Jasper laughs just as Roman steps back inside, pocketing his phone, his eyes immediately finding hers.
“Addie’s invited us over tomorrow night,” I tell him, watching his face carefully.
“Yeah, hard pass.” He runs a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. “No offense, Addie, but I’m not spending the night anywhere near Mikey. I know he’s your guy, but I can’t stand that dick.”
Addison doesn’t flinch. She just cocks her head and fires right back. “You could be one too, once.”
Suddenly I’m not standing in her bookstore anymore. I’m standing five years in the past, watching Roman and Addison dance around each other like they weren’t already on fire.
“Oh, I’m still a dick. I just don’t hide it behind a fake smile and a snake’s personality.”
“Well, you’ll be glad to know he won’t be there, so the invitation stands.”
Roman goes quiet, staring her down, and the silence stretches between them, charged with all the history they’re pretending doesn’t exist. There’s still something there. We can all feel it, even if he’s too damn stubborn and she’s too married to admit it.
“How about you come to us instead?” Jasper cuts in, pulling out his phone and holding it out to her. “Give me your number, and we’ll figure it out.”
I watch as she punches in her number, her fingers steady even though I can see her pulse fluttering in her throat.
Addie, baby, you really have no idea what you just did.
Because she doesn’t know what it means to give Jasper an inch when he’s been starving for a mile.
The man is relentless on a good day—on the ice, in bed, inevery part of his life, and now that he has her number, he’s not going to leave her alone.
“It was good to see you, Addison.”
“You too, Zeke,” she says, her smile touching something deep in my chest. “All of you.”
With one last look at her, we turn and walk away, the bell over the door chiming behind us.
The bitter December wind whips around us, and I hear Roman take a shaky breath as we start walking.
“Are you okay?” I ask, fighting the urge to pull him close.
“Yeah, just seeing her again… It’s a lot.”
“Made you realize you still feel something for her?” Roman nods, and Jasper slides an arm around his shoulders, casual but grounding him with the contact I know he needs. “Well, you’re not the only one, Captain, which is good. Means you’re still just as stupidly gone for her as we are, right, Zeke?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out. “She hasn’t changed at all, has she? Five years, and she still looks at us like we never left.”
“Let me grab some dinner,” Jasper says, his thumb stroking Roman’s shoulder. “You two head back. Take a minute to?—”
“Don’t go.” Roman cuts him off, and I see that spark of need between them—that instinct to reach for each other when shit gets heavy. His fingers find Jasper’s coat, holding on. “The restaurant up at the lodge is fine.”
“Come on.” I shove the keys at Roman because we all know he needs to move; he needs to do something before he combusts.
We had to book the largest cabin with enough rooms for all three of us to keep up the lie. I hate living like the best thing in my life issomething I have to hide, but I don’t see another way until we can all walk away from hockey for good.
Coming out would be like handing ourselves over to be ripped apart. The media would have a field day. The sports networks would dissect it, and fans would spit their opinions across every screen they could reach, as if loving each other somehow cancels out everything we’ve achieved on the ice.
I close the cabin door behind me, and Roman’s on me like a starved animal. His big hands fist my hair, yanking my head back as his mouth crashes onto mine. His tongue forces my lips apart, taking what he needs, and within seconds, both our shirts are off. I bend to run kisses along his shoulder, tasting salt and skin and marking him with my teeth.
“On the bed,” Roman growls as I strip off the rest of my clothes.
I watch him from the corner of my eye—watch how his muscles flex under tattooed skin as he yanks his pants down.
He doesn’t bother waiting for me. He just drops onto the mattress and sprawls back against the headboard, fist tight around his cock, stroking himself. My eyes lock on the silver barbell glinting at the head, slick and swollen, his need for me already dripping from the tip.
