Page 31

RILEY

In the dawn light that bleeds through the curtains in Shawn’s room, I lie awake, surrounded by Jacob, Hayes, and Shawn. This bed, although big, wasn’t meant for three huge hockey players and their curvy lover, which is probably why I’m awake.

Hayes is to my right, his handsome face half buried in the pillow and his heavy leg resting between mine, pressed tightly against my pussy. Behind me, Shawn’s breath caresses my neck, and his arm is hooked over my waist, his hand cupped possessively over my breast. Jacob lies horizontally above the pillows—he drew the line as spooning one of his brothers and fell asleep playing with my hair.

It’s too warm and cramped, but I’ve never felt this happy and content. I’ve never felt this protected and sheltered from the world. The pleasure they inflicted on me last night has left fizzing bubbles in my brain and delicious soreness between my legs. If they wake up with time to spare before practice, I’ll be more than happy to take them again and again and again. Maybe we’ll never leave this bed except for food, drink, and to shower. Definitely to shower.

Someone should make it illegal to feel this good because it can’t last, can it? Too much bliss isn’t a thing anyone talks about for more than a few weeks at the beginning of a relationship. It’s unsustainable. It must be.

But even though it’s stupid to hope, I’m praying it isn’t.

This can’t work , my sensible voice says. Three men and one woman. Three hockey gods on the precipice of going pro who will most likely be spread out across the country and maybe even across the border in Canada. And me? I’m a friggin’ freshman with years until I’m ready to head into the outside world. They’ll forget me in a flash, maybe unintentionally, but the result will be the same. They’ll have puck bunnies hanging all over them after every game. It wouldn’t be fair to expect them all to stay true to whatever this fledgling thing is between us.

It’s too easy to feel at home between them. Too easy for my heart to unfurl in their hands. I snuggle my butt against Shawn, who tightens his grip on me in his sleep. I reach for Jacob’s hand, linking our fingers together, and he sighs as his eyes flutter with a dream. Hayes shifts closer like he’s seeking my warmth, and I press a soft kiss to his lips, lingering as his breathing falters and then restarts. I shift against his thigh, my arousal building.

It’s too easy to find myself falling.

Whatever happens, I have to remember that one day, I’ll watch them leave, and I’ll have to be okay with that because it’s the only option. Our time together is as borrowed as it was when we were kids. Maybe we’re always destined to come together only fleetingly. The fallout last time was rough. After this, I know my heart will be broken. As Hayes stirs, easing his thigh through my legs and kissing me deeply, Shawn’s dick presses against my ass, hard and ready, and Jacob reaches out to cup my breast. I force myself to push aside thoughts of what life will be like after the Draytons and relish the here and now, while I still have them all to myself.

***

The first day of anything new is always a little terrifying: equal parts excitement, nerves, and the nagging thought that I might fail spectacularly.

The November air is crisp, biting at my cheeks, and I take a deep breath, steadying myself to enter the media studies building. I clutch my bag like it holds the secrets to surviving the next few hours. It’s not like this is such a big deal. I mean, it’s just a student internship. It’s not like I’m walking into the NHL draft or anything. Still, the nerves twist in my stomach like a cake whisk on full power.

“You’ve got this,” I mutter, shifting my weight from foot to foot. “You’re a professional... unpaid student worker! They’re lucky to have your ass willing to work for nothing.”

With one last deep breath, I push the door open and step inside, greeted by the warm stuffiness of the heating system mixed with eau du student, and the faint hum of voices coming from somewhere down the hall. My black suede boots squeak slightly on the polished floor as I make my way toward the faculty lounge, where I was told to report.

The room is a buzz of activity as a handful of people hover around a table piled high with papers, tablets, and what looks like leftover Halloween candy. A tall guy with a clipboard is waving his arms like a traffic cop in the center of Mumbai.

“Hey! You must be Riley.”

The voice comes from my right, and I turn to find a petite girl with bright red lipstick framing a smile just as vivid. She clutches a coffee cup and her phone in one hand, balancing both like a seasoned pro.

“Hi.” I offer a tentative smile. “That’s me.”

“I’m Rachel.” She extends her free hand. “Welcome to the madness. Are you ready for your crash course in the wild world of Eastern U social media?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply, and she laughs politely even though it’s probably the same unimaginative thing everyone says.

Rachel leads me to the table, where a guy in a red shirt is juggling three different devices, his brow furrowed and jaw tight.

“That’s Calvin,” Rachel says. “He’s our analytics guru. If you want to get to grips with the results from any campaign, he’s your man. The dude speaks fluent algorithm.”

Calvin looks up long enough to give me a distracted nod and a fleeting smile before diving back into his work. I can practically see the numbers spinning through his eyes like fruits and bars on a Vegas slot machine

“And over there,” Rachel continues, pointing to a tall girl with curly black hair scribbling furiously on a notepad, “is Nadia. She’s our content queen. If it can be posted, she’s probably already written five drafts.”

“Don’t oversell me,” Nadia calls without looking up. “I’d hate to be a disappointment.”

Rachel grins and nudges me toward an open seat. “You’ll be shadowing me today. We’re working on a promo campaign for the media studies program. Think upbeat, engaging, and just cheesy enough to catch people’s attention without making them cringe too hard.”

“Got it,” I say, pulling out my laptop.

The next hour is a whirlwind. Rachel walks me through the basics of scheduling posts and tracking engagements. I know most of it, but I leave her to school me, so I’ll be confident I’m doing things the way they want. “Most importantly, avoid the cardinal sin of misspelling anything at all costs,” she says. Then leaning closer, she whispers, “ There was an incident last semester involving the word ‘clock’ and a missing ‘l’ that still haunts the team.”

“Don’t forget last year’s blooper,” Nadia says.

Rachel shudders. “The ‘shin’ ‘shit’ debacle shall not be mentioned.”

I snort-laugh, Miss Piggy style, which seems to impress everyone and reassures me that I’m surrounded by my kind of people. By the time we take a break, my head is spinning, but my confidence is growing that I might survive this, and even better, enjoy it.

During the break, the interns gather around the table, munching on candy.

“Once, I accidentally posted a picture of my cat on the university’s Instagram instead of my own,” Nadia confesses, her cheeks flushing. “The caption was, ‘Such a pretty pussy.’”

“That’s…” I trail off, “...kind of adorable?” I pop a mini-Snickers into my mouth, trying to swallow my horrified giggle.

“Yeah, half the football team thought it was an invitation to take a look at mine,” she replies with raised eyebrows, making everyone burst into laughter.

“They definitely don’t need that kind of encouragement!”

“What about you, Riley?” Rachel asks, leaning forward with a grin. “Any social media horror stories?”

I hesitate for a second before shrugging. “Well, once I posted something about my high school hockey team, and I accidentally used an image of the opposing team.”

Rachel shudders. “Yeah, that wouldn’t have been appreciated.”

Calvin clears his throat, lowering his coffee cup to the table in front of him and fiddling with the lid. “Speaking of hockey, do you think you could handle covering the university’s hockey games for the department’s socials? We usually rotate, but no one here really gets the game. If you have experience…?”

“Handle it?” I say, sitting up straighter. “Try to stop me.”

Calvin smiles, giving me a thumbs up. “Great. You’re officially our hockey correspondent.”

By the time the day wraps up, I’m more confident. Sure, I have a lot to learn, but the team is great, and I didn’t embarrass myself too badly.

As I step outside, I pull my coat tighter around me and immediately think about Jacob, Hayes, and Shawn somewhere out there, too far away for my liking. My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen, finding a message from Hayes.

Hayes: How’d it go, social media superstar?

Riley: No wipeouts, so I’m calling it a win. Also, I’m now the official hockey correspondent for the social media team.

Hayes: Look at you, keeping us relevant. Need a quote from your favorite defenseman?

Shawn : Nah…she wants one from the Golden Goalie.

Riley: Only if it’s better than, “I’m just here to keep the puck out of our net.”

Hayes: Ouch. Low blow.

Shawn : I’m wounded.

As I walk back to my car, my phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Jacob. Of course, he couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation.

Jacob: You need a quote from the real star forward? I’ve got you. How about: “Scoring goals is easy when you’re the best on the ice. Staying humble? That’s the real challenge.”

I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of my head.

Riley: You spelled “insufferable” wrong.

Jacob: Don’t hate greatness, Riles. Embrace it. I’ll even let you quote me as an anonymous source.

Riley: How generous of you.

Jacob: I try.

Riley : Maybe I should quote you all from last night. Oh, fuck yeah, Riley. Ride my brother’s dick, Riley. Suck my brother’s cock. You look so good, baby. Fucking come for us.

Shaking my head, I tuck my phone away, a grin tugging at my lips despite myself. Jacob might be cocky, but his antics have a way of breaking through even the most stressful days.

Just as I reach my car, another text comes through, this time from Shawn.

Shawn: Fuck Riley. Are you trying to give us a perpetual boner? My dick is oak.

Jacob : Keep messaging like that and see where it gets you.

Hayes : She knows where it’ll get her. On all our dicks. That’s the point, isn’t it, Riley?

I groan, laughing under my breath. These guys are going to make this internship very interesting. I conceded in my next message.

Riley : Maybe that’s exactly where I want to be. Stay safe.

The message doesn’t make their being away less unpleasant. It’s only a four-hour bus ride this time but having them all away at the same time feels weird in an eggs-in-one-basket kind of way. I follow up with another message.

Riley : And play safe.

It doesn’t take Jacob more than a few seconds to reply.

Jacob : We will, Riles. We will.