Celebrating

Ryker POV

Sitting in the bar, I watch as the guys celebrate the win, not just mine but Jaxon’s as well. We’ve seen the scores, they did amazing. Everyone else watched it on their phones and thought it was flawless.

It wasn’t. I saw the slight slip, the quick adjustment, and I know how close Jaxon came to dropping Erin. Sure, he didn’t, and I should go easy on him for it, but that doesn’t change the fact of what could have happened.

“You’re really not that fun tonight,” Quinn kicks me.

“I’m good,” I say as I grab the glass and drink the entire contents. I need to focus on me, not Erin.

“You know what I think?” Liam leans over my shoulder.

“That I’m going to knock you the fuck out if you don’t back up,” I snap.

“No, that you miss me and want to get back under the covers with me.” His smile is damn smug.

The entire team laughs. “I think he regretted it, actually,” Quinn chuckles.

“Yeah, what were his words? That’s it. ‘Worst night of my life, don’t let me go home drunk with him again.’ I think you failed to satisfy him.” Kai laughs, and Liam glares at me.

“In my defense, I was still drunk when I got home after we fucked.” My shoulders shrug.

“Home?” Liam glares at me.

Okay, I live with Erin and Jaxon, not the team.

“He may or may not have come back to the club to drown his sorrows.” Quinn howls with laughter, almost falling off his seat. I watch as Liam storms away.

“Thanks. Why do you do that with every guy I fuck?” I look between them.

“Not every guy, just the ones who hang around and beg for seconds when you hated firsts.”

Rubbing my face, I fight back the laugh and hear the whistles. Turning, I see Jaxon walking towards us. He’s still in the clothes he skated in, tight-as-fuck black trousers and a purple shirt that is open at the front to show his chest.

He didn’t even take Erin home, which I should be pissed about, but I can’t because he looks fucking hot. Turning, I look away from him, and Quinn smirks.

“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter, and he leans back.

“I’m just thinking, you two grew up together. I thought it would be you fucking him, not Erin.”

Yeah, well, he seems to be good at playing straight with my sister.

As soon as Jaxon reaches the table, I hook an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to sit beside me. He stumbles slightly, but I keep him steady, my grip still firm. His body is still warm from skating, and the faint scent of his cologne is mixed with the cold air from outside.

"Look who finally decided to show up," I say while squeezing his shoulder before releasing it.

Jaxon rolls his eyes, reaching for an empty glass on the table and inspecting it like he's debating if it's clean enough to use. "I had to make sure Erin got home first."

Liar. Total liar if he had gone home, he would have changed. "You mean you let her go home alone while you came out with us to celebrate your own greatness?" I smirk and nudge at his ribs with my elbow.

Huffing a laugh, Jaxon shrugs. "She told me to come, and said that I deserved to enjoy it."

"Well, you do, she's right," Kai cuts in. "That routine was insane. Everyone here watched it, I swear, it was flawless, man."

Jaxon grins, eating up the fucking compliment, but I can see the shift in his expression even if it's slight. He knows it wasn't flawless, he knows I saw it.

"Yeah, I guess it turned out to be alright in the end," he says, trying to keep it casual.

“Alright?” Quinn scoffs. “You wiped the floor with the competition. You and Erin are practically untouchable right now.”

"Unless Jaxon drops her on her head," I mutter into my drink but loud enough for him to hear.

His head snaps toward me, and his eyes narrow slightly. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

Smirking, I lean into him, my shoulder pressing against his. "Not a fucking chance."

He doesn't move away, he doesn't even seem to notice how close we are. Instead he just shakes his head and tips the glass to his lips.

"You stress too much," he says between sips. "I had it under control."

I scoff and reach out, gripping his wrist before he can set the glass down. “You almost didn’t.” I turn his hand over, tracing the slight indent in his palm from where he must have clenched his fingers too tightly during the routine.