My lips parted in surprise as Chase slid his hand from my elbow and rested it on my lower back. He pulled me closer, turning me to face him. Behind the anger in his eyes was something softer—tenderness mingled with desire.
“Because he’s messing with you.”
“It’s only messing with me if I let it bother me,” I said. “Besides, anyone who actually matters would know it’s a lie.”
Maybe I should have been upset, but it was more ridiculous than anything. Especially when I had pages worth of late-night texts from Luke asking if he could come over to “talk,” followed by my responses repeatedly shooting him down. I had no shortage of receipts proving that post was bullshit, but I didn’t feel the need to prove it in the first place.
Plus, I was more than a little distracted at the moment. Chase’s hand was still on my back, his scent enveloping me. The closeness of our bodies was exponentially more exciting, both physically and emotionally, than any text messages ever could be.
“Still.” He shook his head, gaze dropping back to his phone. His face clouded over like he was going to rain down his wrath on the next person unfortunate enough to cross him. “I’m going to flatten him on the ice.”
I touched his chest. “Carter.”
He lifted his head. Our eyes locked, and something clicked into place inside me. His expression relaxed, shifting from murderous into a sullen pout.
“You can if you want to. But I’m fine,” I said, flattening my palms against his black T-shirt. His heart pounded against my hands, strong and steady. “Really.”
Besides, if happiness was the best revenge, then I was 100 percent winning right now.
“I still don’t like it,” Chase grumbled. He locked his phone and slid it into his back pocket. Then he pivoted both of our bodies, coming to stand in front of me with the dining table at my back.
My breath snagged as he rested his hands on my sides, his large fingers spanning my hips. He drew in a breath and ducked his head to catch my gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice gentle. “Didn’t mean to lose my shit. Believe it or not, I hardly ever do.”
“It’s okay.” I braced my hands on his biceps, stroking lightly with my thumbs. His muscles were taut beneath the warmth of his smooth skin.
He regarded me for a long moment. “Do you want to get back to the party?”
Did I? Not really. A dark, quiet room with him was infinitely more appealing. Especially with the way things were heading right now.
I shrugged, biting back a smile. “I’m not in a big rush.”
Chase’s expression shifted, turning hungry, predatory. “Me neither.”
He slipped his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers digging into my bare skin, and pulled me against him. Anticipation flooded my body. Angling low, he inched closer until our mouths were almost touching. Almost. Then he lingered, teasing. Waiting for me to close the space between us. I inhaled, taking in his scent, the heat of his body so close, then I tilted my head, and our lips came together, instantly melting into a deep kiss.
A whimper escaped from the back of my throat as his tongue brushed against mine, pushing deeper into my mouth. He caressed my jaw, then moved his hand to my nape. Gripping the roots of my hair, he secured my head in place and moved his mouth against mine, deepening the kiss until I was completely lost in him.
A wave of desire unlike anything I’d ever experienced crashed over me. It was heady and intoxicating, relentless and persistent, growing stronger with every sweep of his tongue.
I slid my hands to his lower back, palms resting on the stacks of lean muscle. Drawing in a jagged breath, Chase grabbed the backs of my thighs and set me on the tabletop. Then he nudged my knees apart and positioned himself between my legs until our bodies were flush, creating a delicious hint of friction where we touched.
Heat pooled between my legs, wanting and needing, as he pressed against me. I took his bottom lip between my teeth, and a low rumble emanated from his chest. He skimmed my bare stomach with his fingertips, tracing the waistband of my jeans, and a pulse settled between my thighs.
In the background, laughter spilled out from in the living room, snapping me back into the present. I’d all but forgotten where we were.
We broke apart, breathless. My heart roared in my ears.
He shook his head, voice husky. “You’re killing me, James.”
“Why’s that?” I whispered.
Chase lowered his head, planting a row of kisses down my neck. “Because I don’t want to stop. But if I keep kissing you,” he murmured against my skin, “I won’t be fit to be around other people for a good, long while.”
He pulled back and smoothed my hair with a playful grin. “Later, it’ll be a different story.”
After some distraction in the form of our impromptu make-out session, food, and video games, Chase’s mood improved significantly. But I did kick his ass at NHL again—and Dallas’s.
Chase and Tyler thought it was hilarious. Siobhan was stifling giggles, or at least attempting to. And Dallas was furious, which only added to our collective amusement.
“Ooh, want some cream for that burn?” Tyler laughed, taking a swig of his beer. “She schooled you both.”
“How?” Dallas threw the white game controller onto the empty leather armchair beside him, slapping his leg. He turned to Chase and me, throwing a hand in the air. “Like, what just happened?”
Chase shrugged, giving me a lazy grin. “I’m pretty sure she’s a wizard.”
“That’s what happens when you grow up with three older brothers.”
“Rematch,” Dallas declared, picking up the controller again. He navigated back into the main menu and opened the settings. “The game is rigged,” he muttered, squinting at the screen. “Something’s wrong with it.”
From the armchair, Siobhan rolled her eyes, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, Dal.”
“It’s okay to lose sometimes, Ward.” Tyler propped his legs on the ottoman, not even attempting to hide his grin.
Dallas shook his head. “I never lose.”
“Actually, I’m getting tired.” I stifled a yawn, wondering if Chase would come to bed when I did, or if he would stay up with his friends like Luke always had.
Chase shot me a glance. “Want to call it a night?”
“I think so.”
He set the game controller on the glass coffee table and stood, stretching his arms. His black T-shirt hiked up, revealing a sliver of washboard stomach that I did my best to ignore. Though after being pressed up against him earlier, I already knew his abs were spec-tac-u-lar.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good too. Let’s go.”
At that, tiny fireworks erupted low in my belly. We were going to bed—together.
I pushed off the couch and stood up, then made my way out of the room with Chase following close behind.
“Later, losers,” he said to the guys as we headed up the staircase. “See ya, Shiv.”
“This isn’t over, James,” Dallas called. “I want a rematch tomorrow.”
Chase laughed, the rumble low and deep in his chest. We started up the stairs, and he put a warm hand on my lower back, leaning in to murmur in my ear. “You do know Ward is going to stay up all night playing now, right?”