Hades: Fingers, then toy. And let me watch.
Tinker Bell: Can’t. sad emoji Everyone will be home tonight.
Damnit, she’s right. Dallas said he has some test to study for and Chase is finishing a paper. Why can’t they go do their work at the library like everyone else? Maybe I can convince them it’s a good idea; plant the seed somehow. Wishful thinking, I’m sure.
Hades: FaceTime me, then.
Tinker Bell: Only if you’re a good boy.
Hades: If it means I get to watch you make yourself come, I’ll be a fucking saint.
“Ended your dry spell, huh?” Chase remarks from behind me.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I lock my phone, whipping around to face him.
“What?” Did he see my screen? He’s like, six feet away. That’s not close enough to read such small text, is it?
“The scratch marks on your back?” He gestures at me like it should be obvious. Behind him, Dallas’s eyes widen, and he turns away, pretending to be busy with his gear. “They’re all over, dude.”
Scratch marks? I have no idea what he’s talking about. Craning my neck, I twist to look over my shoulder. Sure enough, there are a handful of red, raised streaks trailing along each side of my spine. I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t feel Sera do it.
Didn’t realize how long I’d been standing here staring at my phone, either. I’m still in my street clothes, and nearly everyone else is dressed.
“Oh, right. I forgot about those.”
At least he has no way of knowing who made them.
Chase sits on the bench and reaches for his skates. “Speaking of that, Sera”—I nearly stroke out as his mention of her name—“is staying at Abby’s while we’re gone, so you’ll have the place all to yourself. You know, for you and whoever.”
Wait… what? She’s staying at Abby’s while Chase and Dallas are away? Why?
It’s a given I’d like the opportunity to fuck her without anyone else home. Beyond that, I hate the idea of her spending an entire weekend with that so-called friend. Between her losing track of Sera at that party and interrupting us the next day, Abby has earned a permanent spot on my shit list. Sera deserves so much better than that kind of treatment—but for some reason, she doesn’t seem to see it.
I run my thumb along the button on the side of my case, debating whether I should text and ask her what the deal is. Is it even any of my business? Before I can decide, my phone vibrates in my hand.
Tinker Bell: BTW, I told my brother I’m staying at Abby’s this weekend.
Hades: But you aren’t?
Tinker Bell: Not a chance, silly.
Thank fuck. The only thing on my to-do list this weekend is her.
With that settled, I give my head a figurative shake and hurriedly yank on my gear in an attempt to catch up to the rest of the team. It’s more obvious if I’m late than it is with the other players. Coach Miller won’t bag skate me, but he will tear me a new one.
Ezra Jameson saunters over to us and lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “Your sister is a dime, Carter.”
I stop cold, glancing up from tying from my skates. Dallas fastens his shoulder pad and silently mouths, “Here we go.” I’m not sure whether he’s more concerned about my reaction or Chase’s.
Chase’s dark eyes narrow, but he says nothing. Just glowers at Ezra. As a senior defenseman, Ezra could easily hold his own against the average player. At six-foot-three and one of the league’s most intimidating athletes, Chase would clobber him.
Pretending to be disinterested, I reach into my cubby for the rest of my equipment.
“I mean, respectfully.” Ezra reaches up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Would it be okay if I asked her out?”
No, it fucking wouldn’t.
The protest comes from inside my head, not Chase’s mouth. Waiting for him to voice the same sentiment out loud, I fasten the buckles running the length of my left pad.
To my surprise, he merely shrugs and tips back his water bottle, swallowing. “All good, man.”
It’s like sandpaper against my brain.
I grit my teeth and look down, mentally kicking myself. Regardless of what happened between us last night, it’s not like I have some claim to Seraphina.
“Really?” Ezra studies him warily.
“Sure,” Chase says, his expression unreadable. “I know how to hide a body.”
Ezra laughs uneasily, but it dies on his lips when Chase doesn’t do the same.
“Noted.” He tosses him a salute and retreats to his corner of the dressing room.
“Carter.” Dallas nudges Chase with his elbow, lowering his voice. “I know you want to protect Sera, but you’ve got to let her live her life too.”
“Ezra is the kind of dude who’d rather die than commit to someone, Ward. I don’t want him within ten feet of my sister. Sera deserves someone who will treat her like a princess, not string her along.”
This doesn’t bode well for me, but I also don’t think everything is as black and white as Chase makes it out to be. Commitment can take different forms. Even if we’re not in a relationship, it’s not like I have any intention of sleeping with anyone else. If Sera and I are on the same page about what we’re doing, that’s all that matters. Right?
Somehow, I doubt he’d agree.
It’s been a long fucking day. Off-ice training, classes, team practice, goalie coaching. Now it’s time for the figurative cookie I’ve been waiting for: phone sex.
When I walk in the door after my evening training, Chase and Dallas are sitting in the living room playing Call of Duty. The volume is turned up ear-splittingly high, which I suppose is a bonus in this case. It’ll help muffle any sounds Seraphina makes while she gives me the best private show of my life.
There’s a huge explosion on-screen and Dallas curses into the microphone. “Fuck you, Holloway.”
Chase steals a glance at me, still shooting. “Hey, man.”
Guilt sparks in the back of my mind. It’s a little hard to look him in the face knowing I’m about to go jerk off to his sister.
I’d be lying if I said the whole secret thing wasn’t hot, though. That’s probably a little fucked up on my part, but it is what it is.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be doing homework?” I ask him.
“Yeah, but what are you gonna do?” He leans forward on the couch, squinting to concentrate as he aims a rocket launcher. “You want in?”
“Thanks, but I’m good. Still need to shower.” Sometimes, when the Boyd U ice is booked, Mark and I train at another municipal arena. It’s a lot older than our school’s facilities, and not nearly as clean. Ice is still ice, but the dressing rooms are gross.
I take the stairs two at a time and strip down in the bathroom. Like a creep, I snag Sera’s bottle of shampoo off the shelf and sniff it while the water heats up. The tropical scent invades my nostrils, and my cock stirs impatiently. God help me, I’ll never be able to smell coconut without getting turned on again.
It’s one of the quickest showers I’ve ever taken, efficient and to the point. I wash my hair and scrub myself down in record time, then turn off the water. Stepping out of the shower, I towel off my hair before wrapping it around my waist. Through the steam, my gaze falls to my phone on the counter. There are three missed calls from my father. It’s unusual for him to call more than once. I’m tempted to ignore him but thinking better of it, opt to call him back.