Training was a nightmare today.
Roman convinced Coach to crank up the drills just to be a dick. And after the way Zeke and I had him coming apart this morning, you’d think he’d be a little nicer… But nope, Roman Ashford clearly gets off on watching us all suffer.
The truth is, I don’t even care. I’ll still offer him my ass later without a second thought. It is his birthday, after all, and God help me, I love how the man fucks.
My face pressed into the mattress, his hand fisting my hair, and his thick cock driving so deep it’s like my body was made just to take him.
Yeah, he can be as much of a bastard on the ice as he wants, and I’ll still be begging for him by the time tonight’s over.
We rolled out of the rink a little after six, hit the showers and changed, and now, a couple of hours later, we’re sitting at a corner table in Angelo’s, celebrating Roman’s birthday. To everyone around us, we probably just look like three friends grabbing a late dinner, laughing too loudly, and stealing each other’s fries. But nobody sees the truth written into every part of me—that thesemen are mine. Zeke and Roman are carved into my soul, stitched into my skin, and burned into every choice I make.
There’s no version of me that exists without them.
It feels just as good knowing it now as it did the day Roman finally stopped fighting what he felt for me and Zeke and let himself fall. The stubborn ass held out longer than I thought he would, but damn if the fall wasn’t worth the wait.
We started off playing on the same team, built our bond in the grind of practices and the pressure of games, and forged a friendship I always thought would stay simple.
But it didn’t.
The attraction didn’t ease its way in—it crashed into us, violent and undeniable, hitting fast and hard until it was all Zeke and I could think about.
Every time I tried to get him to just fucking kiss me, because I knew he wanted to, he’d grit his teeth, mutter something about boundaries, and put another mile between us. He was determined to bury what was burning between the three of us, but desire like that doesn’t just disappear. And the second he broke—fuck—it was one of the best days of my life. He stopped running and finally admitted with his mouth, his hands, and his whole body that he was just as desperate for us as we were for him.
From then on, there was never going to be anyone else for any of us.
That door closed the second we let each other in.
One day, I’m going to sit in this same restaurant, maybe even this exact seat, and I’m going to touch them the way I want to. I’ll lace my fingers through Zeke’s and lean over and kiss Roman without worrying who’s looking or what they might say.
One day, the whole world will know that these two men belong to me, and anyone who doesn’t like it can literally go fuck themselves into oblivion.
Face-first.
Bare-assed.
Whatever works.
But for now, I keep my mouth shut.
Not because I’m scared.I’d burn the world down for them without blinking, but they deserve peace. They deserve something that’s just ours, without the cameras and the headlines and the bloodthirsty motherfuckers who don’t know a goddamn thing about real love.
Tonight’s supposed to be about celebrating Roman.
Not thinking about Colorado.
Not thinking about going back to where it all started.
And definitely not thinking about the blonde still living there.
Except sometimes I think I can still taste her lips.
Addison Hope is the only girl I’ve ever been crazy about.
From day one, I was obsessed—craving everything she tried to keep off-limits. She didn’t reveal much back then, not with all the Roman shit weighing her down before we got close enough for her to trust me, but I knew. I wasn’t blind to the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention, and over time, I knew the pull wasn’t one-sided. That’s why, when the chance finally came, I didn’t hesitate.
Addie never wanted to get stuck in that town, and yet, that’s exactly what happened. She married some floppy fuckboy who could never deserve her, not in a million years. And the worst part is that there’s a piece of me that hates her for it. I hate that she fell in love, and of all the people in the world, it had to be with Mikey King.
I’m not an idiot. I knew she’d move on. It’s been five years. But if I had it my way, she would’ve been part of us. She would’ve fit into the life we built and the dream we crafted, just like she was always meant to.
