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Yes, Rhode, don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop. My eyes fly open, but instead of seeing Rhode’s head buried between my thighs, the only thing greeting me is the morning sunlight slanting across the hardwood floor.
“So, how’re things with Rhode?” she blurts. I wave a hand, keeping it vague. I’m never talking to my sister about my love life again. “We’re kind of fighting right now, but he’s completely obsessed with me, so we’ll be fine.” She doesn’t need to know the sexy-as-sin hockey player is currently treating me like radioactive waste.
“I said his dick was only nine inches instead of ten. He didn’t like that.”
I’ve seen the way Isaac kisses Gwen like a reflex, but he always kissed me like an afterthought—if he ever kissed me at all.
We're off today, every last one of us, and we have been ever since I ended things with a certain woman, no—girl. The girl I can’t get out of my head. Sure, I might be attracted to a twenty-two-year-old, but I’m not going to be a dick and act on those feelings when I know it won’t go anywhere. It doesn’t matter how good she made me feel. We’re in different life stages, and I don’t want to force her to change for me. There’s no chance I’ll touch her again.
“All our luck’s run out ever since your girl ended things, Tremblay. She messing with your head?” “She’s not my girl,”
“I don’t talk about her,” I cut out, struggling in his grasp. Patty rolls his eyes. “You spent three hours in the hotel last night researching her pottery fellowship, and then telling me all the details, but sure, you don’t talk about her.”
we’ve got a real serious question for you, pretty girl.” That’s it—I can’t listen to this.
What the hell? She kissed him? Something hot and grating slithers under my skin.
“Don’t let Micah get to you. I’ve seen you play. You don’t need a good luck charm to win. You got this, Rhode.” And with that piece of encouragement, she clicks off the phone. I stare at my screen, waiting for it to light up with her name again. Now that I know she’ll be watching, my senses sharpen, each nerve buzzing as I channel the adrenaline thrumming through my veins.
“You’re in so much trouble with that one.” I grab my helmet, feeling the familiar weight in my hands. “Yeah. Don’t I fucking know it.”
and there’s Rhode, glaring down at me while gripping the doorframe like some brooding hockey god that just rolled out of bed. He’s wearing gray sweatpants hanging low, precariously low, on his hips, and he’s shirtless. My jaw falls. I blink to see if he disappears, but no, he’s still standing there with all those glorious muscles, a V on his hips that definitely leads to a naughty destination, and a dusting of silver speckled stubble across his thick pecs. He’s got a hard body custom-made for dirty fantasies, and even though I run every morning, I can’t imagine the grueling workouts they go
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DONT U DARE PUT THAT SHIRT ON
“No need to put on a shirt for me. That six-pack is better than anything I’ve had to drink.” He coughs, glancing away. “You shouldn’t be saying things like that to me, Nina.”
Nina doesn’t want to go because she doesn’t like crowds. Nina would never do this. I want to speak my mind, be bold, and try my damn hardest not to let anxiety, or anyone, control me. Rhode Tremblay, included. I shrug. “It’s what I was thinking.”
Can I please come in? I’m freezing, and I brought cat treats for Chicken since you said he hates people, and I want him to like me.” A divot forms between his brows. “You remembered my cat’s name?” “Yes. I listen to you.” Rhode’s blue eyes linger on my face, so I dangle the bag of treats. “Are you just going to stand there staring, or will you let me inside?”
AWEJWNWN😭😭😭😭😭😭
You should see my room.” “I really shouldn’t.”
“Can you make me one?” His laugh rumbles against my back. “I’m serious, Rhode. I want one.” There’s a pause. “You really want one of my shitty cross-stitches to hang up at your place?” “Absolutely. I’d ask for two, but I’m sure you don’t have a lot of extra time to cross-stitch during the season.” Glancing over my shoulder, I find a deep divot between his brows. “What is it?” “Nothing.” He shrugs. “It’s just that you’re the first person besides my mom and sister to ask me to make a cross-stitch for them.”
Bras are mini-torture chambers for my small boobs, so I never wear them.
what. WHAT
“Open the damn door!” Rhode sounds murderous, and I’d be terrified if my skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. I try to respond, but all that comes through is a quiet sob. He bangs again. Once. Twice. The door handle jiggles. “Fuck it. I’m coming inside."
“You did warn me he doesn’t like thunderstorms.” “Do you always stand up for the little guy?” He squeezes my bare shoulder, and his gentle touch is so warm, so inviting, that I lean back, seeking more of his comfort. He drops his hand.
“You barely know anything about me.” He frowns in the mirror. “I know things about you.” “Oh really? Like my first name?” “I know more than that.” He rips another alcohol swab with his teeth. The sound ignites a flicker of heat in my core. Now, I’m imagining him doing that with a condom. “I know you like peppermint tea and plants. You’re an artist. You’re doing a pottery fellowship in Argentina—” “You remembered that?” “No. I listened,” he repeats my words from earlier, hitching up a corner of his mouth. “You have a complicated relationship with your sister, but I can tell you love her. You
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“You noticed all that?” His shrug is stiff enough to creak. “I pay attention, but I’m a goalie. It’s my job to watch and observe people. Alright, you ready? This’ll burn.”
“Sorry. I know it stings,” Rhode whispers. “What can I do to make it better?” For some reason, I don’t think asking him to give me an orgasm would go over well, but that’d be a nice distraction at the moment.
“Distract me. Tell me something. Anything.”
He wants to give someone a ring, and I want to give someone a condom.
“You’re not old, and age doesn’t matter. You can be ninety and have the youngest soul, and you can be eighteen and be a crotchety curmudgeon. Stop worrying so much about what you can’t control, like your age, and show them how talented you are on the ice, because you are.”
“What?” His eyes never wander from my face. “Nothing. It’s just nice to talk to someone about all this. I have to be strong for my team, but I don’t have to fake it with you.” “You can talk to me whenever you want. I’ve got big ears, too.” “You’ve actually got really small ears.” He leans forward with a tender smile, tugging my earlobe like I’m a kid, which has me wanting to drop this sweatshirt on the floor.
The scent of him is subtle, nothing like the overpowering fragrances of other boys. Rhode Tremblay is all man. But he’s not a man because he’s assertive or strong—no, anyone can be those things. He’s all man because he’s kind and thoughtful.
“Is Phil here yet? We brought shit for fish tacos, and Patty-Daddy brought a fuckton of blubes for Betty!” “Stop cursing in front of my daughter. She’s about to say her first words any day.”
lmfao 😭
The blond guy with an adorable baby strapped to his chest slaps one hand over his eyes, and the other over the baby’s.
oh 🧎♀️
leaving Nina to finish changing in private. I need to get out of there because being that close to her is making it hard to breathe.
I’m still angry with my cat for scratching her back, but a twisted part of me likes that I was the one to patch her up. What kind of man does that make me?
It definitely smells like my sweat, but I don’t want Nina to smell like Ocean Breeze laundry detergent—I want her to smell like me. I’m worse than an animal, apparently, marking her with my scent like I’ve got some claim on her when I don’t.
“Did I tell you about the suction on this girl’s mouth from the other night? Unreal. I clogged up her vocal cords, but she kept on going like a fucking plunger.”
I NEED THIS MANS BOOK RIGHT NOW PLS
“You know, sometimes, you should think about the things you’re going to say before you say them.” “But then I’d never say them.” Cruz tosses up a chip and opens his mouth. “That’s the point.”
I can’t play with her, unless… you want her?” “I don’t want her,” I lie, like that will convince my brain. “I deep-throatedly disagree with that comment,” Cruz says.
I CANT WITH THIS MAN
we snap our heads to find Nina striding out of the bathroom in my massive sweatshirt that goes to her thighs. Some feral part of me purrs like my cat at the sight of her wearing my clothes. I like that image a little too much.
If he calls her pretty girl all night, I’m shoving that entire bag of chips down his throat.
“You know, in brighter lighting, you kind of look old enough to be her dad, Tremblay.” I give him the finger. He’s being an ass, but I don’t like it.
okay shut ur bitch ass up
“Don’t be a d-i-c-k.” “Yeah, don’t be an asshole. Rhode’s only thirty-three. That’s young.” Nina drops onto the wooden barstool next to me, squeezing my shoulder. I should pull away, but I don’t. I like how her touch feels.
Glaring at him, I grip the leg of the stool and pull her closer to my side, so Cruz gets the point. The loud, slow scrape echoes through my apartment. Chicken scatters across the rug. Even Betty quirks her little head at the noise. Nina pushes her gold glasses up her nose. “Was that really necessary?” “It was very necessary.” I keep my eyes on Cruz, whose lips curve in a dare.
“Nina, meet my daughter, Elizabeth, but we call her Betty because Patty and Betty is the stuff daddy-daughter dance competitions are made of. She’s eight months, twelve days, and fourteen hours old, loves blueberries, and she finally smiles when you make eye contact with her. Watch.” He plays peek-a-boo, and Betty starts giggling. “She also does more than cry and shit now, so that’s fun,” Cruz adds.
AHSHEJEHEH MY OVARIES 😭😩
she sort of called Patty adorable. He is, but fuck, I don’t want Nina thinking that about my friends.
I hated Cruz at first—” “Dick.” “Language,” Patty shouts. “But Cruz writes everyone on the team handwritten cards for their birthdays, so now he’s alright. Why should Betty have to be all friendly? My girl’s allowed to be a little mean.”
😭😭😭😭😭😭
“Come on, please? No one ever comes to my games,” he says, getting on his knees and clasping his hands in front of her. “I’ll do anything. Anything.” “She said no,” I interject in a hard voice, hating seeing Cruz on his knees for Nina. She smiles at me, but then turns back to Cruz, giving him an exasperated look. “Can I think about it?” “Sure, as long as you come.” Cruz winks in my direction. “To the game, I mean.”
If I have to listen to him make sexual innuendos all night, I’m going to lose my shit.
keep them coming cruz
I try to remind myself that it doesn’t matter that I’ll never find out if Nina tastes like cinnamon, or that every time she tucks her hair behind her ear, I get jealous of her fingers. That’s lust. Those are physical feelings that will go away when I find the right woman—someone who wants the same things as me. After the event, I need to get Nina out of my head because I can’t live feeling like I’m about to snap at any moment. I’m trying to do the right thing here, be a good guy, but damn, it’s tough.
stop gaslighting urself pls ur killing me
“There’s nothing wrong with a girl who’s got a dirty mouth,” Nina says. Great. Now I’m thinking about what words would come out of that dirty mouth.
“And you don’t have to come. I got this.” She peers at me with those big, beautiful eyes. “I want to help.”
“Nothing. You just look like a natural. You’re going to make someone very happy one day, Rhode.”
stawp it (it’s u)
