Iced Out: A Rival’s Sister Hockey Romance (Heston U Hotshots Book 1) -
Iced Out: A Rival’s Sister Hockey Romance – Chapter 7
It’s after ten by the time we migrate from the bar back to the hockey house.
Laurel hangs off my arm, huddling against me for warmth since she showed up without a jacket. I didn’t invite her, but she came with a friend who is dating a senior D-man. She’s hovered around me all night, staking her claim to the other girls at the bar I guess. I don’t know, I’ve mostly tried to ignore what was going down.
I should’ve seen it coming when the guys decided to take the party home that she’d tag along, probably thinking she’s ending the night getting dicked down.
“Shut up, shut up.” Theo laughs on his way up the steps to the house, tipping sideways when he goes for the phone in his pocket. “Keller and my sister are calling.”
Cameron keeps him upright while opening the door. “Night’s not over yet. This party’s still going strong.”
His declaration is met with cheers. Half the people who returned to the house with us head for the living room. I follow Theo into the kitchen along with Cameron, crowding around Theo’s side to join in on the video call. Laurel tags along. She hasn’t let me out of her sight all night.
“What’s up, man?” Cameron asks.
I lean in with an easy grin. “Hey guys. Is the Calder trophy as sweet as it looks in photos?“
“Even better. He let me touch it. NHL rookie of the year, calling me on my birthday? I must be special, or something, huh?” Theo grins at his screen where Alex Keller and his girl, Lainey huddle close for the FaceTime call. “And same goes for you, I guess.”
“Happy birthday, dickhead.” Lainey sticks her tongue out.
“Back at you,” he says to his twin sister.
Keller snorts. “Like I wasn’t going to call my best friend. I didn’t forget, I just had to make sure my beautiful girl got a special night first.”
He turns the phone to show the rooftop view with an intimate table set for two against the New York skyline. The camera pans to Lainey. She looks amazing in a silver slinky dress. Her cheeks turn pink.
“Alex.” She hides behind him.
“You look gorgeous, baby,” Keller says.
Theo pretends to puke. He pulls a face, snorting at himself. “What’s the rule? No details. Ever.”
“Did you go out to Dad’s?” Lainey peeks around Keller.
“Yeah, we just got back from The Landmark,” I say. “We’re missing our private kitchen mini-parties without you.”
“God, I’d kill for a fun night of pizza rolls and ranch dip right now. Grad school is intense,” Lainey says.
“What?” Keller’s dopey ass smile falls. “But we do that whenever I have off. I wanted to make tonight special.”
She pats his chest, then locks her arms around him for a hug. “No, this is amazing. I’m just reminiscing. Can you believe the nerd is the one missing the hockey house parties?”
He laughs. “I told you a hundred times that divide is only in your head.”
“This is really bringing back memories,” Theo says. “You know what? I don’t miss having both of you here. My eyes and ears aren’t assaulted anymore having to watch my best friend mack on my sister.”
“Tough shit because we’re still getting married,” Keller says with a smirk. “I’m spending forever macking on the love of my life.”
“Aww,” Laurel says. “That’s so cute.”
“I don’t need this. It’s my birthday.” Theo shakes his head with a smile. He gives them hell, but he’s happy for them. He hands us his phone and heads off. “Later!”
“Bye!” Lainey laughs. “We’ll let you guys go. It was good to talk to you!”
“You too. Happy birthday,” I say.
“Thank you.”
Cameron ends the call and tucks Theo’s phone in the basket of keys by the door. “Beer?”
“Yes, please,” Laurel says.
“I’m good. Practice in the morning.”
We follow the victorious shouts coming from the living room. Sounds like Elijah is kicking ass against Madden on the PlayStation. Laurel pulls me away from watching them play the latest NHL game, and we wind up in the back room where we like to chill around an electric heater when it’s too cold out to leave the closed in sunroom for the fire pit in the yard.
Seeing how happy Alex and Lainey are has struck a chord with me. I never thought I’d want to be tied down, but now…maybe I wouldn’t mind it if I found the right person.
Everyone’s having a good time while my mind is back at the grocery store with Maya’s hand tucked into mine. I stare at my hand sitting on the armrest, closing it around nothing. I have no idea what it is, but this girl has gotten under my skin.
The same thought keeps popping into my head that hasn’t stopped for the last two weeks: I want to see her again.
“Oh my god.” Laurel giggles, nudging me. “Everyone in here is making out. I’m actually pretty sure Kelly is getting fingered over there by Jake. Should we show them all how it’s done, captain?”
I frown. Her calling me captain sounds way off.
When I don’t respond, she exhales through her nose and shifts onto my lap. Her lashes flutter as she slides her arms around my shoulders and brushes my cheek with her lips. I don’t make any move to touch her, gaze remaining on my hand.
It occurs to me that this would be a normal night for me not that long ago. Whenever an opportunity to get laid presented itself, I let loose and enjoyed it. I wasn’t sleazy about it the way some guys are once they realize how much people want to bag a hockey player for bragging rights. How easy it is to fall into bed with someone—or more than one someone—each night and this isn’t even the pro league yet.
Here I am with a smoking hot girl in front of me, flirting with me all night, and I don’t care at all.
I’m not interested in anything with her or anyone else when I can’t stop picturing captivating hazel eyes with flecks of green like the meadow behind the house I grew at, thick chestnut hair I want to spend hours running my fingers through, and perfect lips that form sarcastic quips and a smile that is quickly becoming my undoing.
“Let’s go replace somewhere more private,” Laurel whispers seductively in my ear. “I’ve been wet all night thinking about getting you in my mouth. No one’s looking. Slide your hand up my dress to replace out how much I’m dying to blow you. I want to choke on your cock until your come drips down my chin.”
Jesus.
Yeah, no. Not a single twitch of interest in my dick, despite the filthy description of the scenario she offers.
The old me would be all over that, but I need to stop her right there because I don’t want any of it. Her hair is the wrong shade of brown and her face shape is different from Maya’s. She’s hot as fuck. We had fun once upon a time, but she’s not the girl for me because she’s not the person I can’t stop thinking about.
I ease her off my lap and get up. She hurries to follow me to the foot of the stairs, smothering an eager giggle. I block the way up, bracing my forearm against the wall.
“You know the rule. No sleepovers.”
Laurel’s inviting smile falters. “I know.” She traces her nails down my chest. “It’s not your bedtime yet. We can have fun, superstar.”
I gently wrap my fingers around her wrist to stop her from clawing my zipper down in the freaking entryway. “No thanks. I’m not interested. Do you need me to get you an Uber?”
“What?” Laurel blinks at me in disbelief.
Sighing, I nod to the hall leading back to the living room. “Hang out if you want. Hell, replace another guy. I’m heading up to bed.” I hold up a hand when she makes to join me. “No, Laurel. I’m going alone. I don’t think me and you will ever happen again.”
“Find someone else? What are you saying, Easton?”
Shit, her eyes begin to shine with tears. “I’m saying I’m not interested in anything with you. Not anymore. I’m sorry.”
I watch several emotions play out on her features, evolving from rejection to annoyance, wary of how she’ll react. Finally, she huffs and pulls out a lip gloss from her small purse.
“You should’ve said something sooner. I wouldn’t have wasted my time shoving my boobs against you all night if it wasn’t leading anywhere, asshole. Fuck this, I’m going to get Theo to rail me after I give him a strip tease for his birthday.”
She flips her hair and strides away to replace Boucher. I stand on the bottom step, blinking. Shaking my head, I go upstairs to my room and lock the door behind me.
“Good for her,” I mutter.
It’s been a long ass day, but seeing the black and white cat sitting at my window makes me smile. The stray climbs to the roof of the wraparound porch every night and waits for me.
She paces in front of the window as I open it. With a happy meow in greeting, she enters the room and hops on my bed, curling up like she owns the place. The landlord the college rents the house from for the team would shit a brick if he found out I let her in my room. He’s already given me an earful on loop since freshman year when I started feeding her and sitting on the porch to brush her until her coat gleamed.
I probably should think of a name for her other than stray, kit-cat, and my pretty lady. Some of the guys have their own names for her. Keller used to call her Casper for her ability to sneak up on him before he went pro and left Heston early to play for the Islanders.
After closing the window to keep out the chill, I sprawl on the bed. Kit-cat doesn’t take long to demand my attention by sniffing my arm and kneading my shoulder. My worries drift away for the time being, eased by the comfort of petting her soft fur.
“We should give you a name. A real one.” Her nails prick into me as I rattle off some options. “Luna, because you’re always out all night. Or what about Princess Potato? Okay, ow. You don’t like that one. No need to attack my hand with your love bites, jesus.”
I wriggle my fingers to play with her for a few minutes, dragging my hand in quick movements across the sheets for her to hunt before she calms down again. I skim my knuckles along her back, then massage her ears.
“I think I’m in over my head.” All I get in response is a continuous purr while the cat leans into my palm for more petting. “There’s this girl. Maya. I think I really like her, which is new for me. It’s impossible for me to stop thinking about her.”
Kit-cat settles on my chest, curling into a crescent-shaped weight keeping me in place. Within moments, she’s dozing. I can’t move or I’ll wake her up—those are the rules when it comes to pets sleeping on you.
It’s not like I’m in the mood to go back downstairs anyway.
Pulling out my phone, I open Instagram and search for Maya. I replace her on the third try after skimming through two other Maya Donnelly accounts. The latest photo is one with her brother from the night we met, taken before the game against Elmwood.
Another surprisingly familiar face jumps out—Reagan. I didn’t know they were friends since I’ve never seen Maya around The Landmark on nights I’m there. Has Reagan mentioned her? She must have, right? I’m kicking myself for missing out when I could’ve known her sooner.
My thumb hovers over the screen. I could ask, but Reagan might be suspicious if I come on too strong with everything I want to know about her friend out of the blue. For now, I hold myself over with glimpses of her life through her social media.
Maya’s feisty personality shines in her posts. She makes silly faces. Dances around with Reagan. Hugs an old man with the biggest smile I’ve seen on her yet. I pause on a shot from the summer where she’s on the quad by the dorms giving the viewer a sultry smirk, holding a dandelion over one of her eyes. In every photo, I feel her love of life.
I breathe in sharply when I scroll down. “Yoga pants. Fucking hell.”
My dick wakes right up, thickening as I admire the snug fit over her curvy thighs and ass. My fingers twitch with the need to grab her legs and wrap them around my hips to feel them quivering while I fuck her.
Shit, I need to calm down. It feels too weird to jerk off when my cat’s cuddling with me. I run through hockey drills in my head until my erection is gone.
Kit-cat cracks her eyes open to peer at me.
I resist the urge to cover my face. “Don’t judge me like that.”
The yoga pants photo has a geotagged location on it. Merrywood Farms. Curious, I click on it. The map shows a local address for Heston Lake, along with a stream of photos tagged at the same place of people riding horses and stretching on yoga mats in a pavilion surrounded by goats. Maya’s photo is there a few more times posted from other accounts than her own.
I Google the farm and replace the website offers bookings for a bunch of activities. I save the form for goat yoga to show coach after tomorrow’s practice.
If she doesn’t want to hang out in my world, I just need to get her to see me in hers so she’ll give us a shot.
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