I let them fade into the background because Nathan’s ahead of me and I’m not exactly proud of the fact that I’ve been watching the way his ass moves for the last ten minutes.
He’s got this focused look on his face, his jaw clenched and brows knitted together as he locks in on the game.
Meanwhile, I’m replaying the other night on a loop. The way he grabbed me and kissed the hell out of me like he couldn’t wait anymore makes my stomach drop every time I think about it. I should probably focus on not eating shit on this next turn, but honestly, I’m too busy grinning like a dumbass.
I keep pace with Nathan, skating a lazy loop just to stay close. It’s not subtle, but subtle has never been my thing. He looks so fucking good. Red-faced from practice, and all I can think about whenever I look at him is the way he sounded with my mouth on his cock.
It’s been a week and we haven’t even kissed since. It’s not exactly easy when we live with two guys who always have their girlfriends around.
So yeah, I bump his hip because I want his eyes on me. “Nice ass, Hayes.”
He shoots me a warning look. “Logan.”
Naturally, I press my luck and loop around him, grabbing a handful of said ass.
His eyes go wide for half a second, scanning the rink. “Cut it out,” he grits out.
“Why?” I grin, pushing him a little. “Am I distracting you?”
“Yes,” he breathes out. “And we’re not alone.”
I shoot a look over my shoulder, just in time to spot Miles, one of the rookies, skating our way.Shit.
Miles coasts up, that shit-eating grin on his face, clearly having seen more than I’d like. “Should I give you two a minute?”
For a split second, my brain just blanks and I catch Nathan’s panicked expression. Can’t have that, so I do what I do best.
I bark a laugh and play it off. “You jealous, rookie?” I throw an arm around Miles’s shoulders, steering him away from Nathan. “Just ask if you want a kiss that bad.”
He snorts, tries to wiggle out of my grip. “In your dreams, Gray.”
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” I shoot back, throwing him a wink.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Nathan skating away. I’m guessing the panic has settled which is good. Let them think I’m just messing around, same as always.
When practice wraps up, the guys all head into the locker room and I follow without glancing back at Nathan, not wanting to give the guys any more suspicions.
I push through the door, tug off my helmet, and drop onto the bench, still catching my breath. I get to work on my gear, wanting to get into a steaming-hot shower, and lift my eyes to see Nathan with his head down, unlacing his skates.
He looks up just long enough to meet my eyes, his hand stalling on his laces for a second, but instead of holding my gaze, he looks away.
I frown. The hell was that?
He goes back to untying his skates like I’m not even here which just pisses me off. I know I was pushing it on the ice, being too obvious. But I covered it up. I made them laugh and completely threw them off. So why is he acting like I just handed the guys polaroids of us making out?
Someone whips a rolled up sock across the room and it hits me in the shoulder. Fucking rookies. They’re snickering, and I flip them off without missing a beat, which only makes them laugh harder as they shove their gear into their bags and stumble out, their voices echoing down the hallway.
The locker room empties out as most of the guys head out. Afternoon practice usually means everyone wants to shower at home.
Cole’s still here, though—quiet, in the corner. He doesn’t say a word, barely glancing at anyone. Typical.
I look over at Nathan’s cubby, but his spot’s empty. His bag is unzipped, his gear stuffed inside and I realize he headed into the shower.
For a second, I think about just packing my shit and heading out, letting him cool off, giving us both a breather.
But who am I kidding? Patience has never been my thing, especially not when he’s involved.
So I strip down, stuffing my gear into my stall, trying not to look like I’m in a rush even though my pulse says otherwise. I toss a towel over my shoulder, push a hand through my hair as I walk past Cole, and head toward the showers.