Page 10

Three Years Ago – All Star Break

Jordan

The next morning, I wake up in the cold room of the cabin, the plaid comforter pulled up all the way to my chin. I regret sleeping in nothing but my underwear last night, and I shiver as I rip the comforter off me.

After eating dinner and playing a few rounds of games, Alice headed to bed in the loft upstairs, and I retreated to my room.

I couldn’t stop thinking of how good she felt in my arms when I hugged her, or how soft her skin was as I helped her lose a layer.

Eventually, the thoughts of her smiling face and soft laugh lulled me to sleep.

I throw on the nearest sweatshirt, not bothering with pants, and rub the sleep away from my eyes as I head to the bathroom and splash some water on my face.

When I step back into the hallway, Alice’s gasp startles me and I stop dead in my tracks. I turn around slowly, aware that I’m wearing nothing but boxers and a sweatshirt and my hands fly to my crotch, trying to cover up the boner I’m sporting.

Her blue eyes are wide as she takes me in. I expect her gaze to be on my hands, but instead they’re glued to my chest and the too-tight sweatshirt.

Wait, why is it tight?

I blink quickly and look down at what I’m wearing and?—

“J, are you wearing my sweatshirt?”

Fuck, this is so embarrassing.

“Jesus, Al, I’m so sorry,” I say, making quick work of reaching behind me with one arm and pulling it off me, one hand returning to cover my crotch. I close the distance between us and hold it out to her, my cheeks burning hot.

I’m such an idiot. Why did I even have it in my room?

“It’s okay.” She giggles and takes it from my hands, pressing it to her chest. I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes, but I sneak a glance at her mouth. Her bottom lip is trapped by her teeth and she’s trying not to laugh.

“I’m gonna go die of shame now, thanks,” I mumble, and half turn to walk away when she stops me with a hand on my forearm.

Her hot pink nails dig into my skin, and I stare at the indents she’s making.

“Don’t, it was cute,” she says, pulling me into a hug. I welcome it and wrap my arms around her shorter frame, tucking her nose into my collarbone. Her hands are warm on my naked back, and I let myself relax against her.

I’m all too aware of my morning wood so I keep some distance between us. She giggles again and the puff of breath tickles my chest. “You know, the color looked good on you, but I think it’s a size too small,” she teases, and I spring back from her.

Her laughter follows me down the hallway and past the closed door as I get dressed for the day.

Alice keeps refreshing the ski resort’s website as we stand around the kitchen counter but the same message from earlier rolls at the top of the page: Closed due to inclement weather.

“This is such a bummer,” Alice whines as I top off her coffee mug. She gives up on refreshing the page on her phone and grabs the mug with both hands, blowing on it before bringing it to her lips and taking a sip.

I can’t say I’m complaining. While this trip was supposed to be for snowboarding and outdoorsy activities, I wouldn’t mind spending the day with Alice by the fireplace. I swallow hard at the image of us curled up on the couch, wrapped up in blankets.

“Maybe we could watch a movie,” I offer lamely, hoping I can cheer her up.

“Yeah, I guess. I was just so excited to go out in the snow,” she says, bottom lip sliding in a pout. My gaze stays rooted on her lips and I will myself to look away, but I can’t. It’s physically impossible.

“We can always shovel the snow,” I say eventually, a teasing smile playing at my lips. Alice rolls her eyes at me and pulls her hair up in a messy bun at the top of her head, letting a few strands of hair fall softly around her angular cheekbones.

“That sounds like work, and I’m here for fun,” she says, eyes gleaming with mirth.

“I can be fun,” I say, blatantly lying. Since when do I consider myself fun?

My idea of it is playing board games and video games and hiding indoors for most of my time.

Most women, like Jess, have found that to be …

not so fun. But I can’t help it that I get anxious almost every time I go out in public, or that I dislike large crowds.

“Of course you’re fun, J. I just meant there’s not much to do indoors,” she says, smiling at me and looking around the room. “Do you want to start with a movie or a game?”

“Do you even have to ask?” I smile down at her, enjoying the fact that she so effortlessly gets me.

“I’ll set up Power Grid ,” she says with a grin over her shoulder as she heads for the game shelf. “And grab some snacks, please.”

“You got it,” I nod, already pulling out chips and guac, and Alice’s favorite—gluten-free Oreos.

Alice

Jordan always wins this game. No matter how hard I try, my strategy never comes close, but I don’t mind.

I love seeing the way his brain works when he gets laser focused on something.

He’s so much smarter than he ever gives himself credit for, and I don’t often get to see this side of him, but when I do, it’s magnificent.

Jordan bites his lip in thought, planning his next move to take over my side of the board and I smile.

Propping my chin in one hand and taking a bite of my Oreo with the other, I keep my gaze on him the whole time.

God, how I’ve missed hanging out like this.

I’ve missed his wit and his beautiful face and his smile.

My lips twitch thinking about him in my sweatshirt and how flustered he was.

I don’t know if hugging him was the right move, but I just needed to feel his skin, peppered with goosebumps from the cold.

He felt so good and solid against me, and even though he was trying to hide his erection from me, I could still catch a glimpse of the bulge in his boxers.

I wonder if he thought about me once he went back to his room. I wonder if he laid in bed thinking of me. I wonder if he touched himself. That mental image has me wriggling in my seat.

“Al?”

I swallow hard and break out of my daze. Here I go again, fantasizing about the man that’s been nothing but a friend to me these last seven years. The man that made it clear we can’t pursue anything because things would get too complicated.

“Sorry, what?” I say, taking a sip of sparkling water.

“It’s your turn again. We’re almost done, I’m sorry it’s taking so long. You must be bored,” he says, looking down at the table with a frown.

“No, I’m not bored, I promise. I just spaced out for a second, I’m sorry.”

“All good.” He smiles and I beam back at him. I really need to put all these horny thoughts away. Maybe I need to charge my vibrator and use it before I go to bed so I stop drooling all over one of my closest friends.

Once we take a few more turns, it’s clear that Jordan has once again beat me. I shake my head as we pack up all the pieces and put the game away. “How do you always win? Is there some secret to it?” I ask.

Jordan smiles and says, “I just really like thinking about all the strategies and potential outcomes. It comes naturally, for some reason. Plus, it helps that I know my opponent so well. It makes it easy to anticipate what your next move might be.”

My mouth drops open and I gasp. “That’s so devious.”

Jordan laughs and takes our snack plates away, rinsing them and adding them to the dishwasher.

“What do you want to do next?” I ask, pulling my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands to keep me warm.

“How about I start another fire and we can read together?” he says, and I immediately perk up. Jordan is not a huge reader, and when he does pick up a book, it’s either fantasy or nonfiction, so I’m intrigued by his proposal.

“Really? You want to read with me?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the same book. I have Bobby Orr’s autobiography.”

“Of course you do,” I sigh, making my way to the stairs that lead to the loft.

“What? He’s one of the best defensemen in hockey,” he yells after me.

“I believe it.” I chuckle. “I’ll go grab my book and be right back.”

I make quick work of grabbing my latest romance book and plugging in my vibrator, for good measure. I’m sure once I finish this smutty romance I’ll be turned on and in need of some release.

When I return downstairs, Jordan is crouched down in front of the fireplace, and I take a second to admire how good his ass looks in the black sweatpants he’s had on since morning.

The muscles in his back shift under his snug gray long-sleeve waffle shirt and I bite my lip, thinking about how good it felt to have my hands on him.

That night in my room, the way he kissed me back and took control—I keep replaying that moment over and over again.

I fantasize too often about how that night would have gone if he hadn’t put an end to it.

Jordan stands, stretching, lifting his arms high above his head, shirt riding high enough to give me a glimpse of light brown skin and a smattering of black hair trailing down into his sweatpants. I want to run my hands down that path and feel him—all of him. I want?—

“You’re back,” Jordan says, giving me a soft, lopsided smile.

“Yeah,” is all I manage to get out before I tear my gaze away from him and take a seat on the couch.

“Want to share a blanket until the fire gets going?” he says, unwrapping one of the king-sized sherpas we keep in the living room.

I nod eagerly and he chuckles. “Stand back up for a second,” he says, offering me a hand. When I take it, a little spark of electricity courses through me, and I doubt it’s only static. My body is so wired up every time I’m around this man, it doesn’t know how to function properly.

Jordan lays the blanket on the couch and we sit on top of it before he pulls one corner around my shoulder and the other around his, cocooning us both in so that we’re sitting close, legs touching from hip to thigh.

I try to sit still, not wanting to break out of this moment. Does he realize how close we are?