.

“For that,” he says softly, leaning in to kiss me, “I would marry you on the spot.”

My eyes widen. “You don’t mean that.”

“There are fewer things I’ve meant more.” He gives me a searching look. “We all need to talk about what comes next. Together.”

“I know,” I agree, looping my arms around his shoulders. “After the game and once we’ve gotten Caleb better so he doesn’t miss it.”

He kisses me so long and deep that when we eventually get out, my knees give way. After he saves me, he tips the valet and leads me into the hotel, the glass doors silently sliding open.

I’m too busy ogling our sumptuous surroundings that when I glimpse my reflection in a mirrored wall, I blanch.

This is not the done-up Tobie.

This is the sweatpants-wearing, hair just short of a tangle, glasses not sitting straight on my face version of Tobie, safe for my dorm room on a weekday evening when no one will see me but Max. And I didn’t even realize it until now.

I’m not just out in public. I’m in a five-star hotel.

“Gatinha?”

My eyes fly to Javier. “Yeah?”

He draws me closer to his side. “Everything okay?”

I try to work out how to tell him I can’t believe I’m out here looking so scruffy. It’s hard to do with the woman at the front desk literally right there.

And then I realize I don’t care.

Not as much as I would have before.

Not because three men love me, and I love them. Or… not only.

Because over this last semester, I started to accept me for me. Not just my body, my wants and needs, but all of it. So what if I’m out in sweatpants with my hair a tangled mess?

I’m never going to see this woman again, and the only people who I want to think I’m beautiful do.

I squeeze his hand. “Fine. Everything is fine.”

He gives me a longer look and refocuses on the blonde at the check-in desk. “We’re staying for the night. Late check out. I’ll want the room with the best views and amenities. You want a pool, Tobie?” he asks me.

Shit, this hotel is insane.

“Um, I guess if there’s one available,” I say, playing it cool.

“Not all rooms here come with a pool,” he explains with a smile.

“We have the penthouse suite with the infinity pool available,” the woman says.

Javier pulls a black card from his wallet and slides it across the counter. “We’ll take it.”

Upstairs, I’m relaxing in an infinity pool with insane views overlooking the city, but I’m not interested in those views. I have my arms crossed on the edge, chin resting on them, watching Javier as he stretches out on the bed.

I asked him to join me, but he said if he got in this pool with me, the last thing I’d be doing is resting.

He’s still fully dressed, though he’s kicked off his shoes.

“Javier?”

“Gatinha?”

“Why do you like buying me things? And you ask me how I feel after.”

He studies me for a beat. “Would you prefer if I stopped?”

I take in the lap of luxury we’re in, and I’d be an idiot to say no, please keep your money and take me away from this disgusting place.

“Not really. I’m just confused. I’m not used to someone being so generous. And I figured rich people like to hoard all their money like gremlins.”

His lips kick up in a grin. “Gremlins?”

“Shut up,” I grumble, embarrassed at what now seems like a stupid thing to say.

He gets up and walks over to me, sitting on the edge of the pool, and pulling the legs of his pants up before he slides them into the warm water. “Come here.” He holds out his hand to me.

“I’ll get you wet,” I warn him.

“Then I’m wet.”

I take his hand, and he pulls me toward him until I’m resting my chin on his thigh, and he’s combing his fingers through my hair. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m soaking his pants.

“There is something intoxicating about spoiling you. You never ask for anything when you could. You take the things I give you so sweetly that I want to keep giving you more.”

“Oh.”

He drags his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want your smiles, Gatinha. I want to capture all the pleasure I see when I give something to you and hoard those smiles for myself.” A smile sparkles in his gaze. “But not, I hope, like a gremlin.”

I’m not sure I’m buying this.

“And if I were to ask for a Ferrari?” I tilt my head, curious about his response.

He strokes the hair from my face. “What color?”

I blink at him, struggling to believe he means it.

“You wouldn’t buy me a Ferrari just like that?” He doesn’t respond. “Would you?”

He lifts me then, and I straddle him.

If I hadn’t already been soaking his pants, sitting in his arms like this does the job and then some. “You really meant it when you said you didn’t care about being wet, huh?”

“What is the point of money if you don’t spend it on the people you love? What a waste if you hoard it like a gremlin.” He kisses me. “I like to take care of you. My money is just an extension of that care. Is that easier to understand?”

I loop my arms around his shoulders. “It is.” And I kiss him.

He pulls away, groaning. “This isn’t why I brought you here.”

“And if I said I didn’t want a Ferrari, but I want you to make love to me. What then?”

His eyes turn hooded. “You need to rest.”

“I need you inside me,” I whisper against his lips.

His fingers spasm against my lower back, and his cock, wedged between my thighs, swells. “Our food is on its way.”

He ordered us a ridiculous amount of room service when we got to the suite. It’s more food than I will eat, but Javier insisted on taking care of all my needs.

I kiss his throat. “Then you don’t have long to give me what I want.”

I’m in his arms a second later and laughing when he throws me onto the bed and follows me down.

He’s surprisingly serious as he studies me.

“What? Did you just realize we soaked the sheets, and we have nowhere to sleep tonight?”

His lip twitches. “This suite comes with three bedrooms.”

I nod. “Of course it does. Silly me.”

“I’m happy,” he says simply. “For the first time in so long, I’m happy. Things would be better if my parents supported what I want to do and my sister was in my life more, but I’ve never been happier. That’s because of you.”

“I’m sorry they aren’t, Javier.” I kiss him. “We can be our own family. And you’ll like my dad. If something is important to you, he’ll make it important to him. Just ask him about my Beanie Baby phase when you meet him.”

He’s smiling when he kisses me.

His hard body presses down on me, and his fingers are knowing as he caresses me.

He rolls us, making quick work of stripping the sodden clothes off his body. Then he lifts me. His mouth clings to mine as he walks us somewhere.

I keep my arms and legs looped around him until my bare back kisses silky sheets. Only then do I peel my eyes open to discover he’s walked us from the master to another bedroom. “Messing up room number two?”

He strokes his fingers down my arms and lifts them, pinning my wrists to the bed over my head.

“Keep your hands up,” he orders.

“Why?” I whisper.

“We have five, maybe ten minutes before our meal arrives, and I intend to make you come twice before I feed you.”

My stomach twists. “Twice?”

He releases my wrists and pauses for a second, nodding in approval when I don’t move.

“Twice,” he confirms.

“And how do you intend to do that?”

He gathers a pillow from beside us and lifts my hips, tucking the pillow under the base of my spine. “Like this.”

Javier sits back on his heels, and my mouth goes dry as he tears a condom packet open and rolls it over his cock. He isn’t as thick as Caleb, but he’s long, and he’s so beautiful, I ache to have him inside me.

He grips my right ankle and nudges my legs wider apart. I get breathless as his eyes settle between my thighs. “The first time will be when you have my tongue inside you.”

The muscles in my stomach contract.

I start to lower my arms.

“Up, Gatinha.” He moves toward me. “Or I might have to punish you.”

I jump, then moan as he strums my clit as he spears his tongue into me. There’s no defense against such focused attention.

A bell dings as he pushes me into a short, sharp climax.

My toes are curling, and I’m panting as he slides up the bed, grips my wrists, and thrusts into me in one powerful glide.

He’s fucking me hard and deep when there’s a subtle knock on the door.

His lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Quiet. We don’t want him to know what I’m doing to you in this bed.”

I bite my lip as he picks up the pace.

The knock comes again as his hips slap against mine.

“Mr. Duarte?”

A soft moan slips from my mouth. His eyes burn as he gives me a look of warning.

The pillow angles my hips for him, and his cock finds a depth in me that is pushing me into a climax faster than I thought I could fall.

It’s all too much—the knock, the butler just outside, and the need to be quiet in case he hears us.

I bite my lip even harder, whimpering and bucking as my orgasm hits. I shudder again as he slides in even deeper, groaning into my ear as his cock jerks inside me.

For five seconds, neither of us moves. Then he presses a kiss to my lips and gets to his feet, covers me with a sheet, and drags a robe over himself on his way out.

I lay there. For some bizarre reason I will never understand, I keep my arms pinned over my head, listening to the soft tread of Javier’s steps on the thick carpet as he makes his way to the door. The butler is quiet. I don’t hear him speak. Just Javier thanking him, and the tinkling and wheeling sounds of the trolley. The snick of the door closing again.

My breathing kicks up as Javier’s steps move toward me, and he pauses at the door, eyes briefly surprised, then pleased, when he discovers I haven’t moved.

“Gatinha?”

“You said you’d punish me if I put my arms down,” I remind him.

His expression doesn’t change as he crosses over to me and sits on the bed beside me. He gently kisses me. “I would never punish you.” He pauses. “Unless you wanted me to.”

I don’t respond.

“Do you want me to punish you?”

A ball of tension, anticipation, and excitement forms in my belly. “How would you do that, exactly?”

A smile stretches across his lips, and he dips his head. “Let me feed you, Gatinha. And we’ll return to this conversation. In detail.”

Chapter 52

Javier

The next morning, I sit on the edge of the bed beside Tobie, fully dressed in newly bought clothes I had the butler order for me after soaking my clothes the day before.

“Tobie?” I don’t want to wake her, but I’m already running late, and I need to get to the arena for Caleb’s first day back on the ice.

It’s technically still spring break, but most of the team and coaches agreed to come back a couple of days early to help Caleb prepare for the game.

She yawns wide, stretching, her beautiful curves so tempting that for the first time, I consider calling in sick. “Yeah?”

“I have to go to practice,” I explain.

She starts to get up.

I rest my palm on her chest and gently nudge her back. “You are going to enjoy this suite. Sleep. Order room service. It comes with a butler, so if there’s anything else you need, he will get it for you. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

She’s staring at me. “A butler? Like with a bowtie?”

I sweep the hair from her face. “A black tie. He can wear a bowtie if you request it.”

She blinks at me. “Oh, okay. But you only booked this room for a night.”

“I booked another night.” This stay was for Tobie to rest, and what we did most of last night did not involve resting.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I need to go back to my dorm to get my meds.”

“No.” I kiss her. “I want you to rest. And I can bring your meds after practice?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Just let me know where they are, and I can grab whatever else you need for another night here.”

She loops her arms around my neck and draws me down for a kiss. “Will you wake me when you come back?”

My cock stirs at the husky note in her voice. “How would you like me to wake you, Gatinha?”

“Like this,” she breathes out.

“Done,” I say with a smile.

After she tells me where her meds are and gives me the key to her dorm, I promise to grab her meds along with her cell phone and return around two. I don’t know how long practice is going to run. Depending on how Caleb does with his knee on the ice, I could be back much sooner than that.

But I won’t be alone. I intend to bring Reid and Caleb back with me so they can enjoy the suite too. And the hotel has a masseuse. I can’t see Caleb turning down a massage after practice.

I kiss her again and grab the keys for her dorm, turning to leave.

“Javier?”

There’s a flush on her cheeks that makes me instantly curious. The only time I see that particular deep red blush is when I’ve just said something filthy. “What is it?”

“Are you coming back alone?”

I shake my head. “I was going to grab Reid and Caleb. Why?”

“I was just thinking…” Her voice trails off.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket.

Ignoring it, I cross back to her and sink into a crouch beside her. “You were thinking what?”

“You’re going to be late,” she warns.

“Then I’m late.”

A hint of a smile briefly warms her hazel gaze. “What’s going to happen after? Soon, we’ll have graduated, and you won’t always be so busy, right?”

“Right,” I confirm.

We still don’t know what’s happening with the draft, but the dream is that we play for the same team and get a place together.

“So maybe there will be times we’ll all be together.” She darts a rapid glance my way.

When my phone vibrates again, I’m ready to toss it out of the window. “You’re asking about all of us…”

She clears her throat. “I’m curious. I mean, I thought one of you would bring it up first, but none of you are, and I thought, well, is this going to be the way it always is? Or will… other things happen?”

I stare at her without speaking.

I’m not sure what she’s hinting at, but I think I can guess.

“Javier?”

“This practice is going to be terrible,” I mutter.

She blinks. “What?”

I shake my head. “This is new for all of us, so we wanted to go slow. If something more happens, then it happens.”

She peeks up at me through her lashes. “Would something more mean all of you and me together?”

Ten minutes late, I climb out of my car in the arena parking lot, rock hard, and my mind still back in the hotel with Tobie.

I stuttered something that probably didn’t make much sense and told her I’d be back later. Then I left before I could get deeper into a conversation that would have seen me miss practice altogether.

Feet from the arena entrance, a car door flies open, and Nessa scrambles out, flinging herself at me and rocking me back a step. “Surprise!”

I wrap my arms around my seventeen-year-old sister, happy to see her. “Nessa? What are you doing here? You didn’t run away from home, did you?” She did. I can totally see my little sister doing something like that. I start pulling her toward my car. “Come on, I need to get you back to Boston before Mom calls the cops thinking⁠—”

“I didn’t run away from home,” she says, struggling.

“I don’t believe you. You⁠—”

“She’s telling the truth. We brought her,” my mom says, climbing out of the same black Mercedes.

“Mom?”

Dad joins her outside the car. “I think it’s time we had a conversation that needed to happen a long time ago, Javier.”

After the talk I just had with Tobie, I’m not ready to deal with this. Not now.

But if my parents are here with Nessa, then something has changed.

“Come inside.” I fish my keycard from my pocket. “We can talk in the arena.”

Other than a few parked cars belonging to my teammates and the coaches, the parking lot is empty. The arena is emptier still, though the faint sounds of laughter and conversation spill from the rink into the lobby.

I’m already late, but this is important.

I lead my parents and Nessa to the seats near one concession. It’s closed, and it won’t reopen until the next game.

Only Nessa sits in one of the leather chairs, crossing her denim-clad legs as she peers around with brown eyes identical to mine. “Everyone is saying you guys are going to win this year,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not easy,” Mom says quietly. “Wanting the best for your children. To give them everything you didn’t have, to nurture them, push them, love them, and protect them from the bad decisions you think they’re making.”

“It’s easy to go overboard,” Dad takes over as he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “That’s what your mother is trying to say.”

“If this is what you need to be happy, then this is what you’ll be,” Mom says, crossing over to me. She draws me into a hug. “You would have made a brilliant doctor.”

I open my mouth to deny it.

She beats me to it. “But you’ll be a better hockey player because that’s where your heart is. I’m sorry, Javier, for pushing you to do something that was making you so miserable.”

She gets it.

As I return her hug, I ask myself why I didn’t tell her this years ago. Tobie was right. She loves me. Both my parents do. Everything they’ve done for Nessa and me has been because of love. So why didn’t I tell them how miserable I was at Harvard?

“I should have told you this before,” I say.

“You shouldn’t have needed to.” Dad squeezes my shoulder. “We should have seen you were unhappy, and we missed it. We were so happy that you were at Harvard and were going to be a doctor, that our pride blinded us to what was right in front of us. But we will do better.”

“We will talk more,” Mom says firmly, pulling back to clasp my face between her warm hands. “About the things important to you. To Nessa. And we will listen. All of us.”

“How is your friend?” Dad asks.

I cock my head. “Your mother said something about your friend being hurt.”

“He’s okay. Someone hit him with a car.”

They stare at me.

I shake my head. “It’s a long story, and I’m late for practice. You can sit in the stands and watch if you want. Coach won’t mind.”

Dad hugs me. “I have a meeting that I need to get back to Boston for. Your mother and Nessa will stay to watch and get a later flight. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

“For?”

He claps me on the arm. “The big game. I want to see my son lift a trophy.”

When tears clog my throat, I hadn’t realized how much it meant to me to have them there, not just Nessa. “That would be great, Dad.”

After he leaves, I show Mom and Nessa to the stands and tell them they can sit anywhere, and I run to the locker room to change.

I’m twenty minutes late to practice.

Since Nessa and my mom are staying to watch practice, I’ll take them out for dinner after then to the airport.

I need to let Tobie know that I won’t be coming back to the hotel, but Reid and Caleb will be, along with her meds.

Caleb looks like he’s in pain again. Reid is as happy as he has been since Tobie returned and chats with everyone who will listen as he laces up his skates.

“We have to talk,” I tell Caleb and Reid as I put on my skates.

“About?” Caleb is stretching out his knee, wincing slightly.

“Tobie,” I say.

Reid loses his smile. “Did she change her mind about us? Is she going back to that prick? I don’t know where he’s hiding, but when I find him…”

Coach is glaring at me, so I lace my skates faster. “I think she wants more.”

“More what?” Caleb frowns.

I wait until the rest of the team is on the ice and say quietly, “Of us. Together.”

Caleb sits back in his seat, his face slack.

Reid picks up a towel and puts it on his lap, glaring at me. “And you had to tell us this before practice?”

I snort, flicking my gaze to the seats. “How do you think I feel? That conversation happened right before my parents and little sister ambushed me in the parking lot.”

My mom waves at me from the stands.

She looks proud.

If she knew what we were over here talking about, she would not be proud or waving. She’d have me by the ear, dragging me to the nearest bathroom to wash my mouth out with soap.

No mother doesn’t need to know those things, so I smile and wave back, turning to the others when Caleb says, “We need a game plan.”

“For?” Reid blinks at him, looking dazed. “Right. That.”

“If this happens…” Caleb says slowly, “… and it’s looking like it might, it has to be perfect for Tobie. We can’t fuck it up by not knowing what we’re doing. We need a plan.”

Reid scrubs a hand over his face. “Please tell me you’re not going to draw a diagram like one of our plays?”

Caleb doesn’t respond.

“Boucher!” We all recoil from Coach’s yell and scramble to get to our feet.

As expected, practice goes terribly for all of us.

“Where the fuck is your head?” Coach screams at me for the fifth time in an hour.

“You don’t want to know, Coach,” I mutter.

Chapter 53

Tobie

It’s the big game.

Never in a million years did I ever believe I would be wearing a hockey jersey, with face paint on my cheeks, and bouncing with anxiety and excitement about a hockey game.

Yet here we are.

In that alternate universe, I’m in love with three hockey players, they’re in love with me, and we’re going to fight for our future like we’ve never fought for anything else.

For the last two weeks, everything has revolved around hockey and getting Caleb fit for the game. I’ve been to every practice. He has been seeing the physio more than we see him, and we’ve all been relaxing a lot, watching movies, going for short walks, and taking it easy.

This game means everything to them, and I will learn to love it like no one ever loved hockey before.

The arena is packed. I refuse to believe there’s an empty chair in the stands. People blow horns, cheer, and wave signs as they wait for the game to begin. Caramel sweet popcorn and savory roasting meat from hotdogs merge with the thousands of people packed in this space.

On the ice, two teams warm up on opposite ends of the rink. The Lamont Wolverines are in navy blue, silver, and pale blue jerseys, and the Wisconsin Eagles are in deep red, orange, and white.

Between chatting with Nessa and her parents on her other side, I’ve been searching for Javier, Caleb, and Reid among the players warming up.

As I scan the packed arena, looking for Hallie, who I briefly saw before we took our seats, my gaze clashes on someone I did not expect.

“You have got to be fucking joking,” I breathe.

“Tobie?” Nessa asks. “What’s wrong?

I leap out of my seat and press my tub of popcorn into Nessa’s hands. “Can you hold this?”

I let go before she’s agreed to take the jumbo size tub I thought would ease my nervous energy.

I hate confrontation. Literally hate it. Will never ever like it.

Except now.

“You have some nerve coming here,” I snap at my ex-boyfriend. “You run Caleb over with your car, and you’re here to watch him play.”

My voice rises with each word as spectators hush up and lean closer.

“Look, can we talk about this later?” Marc darts them a rapid glance. “The game’s about to start.”

I cross my arms. “No, because you’re leaving. Right now.”

He blinks at me like he can’t believe I would ever suggest such a stupid thing.

“You’re leaving,” I repeat.

“But the game⁠—”

“You nearly killed the team captain. What the fuck is wrong with you that you now want to watch him win?”

“It was an accident,” he hisses, getting to his feet with another rapid glance at our eavesdroppers.

“An accident?”

He rakes a hand through his blond hair. “I wasn’t thinking, okay. I just… they were using you, and they⁠—”

“No, they weren’t. You got pissy because I wasn’t crawling back to you like you thought I would. You knew exactly what you were doing. I bet your proposal was just a way to get back at them, and you’d have turned around and cheated again the second they stopped paying me attention.”

There’s a bubble of silence opening up around us, and it is getting bigger by the second.

When I look down at the ice, the players who were busy warming up are staring at us.

Everyone is watching.

Caleb has pulled his helmet off, and he looks pissed. So does Javier. Theo and Lincoln are holding Reid by each arm, probably to avoid him killing Marc and getting arrested.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Marc says, sitting down.

I stand there for two seconds, frustrated, annoyed, and pissed.

Marc shouldn’t be here. Yes, he loves hockey. This is the biggest game of the year, and he never misses a game and all that crap, but he nearly killed Caleb.

If there were a person who deserves to have their season ticket ripped up, it’s him.

Caleb, Reid, and Javier should be focused on the game, not have to deal with my attempted murdering ex-boyfriend who has a season ticket he doesn’t deserve. They fought for me. I need to fight for them.

But how?

I start looking for an usher or security to throw him out, then I stop.

I don’t need forty-eight hours to figure out the perfect thing to say.

It comes to me like the universe has decided to stop punishing me with the kiss cam and rewarded me with an idea instead.

I pull out my cell phone.

“What are you doing?” Marc asks.

“Calling the cops.”

He leaps to his feet. “What?”

I look at him. “You nearly killed Caleb right outside the arena. I’m sure there will be CCTV footage, so I’m guessing you’re going to jail for a while. How long does someone serve for attempted murder? I can’t remember.”

He stares at me, trembling and white-faced.

“Marc? You’re the one going to law school. Is it ten years or twenty?” I frown thoughtfully. “I mean, are there lawyer conmen, or does going to prison mean you can never⁠—”

He takes off. He’s out of the arena so fast he nearly falls down the stairs.

I watch him go, then I turn back to the ice.

Everyone is still watching me.

And I just…

I did it.

Caleb grins and gives me a thumbs-up. Javier blows me a kiss, and Reid does a bow that has the arena laughing.

Tobie Myers coming up top in a confrontation?

Who is she?

I return to my seat victorious.

Chapter 54

Caleb

It’s the third period, and this game is getting away from us. We started strong, like we always do, but something changed. The Eagles have remembered they’re coming to this as the defending champions, and now we’re at a near draw.

Whoever scores next wins.

“How’s the knee?” Coach asks.

I twist it and hide my wince. “It’s fine.”

Coach points at the physio. “Ice it. Maybe tape it.” He looks at me. “You think you have one more minute in you?”

I know what he’s saying.

Sitting back to give the physio room to work on my knee, I look at the scoreboard and the time we have left.

There’s only one way we win this game, but it doesn’t come without risks. Mainly to me and my fucked-up knee after a painful collision with two defensemen.

“The power play,” I say.

In the Lamont Wolverines’ playbook, we have a lot of plays we’ve perfected over the years. The ‘Go Big or Go the Fuck Home’ play is the biggest we have.

It’s showy, it’s designed to win a game, and it always sends the crowd wild.

And we haven’t pulled it out in too-fucking-long.

“Go big or go home?” Theo says with a grin.

The rest of the team is nodding.

“Let’s give ’em hell,” Reid adds.

Coach eyes me. “Because it’s all about winning.”

I look around the arena like I haven’t in so long, soaking in the crowd’s energy. My eyes linger on the group of kids who are out in force, cheering and waving. They see me watching and cheer even louder.

The Lamont Hurricanes made me realize how much I love to give back, teach, and pass on what I know to the next generation.

But not only that.

I smile. “Not just about winning because that play is fun as fuck. Let’s give our audience a good show, huh?”

Javier grins. “Let’s.”

Knee iced and taped up, I step out on the ice, and my eyes find Tobie.

She’s chewing her nails, visibly tense as she hugs her tub of popcorn with one arm. I hope she’s not holding her breath. She looks like she’s barely breathing.

The game has always been about having fun. It’s what drove me out on the ice day after day for hours and hours. I couldn’t have done it if I didn’t love it, at least not for as long as I have.

It was always about playing for the fun of it with my kid brother.

My eyes find Christian’s green gaze on the other side of the rink. He raises an eyebrow as if to say, you game?

He did the same when we’d play street hockey in the middle of summer.

We’d be out for so long, Mom would have to drag us in to eat, and even then, we’d be out again the second our plates were empty.

Tobie did this.

She brought Reid, Jay, and me closer together. Helped me mend the break between Christian and me. She reminded me of the joy of the game, and I will always love her for it.

I want to win this game for her.

This goal is all hers.

I skate to the center, gripping my stick as my team fans out behind me.

This is it.

One minute.

One play.

One last chance to steal glory from the jaws of defeat.

“You ready to get this, Wolverines?” I yell.

“Let’s GO!” they scream back.

Chapter 55

Tobie

Everyone is tense.

Not me. I’m two seconds away from a heart attack.

The arena is almost silent as the Lamont Wolverines flow across the ice like they were born to it. Caleb is front and center.

I don’t see how he can score. Not from there, and not practically surrounded by the defensemen who weren’t drawn in by a deceptive play that convinced half the Wisconsin Eagles that someone else had the puck.

I’m holding my breath as I stare at the puck, willing it into the back of the net.

Somehow, Caleb carves out one tiny pocket of space.

He hits.

I peer through the fingers of my right hand.

Silence.

The puck slams into the back of the net as a blaring alarm fills the arena.

I leap to my feet, popcorn flying everywhere, arms up, screaming louder than I have in my entire life. Tears are streaming down my face as I hop up and down.

I grab the random guy next to me as I jump. “We won! We won! I still don’t understand all the rules, but I know that means we won!”

He grins at me. “We sure did.”

An hour after the game and the trophy ceremony, the arena has emptied out.

Javier’s parents took Nessa back to their hotel. We’re all going out for dinner tomorrow night, and I’m trying very hard not to be nervous at officially meeting everyone’s parents.

There’s still a bunch of us hanging out in the locker room, passing around a bottle of champagne.

In the hour that I’ve been here, I’ve seen more bare asses than I have in my entire life.

Caleb took to standing in front of me before eventually growling at his teammates to put some fucking clothes on and stop flashing his girlfriend. The bare asses is also why Javier told his parents to take Nessa home after catching her ogling yet another half-naked hockey player.

Reid’s brother, Ryder, who I met before the game, is talking to Jase, one of the assistant coaches when Reid tosses him a jersey. “Here, this is yours.”

Ryder catches it with one hand and glances at the front. “I have one.”

He’s wearing it, in fact, and it has Graves on the back.

He moves to throw it back when Reid makes a circling motion with his index finger. “Not one like that, you don’t. Check out the back.”

Ryder turns it around and stares, fingers bunching the material.

His reaction is so odd that we all drift closer, curious about what’s happening.

“What is this?” Ryder’s voice is hoarse.

We all fall quiet.

“The Wolverines’ newest assistant coach needs a jersey that reflects his position,” Coach says.

Ryder lifts his head, looking at Coach. “But I didn’t apply.”

“No.” Coach scrutinizes him. “But you should have. Reid played me the audio of the advice you’ve been giving him. You don’t belong in a factory, son. You belong on the ice.”

Ryder snaps his head toward Reid. “You recorded our calls?”

“Only some of them.” Reid doesn’t look the least bit sorry. “I warned you that you were forcing me to get devious.”

“You start in the fall. The job comes with accommodations and time off to study for your certifications,” Coach says, walking away. He stops and angles his head back, eyes narrowed on Ryder. “And I hate tardiness.”

Ryder turns to Reid, and for several seconds, he doesn’t speak.

Reid scratches his hair. “So, you see yourself quitting that factory job you hate, and maybe…” He grunts when Ryder drags him into a painful-looking hug.

“Thank you, little brother. I never thought…”

I have tears in my eyes when Ryder’s voice cracks. Ryder squeezes him again, and I blink back tears because I know what it is to be scared to hope that your dreams will ever come true.

“The only reason I have any of this is you,” Reid says, hugging him back just as hard. “The only thing I regret is not being able to do this sooner.”

Later, when we leave for drinks at the campus bar, Ryder is wearing his new jersey with ASST. COACH stamped on the back.

I’m a little confused when Ryder says to Reid, “I’m hoping for Tobie’s sake that you’ve outgrown the sand-throwing phase.”

I look at Javier.

He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah.” Reid twists around to wink at me. “I’ve matured. I have a different way of showing a girl I like her now.”

I blush red-hot when I remember his visit to my room, and Caleb laughs and wraps his arm around me.

Chapter 56

Tobie

Marc did not graduate.

He dropped out or transferred. Or whatever. I didn’t spend my graduation looking for him or worrying about him. I spent it laughing with my dad and the three men I love.

I thought about calling the cops on him, but Caleb just wanted to move on. Considering he was the one most hurt by Marc, I decided to drop it as well.

Max came to our graduation, though she refused the offer to join us for dinner afterward. She’s happy for me and the guys, but she was not the least bit comfortable being around the rest of their teammates.

Dinner with all the families started off awkward. The awkwardness soon melted away as Caleb, Reid, Javier, and I talked about the future we all wanted. Maybe it’s an unconventional way to live, but we love each other, and we’re determined to make things work.

After graduation, we flew by private plane to a luxury villa in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, that Javier rented for our month-long summer vacation before the draft at the end of June and the start of their preseason training at the end of September.

They’ve all signed with one of the best sports agencies in the country and have heard more than a few whispers from their agents that they could start their professional careers with the West Virginia Raiders, an NHL team in Virginia.

Grad school doesn’t start for me until the fall, so we have time to spend together. That means getting the guys settled in Virginia, if the draft goes the way we expect it to, and then getting me situated in Michigan, which thankfully, isn’t a million miles away.

The guys have hit the gym the way they like to most mornings, and when I go looking for breakfast, I find a notebook on the white marble kitchen counter. I’m still trying to figure out the roughly drawn diagrams when they return. “Is this one of your hockey plays?”

They freeze in the kitchen doorway, eyes bouncing between the notebook I’m holding and me.

“Caleb?” He’s the one most frozen, and this looks like his handwriting. My eyes return to the diagram. “I thought there were six players on a team. And there are only four drawn here.”

I’ve been learning more about hockey, but this diagram doesn’t make sense.

I’m sure I overheard them talking in the kitchen before they left. Had they been working on this? “Caleb?”

He sets his gym bag down, and sweat glistens on his bare chest, briefly distracting me. “We’ve been planning.”

“For?”

Javier walks over to the refrigerator and opens the door, pulling out three bottles of water and tossing one at Caleb before turning to look at me. “The something more you said you might want.”

My fingers tighten around the notebook, and the crinkle of paper draws my gaze back to… “Oh!”

“It felt ridiculous at first.” Reid hops on the counter, catching the bottle of water that Javier throws him. His chest also glistens with sweat from their workout, and it is equally distracting.

“And then?” I ask.

“I have never taken so many cold showers in the space of a week in my entire life,” he ruefully admits.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” I ask.

Caleb puts his bottle down and leans against the counter, arms crossed and eyes half hooded as he studies me.

I’d think he was being distant and aloof, but he’s not even trying to hide the erection growing in his pants. “Like all good plays, we stick to our strengths.”

“Right.” I nod like I know the first thing about hockey plays.

“Javier is good at introducing you to the new, to getting you to try something you wouldn’t ordinarily do,” Caleb continues in a low, husky voice. “For instance, the way he pinned you to the wall at the fair and fucked your ass within feet of the attendants.”

I put the notebook down before I drop it and lean against the counter before I fall. “So, you, uh, talked about that?”

“In detail,” Caleb says.

I clear my throat.

“And Caleb shared with us how he had you splayed out on Coach’s table where anyone could have walked right in and seen you,” Reid says.

When leaning isn’t enough, I sit at the dining table, pressing my thighs together to stem the growing ache. “Right.”

Javier puts his half-drained water bottle down. “Reid explained to us that desperate sound you made when he spent… how long was it again, Reid?”

“I lost track of time,” Reid says with a smile.

“Easy to do,” Javier continues. “He explained to us all those sounds you made when he had his face buried between your thighs.”

“And you spent a week on this plan?” My voice is so breathless I can barely breathe.

Javier nods. “It’s important we are thorough about what we intend to do to you.”

Oh my God.

“That you have all of our undivided attention,” Caleb adds.

“For an hour?” I whisper, recalling Reid’s timer.

Reid smiles and shakes his head. “Oh, there won’t be a timer, and it will not be an hour.”

I’m breathing hard, and the sweat sliding down the back of my neck has absolutely nothing to do with the fact we’re in Mexico, and it’s a hundred degrees outside.

It has everything to do with the three hockey players eyeing me like I’m the last melting ice cube in their drink during a heatwave.

“So, the plan?” I clear my throat.

“Is to play to our strengths,” Caleb says, straightening.

My heart leaps in response. Shit. It’s going to happen right now. Right here. Are they going to splay me out on this table? Will it be all at once?

Should I take my panties off now or wait for one of them to do it?

What the hell is this plan, and why does it feel like I might die if I don’t know it right this second?

Caleb turns to walk out.

“Wait! Where are you going?” I call after him.

In fact, where are they all going?

“To clean up after our workout,” Caleb says.

“You, uh, don’t need to do that for my benefit. I don’t mind.”

Javier returns to kiss me and picks up the notebook. “But we do.”

I watch them file out of the kitchen, leaving me confused and so turned on I don’t know what to do.

Later, we’re watching a movie on the big screen television near our villa’s swimming pool.

“Relax,” Reid says. “We’re on vacation.”

You try to relax when you’re on vacation with three hot guys who have just admitted they spent a week planning out how to have group sex with you, but you don’t know when it’s going to happen.

I look at Reid, silently communicating my frustration.

He smiles and turns his attention to the movie.

No one is jumping me, and I don’t know if this plan is something I’m supposed to initiate. The notebook was just a rough diagram. There were no instructions. At least none that I could decipher, but the tension is killing me.

Every time one of them touches, kisses, or brushes up against me, I tense up, my heart races, and I hold my breath.

But nothing happens.

One day trickles into two, and we just relax, drinking from coconuts, swimming in the sea, and eating fresh fish on the beach. We do all the nice relaxing vacation things. I was happy with that before I heard about this plan and had time to think about all the things they would do to me.

Now it’s not fine.

I take a shower before bed and leave the bathroom, holding my breath just like I did the night before, expecting to find them waiting in my bed, ready to put this plan into action.

I can hear them laughing downstairs as they watch the football game they didn’t want to miss.

Why are they more interested in watching football than jumping me? Does that make me sound selfish?

I don’t bother with a nightgown for bed. It’s too hot in Mexico, even with the air-conditioning.

I turn out the lights, close my eyes, and try to relax enough to sleep.

And I do.

Because I’m floating in this beautiful dream of Reid drawing my right breast into his mouth with the perfect amount of suction to make me grab onto his hair and…

I flutter my eyes open.

Reid is crouched over me, and he’s naked.

“Reid? You’re not watching football.”

His eyes crease with amusement as he sits back so I can sit up. “Did you honestly think we give a shit about football when we could be with you?”

“But you⁠—”

Fingers grip my chin, angling my head to the right.

“We wanted you ready for us. And this.” Javier, naked, is perched on the side of my bed.

I stare at him, incredulous. “What the hell do you mean? Are you blind? I was over here getting ready to hump a pillow.”

He laughs.

“There’s no need for that when you can hump us,” Caleb says.

My gaze settles on Caleb’s erection as he closes my door. He’s not wearing a condom. None of them are, and they won’t from now on.

Sex between us is going to be bare. No condom. Nothing between us. Just skin.

Reid moves off me, but he does it in such a way that grinds his thigh along my aching pussy, making me moan.

The plan is happening.

Now.

And I kind of freeze in panic.

Not gonna lie, I was not expecting that, given how badly I wanted to do this.

Javier gives me a knowing look. “Ah, this is what we were hoping to avoid.”

“What?” I squeak.

“You’re nervous, and it’s okay to be,” Javier says soothingly. “Caleb, turn off the camera.”

“No, I’m… wait. What camera?”

Caleb arches his eyebrow. “The camera we have trained on you so people can see all the things we do to you.”

My heart stutters.

“People? What…” I look around, hunting out this elusive camera but finding no trace of the telltale red recording light anywhere. And the more I search for it, the less hard I look, almost like I don’t want to find it. “How many people?”

“Perhaps no people at all,” Reid says, turning my face to kiss me. He shrugs. “Maybe no one is watching at all.”

“But if they were…” I whisper, breathing faster, “… then we shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, it would be wrong to do this knowing people could be watching.”

Reid smiles. “Would it?”

He captures my mouth.

I go with him as he draws me down onto him.

This isn’t a kiss.

This is complete and utter possession.

His hands sweep over my ass, stroking, caressing, rubbing my aching pussy along a rock-hard erection. His tongue is simulating the things he intends to do to me, and I move with him, letting him lead the way.

A breath escapes my lips in a rush when he eases away and thrusts. He clasps my hips and withdraws before he thrusts again until he’s seated deep inside me.

My body is still rippling around him when Javier comes up behind me and kisses the back of my shoulder. “We’re going to try something, Gatinha.”

“What?” I question, moaning when Reid sucks my nipple into his mouth.

“Do you think you can take two of us?” Javier kisses my neck, and I shiver in pleasure.

I remember the fair. The egg in my pussy and Javier in my ass. “Yes.”

A smile stretches across my skin. “I didn’t tell you where you would be taking two of us.”

I twist to face him.

He meets my gaze steadily. “Can your pretty cunt take two cocks?”

I feel myself spasm around Reid, and he groans in response. “Um…”

Javier’s smile is nothing less than potent temptation. “Reid is going to keep you steady. You’re going to be too tight for both of us to move, so we’ll go nice and slow.”

“Sure.” I try to play it cool as I fidget on Reid, who grins knowingly at me when there is one part of my body I can’t hide my excitement.

“I know exactly what this is doing to you, beautiful.” Reid draws the top half of my body down so I have my ass up, and my mouth is inches from his. “I feel you squeezing me. You want this?”

I nod.

My breath hitches when Javier’s fingers brush the curve of my ass, and he whispers into my ear, “With just how tight this pussy is, I’m going to have to work hard to squeeze myself inside you. And you can’t come, Gatinha. Not until I’m balls deep. Can you do that?”

Shit.

I thought Caleb was the one with the filthy mouth. But Javier and that accent…

When I glance at Caleb, his gaze is watchful, and a hint of a smile curls his lips as if he knows how I’m responding.

Was this talk part of the plan?

Did he tell Javier how much I like being told what’s going to be done to me?

I swallow hard. “And Caleb?”

He stalks toward me, masculine, strong, and so hypnotic, I can’t look away.

He doesn’t stop until he’s standing at the side of the bed, directly over Reid’s head, and with his cock inches from my mouth.

His fingers grip my hair, gently tugging until an inch, maybe less, separates my mouth from the tip of his cock. He looks me in the eye. “I won’t last long with your sexy mouth, but…”

“But?” I prompt.

He dips his head, claiming my lips in a searing kiss. “I intend to try.”

The click of a bottle opening makes me jump, and I twist around to meet Javier’s gaze.

He holds it as he pours out a generous amount of lube into the palm of his hand and grips the base of his cock. “It’s not too late to change your mind if you don’t want this, Gatinha.”

But I do want this.

His cock glistens with lube, and I jump again when it brushes against me. Not startled. Excited.

“I want this,” I say, looking him in the eye.

He places the bottle on the table and captures my lips in a far-too-brief kiss. “Then let’s give you what you want.”

I couldn’t have prepared myself for this.

Not this.

I grab onto Reid, my nails digging into his shoulders as Javier works his cock inside me. I thought Reid had taken up all the room there was, but Javier is determined to make himself fit right alongside him.

“You won’t fit.” I wiggle, moaning at the insane pressure as Javier grasps my hips and starts pushing inward.

“No, Gatinha,” Javier breathes. “Let me do the work. I’ll find my way in.”

And he does.

Between lube and tiny thrusting motions, he makes space in my body and works himself deep.

I feel stretched like I never have before.

Reid groans, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his body is trembling under me.

“Reid?” I whisper.

“Fuck, this is incredible.” He takes a ragged breath. “This not moving is going to fucking kill me.”

I feel him throbbing, so I know he means it.

When Caleb guides his cock to my mouth, I leave my hands on Reid’s shoulders, letting Caleb control the pace, giving him my trust.

“Whatever you want, Caleb.” I look him in the eye. “Take it. It’s yours.”

His eyes burn with pleasure. His hand gripping my hair tightens. Right now, looking at him like this, I know this is his thing.

This is what he wants.

Me giving myself up to him to do with what he wants.

Caleb brushes the tip of his cock over my mouth.

I open it.

“That’s it,” Caleb whispers, angling my head back as he grunts and starts thrusting. “You always know what I need.”

Reid is shaking beneath me, and I moan in response to each hard jerk of his cock.

Then Javier starts moving, easing out and thrusting back in.

All I feel is pressure. Tight. Too small. Stretched.

Caleb is grunting as he fucks my mouth, controlling the pace as I try to remember to breathe while Javier and Reid’s cocks throb deep inside me.

The pleasure builds, and it blooms inside me.

Heat is curling in my belly as Caleb pumps into my mouth, then my throat.

Reid is gasping, fingers almost painful on my hips as he starts to come.

I’m squeezed so tight around them both that it’s too much.

Caleb fills my mouth, and I swallow just before he pulls out, and Javier slams into me one last time.

I scream, my muscles so tense as my mind shatters.

Javier is groaning, and his cock still twitches inside me as I slump on top of Reid.

It takes forever for my heart to stop racing.

Javier presses a soft kiss on the back of my shoulder and gently eases out of me. Reid does the same. As they move me, Caleb is there, on his knees, with a damp cloth that he uses to clean between my thighs.

I smile at him, and he returns it, leaning down to claim a kiss. “Beautiful,” he breathes against my lips. “Rest now, okay?”

“Okay.” I relax, exhausted, until I remember something. “Wait. Isn’t someone going to turn the camera off?”

Reid flashes me a grin. “What camera?”

I stare at him, struggling to think up a response.

Caleb angles my head toward him. “You’re ours, Tobie. No way were we going to point a camera at you like that, especially when you were sleeping and especially when you were naked.”

“But—”

Javier kisses me. “How did it make you feel knowing someone could be watching?”

“You know I liked it.” I blush, looking at them. “You knew it, or you wouldn’t have done it. Was that the plan?” I ask, settling down to sleep. “ ’Cause it was a good plan. I liked it.”

“Just part one,” Reid says with a yawn.

I forget about sleeping and bolt up in bed. “Just part one?”

“Everyone knows hockey games are played in three periods,” Caleb says. “So this plan has three parts.”

Three parts.

I won’t survive three when the first nearly killed me.

“What’s part two?”

Caleb points to one side of my room. There’s a green silk scarf with two ends dangling from a fan. I didn’t notice it before, so they must have done it while I was in the shower earlier or when I was already asleep.

“Uh, what’s that?”

Reid grins at me. “Part two.”

My mouth is dry. “What does part two involve?”

Javier presses me down onto the bed. “Rest, Gatinha. And we will show you.”

Chapter 57

Javier

Tobie is still sleeping when I sit up, ready to start on part two.

Reid and Caleb stretch and yawn as I lean in to claim a kiss from Tobie, a long, deep one because I’m sitting this out for the most part.

She kisses me back, still half asleep but increasingly deeper as she wakes up.

I break the kiss. “You ready for part two?”

Arousal stirs in her hazel gaze, and she nods.

I claim another kiss from her. When she fully sinks into it, I pick her up, sitting back on my heels, and then stand to walk over to the dangling silk.

Behind her, Caleb has the lube bottle and is slicking his cock from base to tip.

I’ve never been attracted to men, but this, all of this that we’re doing to Tobie, knowing what’s coming next and imagining watching it all, is a turn-on unlike any other.

Caleb moves behind her.

I break the kiss with Tobie and capture her gaze. “We’re going to lift your arms,” I tell her.

A hint of amusement creases the corners of her eyes. “Will you punish me if I put them down?”

Her amusement grows when my cock hardens against her. “Later, Gatinha. Caleb has your ass now.” I capture her gaze. “Do you trust us not to hurt you?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, I trust you.”

“This is about making you feel good,” I say. “But if you feel uncomfortable or afraid or you just want to stop, we will, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Reid?” I prompt.

Her eyes lift to the dangling silk scarves as Reid steps forward, securing her wrists.

Caleb kisses her throat as he steps in close behind her.

“I have had dreams…” Caleb breathes against her throat, “… of what it might feel like to take your ass the way Javier did.”

Her breath catches. “You have?”

He kisses her neck. “And we figured your pussy needs rest and attention after the workout Reid and Javier gave it.”

“What kind of rest?” she whispers, angling her head and sighing when Caleb kisses her throat again.

“You’ll see. But first…” Caleb takes a small step forward, and I harden, knowing what he’s preparing to do. “I need to get you ready for me.”

I’m holding Tobie, her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms secured by the silk. I keep my eyes on Tobie’s face, watching her closely.

She’s always been so expressive.

I know just as much from her soft gasps and moans as I do from the pleasure that flashes across her gaze as Caleb slides his lube-slicked fingers into her ass to get her ready for him.

“Are you ready for two fingers, baby?” Caleb asks her minutes later.

She’s breathing hard, her eyes locked on mine as I fight not to thrust inside her.

“Do it,” she whispers.

Her face tightens, then she releases a soft sigh. She wiggles a bit in my arms, pushing back slightly and then moaning.

Seeing her reactions this close up makes it a battle not to take her like this.

Reid is watching, waiting for what’s coming next.

“I’m ready for her, Jay,” Caleb says, his voice rough.

And I kiss her again, waiting for her to relax, then pull away. “Caleb?”

His arms brush against mine. “I have her.”

As I step back, he cradles her against his front, his arms sliding down her body to hook her under her bent knees and lifting her, holding her open.

She jumps when Reid sinks in front of her and presses a kiss on her clit. “You asked what kind of attention we’d be giving your pussy before. This kind.”

As Caleb positions his cock behind her, I keep my eyes on Tobie’s face. “How do you feel, Gatinha?”

“Okay,” she replies.

Caleb kisses the side of her neck. “This can stop anytime you want, okay?”

“I know.”

When Caleb starts pushing into her ass, there’s no stopping my hand from going to the base of my cock at the hungry moan she releases. “Oh God.”

“You want me to stop?” Caleb’s voice vibrates with tension.

She shakes her head almost frantically. “Don’t stop.”

He eases his hips away and pushes inward again, and she moans when Reid wraps his hands around her thighs and buries his face against her pussy.

She’s panting as Caleb kisses her throat and works his cock deeper into her.

I watch, tightening my fist around my dick as Caleb slides in and out of her body, his cock glistening from the lube.

She’s breathing hard, and Reid is gripping her hips now, holding her still as he licks and sucks her clit.

Their pace is lazy—for now.

“Gatinha?”

She releases a soft, breathy moan that feels like someone wrapped a hand around my cock and squeezed.

“You’re not coming yet, are you?” My tone is amused when I’m ready to come on the spot. “Plan two has barely started.”

She moans, head back as Caleb wraps his arms around her body and thrusts deep again.

When he grunts, my cock swells because I know exactly what he is feeling. I remember how it felt to be balls deep inside her.

She’s beautiful.

But with her wrists secured with the brilliant green silk and arms over her head, Caleb thrusting into her ass, slow and deep, and Reid groaning on his knees as he sucks on her clit, I can’t take my eyes off her.

She moans, twisting her head. “I can’t wait.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” She pants, hips moving faster now as Reid sucks harder.

Caleb’s eyes flash open at the catch in her voice. We’ve all heard it before. We know what it means. Our girl is coming.

“Reid,” Caleb grates. “Now.”

Reid surges up, swipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and thrusts into Tobie as Caleb holds her still. As he thrusts into her pussy, Caleb pounds into her ass.

She chokes, gasps, moans, twisting and undulating as their timed thrusts throw her into a climax that shakes her body.

Caleb falls next, the muscles in his neck bunching as he strains into her climaxing body, which makes her scream and come again.

I’m pumping my cock with my fist, eyes bouncing from her face to Reid and Caleb thrusting in unison into her. She’s so beautiful when she’s lost to her pleasure. Reid is slamming into her slick cunt with desperate groans.

I’m fighting off my release when Reid pounds into her and then tenses, straining to go deeper inside her.

As they pant, slowly coming down from their release, I untie the silk from around Tobie’s wrists as Caleb draws himself out of her.

Reid carries her over to the bed, and I stretch out on my back.

He settles her onto me, and I wrap myself around her, clasping her hips as I slowly push myself into her.

Caleb is on his back, his hands in her hair, watching her face as she straddles me. Reid is on my other side, also watching, but I don’t take my eyes off Tobie as I pump myself inside her.

She moans.

That was something important we discussed before tonight—the importance of learning to take a step back and putting Tobie’s needs first. We all want and need her, but there will be times she will want and need us at different times.

As I slowly pump into her, she grips my shoulders and starts to ride me. “Still part two?”

“Just a little something sweet and slow to send you to sleep.”

I thrust again, and her breath catches.

“You and me have very different ideas about how to get to sleep.”

I smile and slow. “You want me to⁠—”

“Don’t you dare stop,” she cuts in.

“Come here,” Caleb growls, twisting his hand in her hair and drawing her down. “I want your mouth.”

She gives it to him, sweetly, without hesitation or holding anything back. He groans in pleasure.

As I grasp her hips, I slam into her once, twice, and groan as I find my release in her.

She falls seconds later and slumps against me.

“And part three?” she whispers, eyes drifting closed.

Reid yawns. “Not now.”

My gaze flicks to Caleb, who briefly holds it.

He sweeps back the hair from her cheek. “Part three is coming another time.”

It’s a different form of all of us coming together.

Chapter 58

Tobie

We returned from Mexico tanned, relaxed, and happy in time for the NHL draft.

A part of me hadn’t wanted to return at all. I’m excited about starting my master’s, and the guys are excited about joining their NHL team, but Mexico had been incredible.

The draft, the biggest night of Caleb, Reid, and Javier’s hockey career, goes as expected.

They’re all heading to Virginia.

None of us knows what the future holds, but who does?

They won’t always be on the same team or even in the same city. Life is going to pull us in different directions, and we’ll have to fight to carve out time to see each other.

Before we separate, they come to Lawrenceburg to help me pack for grad school.

“Grad school is only a year,” I say quietly. “I can come to see you every weekend.”

“And we will come to see you when we have time off between practices,” Reid says.

I’m not sure when their games will be, but I’ll have weekends off from school, so I will probably be traveling to see them more than they can come to see me.

“Then we’ll live together,” Javier says.

Because after I graduate, I’ll find a teaching job in Virginia. “You’ll be the best players in the NHL.”

“And you’ll be the best teacher,” Caleb says.

We spent a lot of time in Mexico talking about the future. We all want kids. Just not yet. Marriage isn’t going to work for us, and that’s okay. What we have is more than I ever believed I would have.

I remember saying those exact words to them on the private plane back from Mexico.

And then Caleb, Reid, and Javier told me about part three of the plan.

A different kind of marriage.

A commitment ceremony with all of them and me. Maybe we could do it in the backyard of our new Virginia home when I’ve finished with grad school. Just us and the people we love most in the world. What did I think?

I cried for nearly an entire hour. I was that happy.

“Do you want to take all these books?” Javier asks, standing in front of my bookcases. “There’s space in the condo for them.”

Speaking of condos…

“You don’t need to buy me a condo, Javier. I’ll only be in Ann Arbor for a year.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, I sigh. “You’ve already done it, haven’t you?”

“I found the perfect place when we were in Mexico,” he says, drawing me into a hug. “It’s in Angell and close to your school, so it’s convenient, and it’s safe.”

None of those amenities make me think this condo is cheap.

Over his shoulder, my gaze clashes with Reid, who mouths, “Three bedrooms with a gym in the building.”

I open my mouth to tell Javier it’s too much, but this is Javier, and he loves me. This is how he shows his love for the people he cares about.

“Thank you.” I kiss his cheek. “Maybe we could keep the condo after. Ann Arbor is really pretty.”

His smile is everything. “Anything you need, Gatinha. It’s yours.”

We soon resume packing up my life in Lawrenceburg.

“We didn’t decide on a prize,” I say.

“Huh?” Reid pauses his packing.

“When you bet that you’d have Marc on his knees begging to take me back, we didn’t decide on a prize.”

Caleb smiles at me. “We have you. What other prize would we want?”

My eyes prickle with tears. “And I got you.”

I’m probably taking more than I need, but I won’t be coming home as much as I did when I was in Lamont. My life will involve bouncing between Ann Arbor and West Virginia, at least for the next year, and it still feels so surreal. “I keep thinking you’ll stop me.”

Caleb studies me from my closet. Serious. But beneath that gruff exterior lies the heart of a soft and squishy man who loves me. “Do you want us to stop you?”

I shake my head. “This is something I’ve always wanted.”

“It’s a year,” he says. “You’ll kick ass.”

“You won’t replace me, will you?” I ask, voicing a secret fear.

“We could try,” Reid says slowly.

My stomach clenches as I stare at him. “What?”

He walks over to me. “But I’m not sure where we would ever find a beautiful girl with these pretty gold-rimmed glasses, an infectious giggle…”

“The sweetest smile,” Javier says.

“And who we could love half as much as you…” Caleb adds.

Reid grins at me as I fight back tears. “I’m not sure a girl like that exists anywhere but right here, and I’m looking at her.”

Laughing, I hug him.

“There won’t ever be anyone but you, Tobie,” Reid says. “I love you, and yours is the only pussy I want to worship.”

A soft throat clearing makes me blush, and I bury my face against Reid’s chest.

“You didn’t hear that, did you, Dad?” I call out.

Javier is shaking with laughter as is Caleb when my dad says, “Well, I guess you’re never too old to learn something new.”

We fill the room with laughter, even if it takes me a minute before I can look my dad in the face.

Dad’s cheeks are pink. “You ready for dinner, Junebug?”

He’s taking us out for dinner before we head to Virginia for a full week of house viewings. We have three contenders, and we’re all excited to see the insane house that comes with an ice rink in the basement.

“Just need to grab my shoes,” I tell Dad.

“I can get dinner, Mr. Myers,” Javier offers.

Dad shakes his head and wraps his arm around me. “I’ve never seen my little girl this happy. Her mom would have loved to see this. And I told you to call me Bruce.” He kisses my forehead and turns to smile at Javier. “This meal is on me. Just no more talk of⁠—”

I clap my hand over his mouth. “Oh my God, I’ll die if you say it, Dad. I will literally keel over on the spot.”

He peels my hand from his mouth and smiles as he leads the way out of my room. “Let’s go to dinner. How’s the prep going for the start of the season?”

Dad isn’t into sports. He’s like me—never really into it.

But as we head out for dinner, and Caleb, Reid, and Javier fill him in on all the preseason training they have coming up and who their biggest rivals are, I can see most of it is going over his head.

But he’s still nodding. Still listening. Still trying.

Because it’s important to them and me, he’s making it important to him.

That’s love.

It wraps you up and brightens the dark corners of your heart—the parts you hadn’t realized were shadowed at all.

And as you reach for dreams you were too afraid of before, the fear that you’ll fail and have nothing isn’t so sharp because you aren’t without anything.

You have love.

“Tobie?” Caleb is smiling at me as Javier holds the car door open for me. “You ready?”

For the start of my new life?

To start living my dreams alongside the three men I fell so deeply in love with, I cannot imagine a future without them in it?

“Absolutely.”

Epilogue

Tobie

Four Years Later

“Tobie, have you seen⁠—”

“Next to the front door!” I yell at Caleb. “Can you ask⁠—”

“Got it,” Javier interrupts. “And Reid is here already.”

“Just waiting on you now, beautiful,” Reid calls back. “Do you need help?”

“No. I’m okay.” I carefully make my way down the stairs, one hand on the banister for balance since the last time I saw my ankles was a month ago.

I come within sight of three of the most beautiful men in the world, carrying so many bags as they stand beside the front door, I can’t help but grin. “That is an excessive number of bags for a two-week trip.”

A muscle in my lower back twinges, and I wince. Before I can make the last steps down, Caleb drops his bag, stalks over, and scoops me into his arms. “Come here, Myers.”

“I told you I could walk.”

He kisses me. “You are the mother of our child. You don’t need to walk when you have us.”

Because I’m seven months pregnant, and my ankles are getting swollen, I don’t argue. I just accept his help. Swollen ankles won’t be a problem for much longer because we’re going to be spending the next two weeks on a beach in Hawaii, our last vacation before we welcome baby number two.

Matilda Graves-Boucher-Duarte spent her first night away from us last night, and between my backaches and worry about her, I don’t think any of us slept well.

My master’s was rewarding and exciting but exhausting. So was the guys’ rookie year in the NHL. We bounced between Michigan and Virginia, determined to see each other every chance we got.

It was hard, but we did it.

All of that was nothing compared to teaching, running a household, and going to as many of the guys’ hockey games as I could manage while pregnant.

Then I started feeling nauseous after eating strawberries, the telltale sign I was pregnant again. Caleb, Reid, Javier, and I talked about whether I would keep working or stay at home. Initially, Javier suggested a housekeeper and nanny because I was still so set on teaching. But what I want isn’t to hire a nanny, though I’m enormously lucky that we can afford to do that. I love to teach, but I want to be a stay-at-home mom, at least for the next little while.

I meet Caleb’s eyes as he carries me out to the car. “Do you think she missed us as much as we missed her?”

Reid and Javier carry our bags to the car.

“Your dad would have brought her home if she’d been too upset,” Reid says.

Javier kisses my forehead. “I’m sure she had fun with Grandpa.”

It’s a short drive to Dad’s house.

He moved to Virginia to be closer to us when Matilda was born. I thought he would live in Lawrenceburg forever, but he said his heart was here, so he moved.

As we pull up to the three-bedroom house fifteen minutes away, my dad is standing in the doorway, holding our thirteen-month-old little girl.

Telling them I was pregnant—learning I was pregnant—will forever go down as one of the happiest days in my life.

Biologically she is Caleb’s, but she owns all our hearts.

Matilda giggles and points as Reid parks outside the house. Javier helps me out. Caleb is there first, arms stretched out to take her. I’m not even sure Caleb sees my dad. He only has eyes for Matilda.

“Hey, little darling. Come to Daddy.”

“How was last night?” I ask Dad, stroking Matilda’s back and kissing her soft, light brown hair as Caleb holds her.

I was right when I said he had a soft and squishy inside, and he doesn’t even try to hide it now. At least, not when he’s on land. On ice, he’s one of the NHL’s biggest scorers, and no one can touch him.

But it’s not just Caleb who is untouchable. It’s the West Virginia Raiders. They won the Stanley Cup a couple of years ago, came second the following year, and it looks like they’re going to win it again this year.

Reid, Javier, and Caleb are still the Magic Three, and they are still making magic on the ice.

“She missed you, but I distracted her with crayons,” Dad says.

“Easily replaced with crayons? Ouch.” Reid winces and takes her with a grin when Caleb passes her to him. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Javier slides his arm around my waist. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to Hawaii with us, Bruce?”

Dad shakes his head. “This vacation is for you. And…”

I eye my dad closely, wondering at his slightly pink cheeks. “Are you blushing?”

“Of course not,” he denies, blushing even harder when a woman calls out, “Good morning, Bruce. See you at bridge tonight.”

My eyes bounce between my dad and the woman in her forties, getting into her car.

A grin is making my cheeks hurt.

“Now stop that. She’s just being a good neighbor,” Dad says.

“Of course she is.” Javier takes Matilda from Reid and kisses her forehead. “If you want to stay here and be a good neighbor to her, we’ll bring you something nice from Hawaii.”

“Just photographs,” Dad says, his eyes straying to the dark gray sedan disappearing down the road. “Lots of photographs that I can put in the album.”

Maybe it’s wishful thinking to hope he’s found love, but I want Dad to be as happy as we are. To have someone to share his life and his love with. He deserves it.

“You ready to get out of here, Gatinha?” Javier asks me as he passes a giggly Matilda to me.

Our daughter’s first vacation. Our last vacation as a family of five. And the continuation of a life even happier than the last four years have been.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

The End

Bonus Epilogue

For more Tobie and the Magic Three

Grab a free bonus epilogue here!

Also by Ember L. Nicole

Their Precious Omega Series

Runaway Omega

Captive Omega

Defiant Beta

Hopeless Omega

About the Author

Ember is a voracious romance reader turned author.

When she's not hunched over her keyboard, you will find her with her nose buried in a book, trying out new recipes, or annoying her partner by listening to the same five songs on repeat.