James leaned in, his chin resting on his palm like he’d been waiting for some sort of drama. “Who’s that?”I held up the screen for him to see, the name COACH bold and annoyingly judgmental.“The coach,” I muttered, already feeling the buzz of alcohol begin to evaporate. “Didn’t know the fuck he wants to nag about now.”James chuckled, lifting his glass. “Maybe he wants to congratulate you for finally learning to pass the puck.”I flipped him off without looking. “That was one goddamn time.”“You screamed at a freshman,” he reminded me. “In practice.”“He skated into me!”“He skated past you.”“Aggressively.”James just snorted and waved a hand, like he was done trying to convince me I was the problem. I stared at my phone again. The damn thing was still ringing, vibrating on the sticky bar table like it was trying to rattle out of existence.“You gonna pick up?” James asked.I stared at it for another second. My instincts screamed to ignore it. I was in a good mood. I’d just spent th
CAPTAIN ~“You look awfully happy,” James said, squinting at me over the rim of his glass like I’d just told him I won the lottery. His brows pulled together in that suspicious way he always did when he was fishing for drama.I shrugged and sipped my drink. Whiskey. Neat. Warm and sharp on my tongue, just the way I liked it.“Something good happened,” I said simply.That was putting it mildly. I didn’t just have a good day—I had the day. I finally got what I wanted. And fuck, the memory of Andrew moaning my name, all flushed and needy beneath me, was enough to have me grinning like an idiot. But no way in hell I was telling James that. The last thing I needed was his nosy ass running his mouth or, worse, teasing me for the next three months.James leaned back in his chair, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he rolled his eyes dramatically and groaned. “Well, lucky you. Meanwhile, my life’s gone to absolute shit.”I snorted and raised a brow. “What now?”He sighed like
I didn’t even realize I was nodding off again until the shrill vibration of my phone buzzed angrily against the couch cushion.I blinked, jerking slightly upright, heart jumping in that mild-panic way it always does when a sudden sound slices through silence. My fingers scrambled for the phone, thumb sliding across the screen to answer even before I checked who it was.“Hello?” My voice came out rough, still scratchy from sleep and last night’s activities.There was a slight pause on the other end. Then a voice—low, professional, maybe too calm for my liking—asked, “Is this Andrew Parker?”I froze for half a second, instantly more awake.“Uh… yeah. This is Andrew,” I said, slowly sitting straighter. My muscles protested the movement, a dull ache spreading down my spine. “Who’s this?”“This is the police, We’d like to speak with you regarding a matter of some importance,” the voice replied, not offering a name, which immediately raised about twenty red flags in my brain.I frowned. “Re
I felt the shift in the air before I could even process what I’d said.“No,” I mumbled, eyes glued to the crumpled sandwich wrapper in my lap. “I don’t regret it.”The words sat there, heavy and naked in the space between us.A confession that sounded louder than it should’ve been, even though I barely whispered it. Like the truth had peeled out of my throat before I had the chance to wrap it in humor or sarcasm or anything that could've softened the blow.And now it was just… there.Hanging.I peeked up through my lashes, unable to stop myself. Captain wasn’t saying anything. Not right away.He was just looking at me.Not like he did in class, or across the hall, or that first night we met in that shitty bar with all the neon and noise. Not with arrogance or condescension or that practiced smirk that made people either want to punch him or kiss him—or, in my case, both.No, this look was different.This one was soft. Unraveling.And there it was—the corners of his mouth twitching, li
ANDREW ~ I didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment I was curled up on the couch, the air still heavy with the ghost of Captain’s cologne. The next, everything was different. Quiet. Too quiet. In the dream, I stood in the middle of the hospital hallway. It was bright and sterile in that way hospitals always were. The air smelled like antiseptic and lemon-scented floor polish, and the walls hummed with a low electrical buzz. I knew this hallway. I’d walked it a hundred times. A thousand, maybe. But it felt different now—like time had paused and every sound had been swallowed up. My sneakers didn’t even make a sound on the tile. I kept walking, unsure why my legs moved but letting them carry me all the same. Down the familiar corridor, past the nurses' station. A room number pulled me in like a magnet. Room 312. I pushed the door open. There she was. Sitting up in bed. My mother. She looked exactly like she had before the accident—maybe a little younger. Her
CAPTAIN ~I pulled back from Andrew, and for a second I just stared at him, my breath heavy, my fingers still curled at his sides. Andrew’s face was flushed. His eyes flicked up to mine, dark and heavy with something I knew too fucking well: want.But I stopped anyway. Stopped cold.I watched as his expression shifted—confusion at first, then disappointment. His shoulders dropped just a little, like he was trying to hide it, but I saw.And I don’t know what it says about me—maybe that I’m an asshole—but seeing that little flash of disappointment in his eyes was weirdly satisfying. It was like proof, in real fucking time, that he wanted me. That he wasn’t playing games anymore.My lips curled up into a smirk, and I let my thumb trace along his hard dick. “What?” I asked softly, my voice low and a little rough. “Disappointed already?”He opened his mouth, then shut it again. His eyes darted away from mine for a second, like he didn’t know how to answer.I let out a quiet chuckle, shaki