“Fuck the patriarchy!” I raise my glass and clink it against Lexie’s.
“Speaking of fucking…” Kayla turns to me, amused. “Why don’t we call you an Uber so you can go home and get some hockey player birthday cock?”
I nearly choke on my gin and tonic. “You came all this way to see me. I am not about to ditch you for a man.” I dab the alcohol from my lips with a napkin. “What kind of friend do you think I am?”
“The kind who deserves to get dicked down on her birthday.” Lexie shrugs. “Consider it our gift. And by ‘our’ gift, I mean that if you do all of your screwing while we’re at the club, we won’t have to hear it when we get back to your place tonight.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “You don’t even know your way around the city.”
Kayla snorts. “And you do?”
Fair point. I haven’t exactly made a habit of club-hopping.
“Babe.” Kayla grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Don’t worry about us. Go get it in with that big sexy hockey player.”
I bite my lip, thinking it over. It feels wrong, but…I’d much rather spend the night with Knox than in a dark, overcrowded club. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” they say in unison.
I pull out my phone and text Knox.
Me: My bed. 30 minutes.
26
KNOX
Ava’s bedroomdoor is cracked when I arrive, and the soft glow of her bedside lamp spills out into the hall. I thought I was seeing things when her text popped up on my phone, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Do I feel guilty that she cut her night out short? Yes, but I’m thrilled to spend time with her.
If that makes me an asshole, so be it.
I push the bedroom door open, andho-ly fuck.
Ava is stretched out on the bed wearing her Beach Olympics medal and nothing else.
My cock swells, growing painfully hard as I drink her in, memorizing every dip and swell from the tips of her bright pink toenails to the dark curls that are spread out over the pillows.
I don’t know what I did to deserve Ava, but I’ll never take her—or these private moments—for granted.
“Hey, birthday girl.”
“Hey yourself.”
She grins, and there’s a softness to her features that has my inner-caveman desperately screamingmine.
I drop my bag and peel off my shirt, tossing it on the floor as I cross to the bed. “Nice medal.”
“This old thing?” She lifts it from her bare breasts and inspects it. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to earn it.”
I chuckle. “It could’ve been worse. You could’ve ended up with a flamingo tattooed on your ass.”
She drops the medal. “True, but I would have made it look good.”
“You make everything look good.” I shove my joggers down, freeing my cock. It’s long and thick, and I fist myself, letting her see exactly what she does to me.
Her eyes go wide and she licks her lips, her tongue gliding over the soft pink flesh.