Page 6

Chapter six

~ DAMIEN~

The door clicks shut behind me, and I barely register the blonde trailing me, her giggles bouncing off the walls like nails on a chalkboard. I don’t know her name. I don’t even know why I brought her back here. I guess old habits die hard. After every night out, the boys expect me to leave with someone. I guess I do, too. But my mind is elsewhere.

I pour myself a whiskey and walk over to the floor-to-ceiling window in my living room. It overlooks Rowan’s mansion, the same view I’ve had for years, and nothing ever changes—except now, something’s different. That room that’s always been dark is lit up. Avery’s room.

My muscles lock for a second, and then I shift, curiosity pulling me toward the window. I knew I had a clear view of some of the rooms of Rowan’s house, but I’ve never had a reason to look. Until now.

The surprise quickly morphs into something darker knowing I have a clear line of sight.

The lights in her room are soft, with a warm glow over everything inside. She’s in there, completely unaware that I’m watching. My lips part, and my heart rate picks up. Shit. My eyes scan her body, from the bun on her head to the short sleeping set she’s wearing. No bra. She’s moving around, dancing, swaying with a kind of carefree energy that punches me straight in the gut.

How much of that wine has she had?

I sip my drink, but the heat rushing through my veins has nothing to do with the whiskey.

The unsteady sound of heels brings me back to reality as the blonde drunkenly walks over to me, a glass of whiskey in hand. She’s pulled the top of her dress down, her nipples perked atop tits that look more like blown-up balloons. Right. I’d completely forgotten about her. I turn and look back out so she doesn’t see the look on my face.

“Damien…” she purrs behind me, sliding her hands over my shoulders, pressing her half-naked body against my back. But my attention is locked on Avery again. Her arms stretch above her head, while her little top hitches up, revealing a bit of her tummy as she twirls around, singing, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m standing here, eyes glued to her.

She’s not supposed to look like that. Not to me. The things I want to do to her are diabolical and completely unhinged. But the more I try to convince myself to shake it off, the more I realize I can’t. I can’t look away. I’m fucking addicted to Avery, and I know I shouldn’t be.

That’s Rowan’s little sister.

But fuck if my body’s not reacting anyway. Heat rushes through me all the way down to settle tightly in my balls. It’s her. She’s setting something off inside me that I’ve tried to ignore for years. Innocent, sweet little Avery, dancing around, fucking clueless.

The woman behind me sighs in frustration when I don’t respond to her, her fingers slipping lower, tracing the lines of my abs, trying harder.

“Come on,” she whispers in my ear, her breath hot against my neck. “What’s the hold-up?”

I take another sip of whiskey, my gaze still glued to Avery. The woman presses herself harder against me, her fingers inching beneath my shirt now, nails scraping across my skin. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, already feeling my dick pressing against my zipper.

I feel the woman’s lips on my neck, her body fully pressing against mine now. She’s relentless, clearly thinking she will get what she came here for. Normally, she would. But not tonight. Not ever. Not anymore.

Because the only thing that’s making me hard right now is the sight of Avery dancing in that tiny little outfit.

Shit. My hand tightens around the glass, and I take a slow, steadying breath. This is bad.

“Damien,” the woman moans my name again, more impatient this time, trying to draw me back to her. Her hand slips lower, teasing at the top of my jeans, but I barely acknowledge her anymore. My pulse quickens, but not for her.

Not even close.

“You should go,” I finally rasp out. “I’m not in the mood.”

Her fingers trail lower, tugging at my jeans.

“You’re rock hard,” she says with a sly grin, her voice a low whisper in my ear, but when I finally pull my eyes from Avery and look at her, I can’t pull the look of disdain off my face.

“I am,” I say, taking one last sip of my drink. “But not for you.”

She blinks, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me.” I turn fully toward her now, looking her dead in the eye, making it crystal-clear. I reach into my back pocket, pull out a stack of cash, and hand her a hundred-dollar bill. “For a cab.”

Her jaw drops, and she stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” My voice is flat, leaving no room for argument.

She scowls, scoffing under her breath as she snatches the money from my fingers and pulls her dress back on.

“I should’ve gone for Ares,” she mutters as she heads for the door. I scoff at her comment.

Ares wouldn’t even glance your way, doll. He’s very… particular about these things.

I don’t bother responding; I just keep my eyes on her until the door shuts behind her, ensuring she doesn’t take anything. When it does, I turn back to the window. To her.

Avery’s still in her room, completely unaware of the show she’s putting on for me. She spins around again, her movements innocent and free, but to me? It’s fucking dangerous.

The room is dim now, barely lit, but I can still see enough. See her. And I don’t stop the heat spreading through me this time. The burn of want. Of need.

My hand moves instinctively to my belt, my breath coming out in slow, deliberate exhales as I keep watching her. The way she looks so carefree, so oblivious—it’s too much. The lines I have to keep between us are fucking crumbling, and I’m powerless to stop it.

My pulse pounds harder, and my eyes narrow, focused on her every movement. Avery has no idea what she’s doing to me right now, and maybe that’s what makes it even hotter. She’s untouchable, innocent, but she’s got me on a fucking leash without even trying.

I shift my stance, letting the tension in my body simmer as I glance down, my hand already at the edge of my belt. Fuck.

I pull it away, shaking my head. I down the last remaining bits of whiskey, welcoming the burn like a punishment I deserve. I’m fucking screwed.

The ice cracks under the force of my skates as I push off hard, gliding across the rink at full speed. I could barely get any sleep last night, not after watching Avery until the lights finally went out.

Now, the cold air rushes past my face, but all I feel is the fire in my chest, my body charged up from the moment I stepped onto the ice. This is where I belong.

I angle my stick, ready for the puck, as Rowan powers down the right side, cutting past one of our defensemen in a blur. The puck’s coming my way, and I know it before Rowan even passes it over. He trusts me to be exactly where I need to be. He always has.

I take the pass cleanly, the blade of my stick absorbing the impact as I cut back toward the center of the rink. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ares coming up on my left, barreling toward the goal like a goddamn freight train, his body a wall of muscle and aggression. No one dares stand in his way.

I give him a quick nod, feigning right to draw the defenseman toward me before snapping the puck toward Ares, tape-to-tape. He snatches it effortlessly, his massive frame powering through as if the other guy wasn’t even there.

The puck rockets off Ares’s stick with a sharp crack, a slapshot so fast it’s a blur, cutting through the air. It hits the back of the net before our goalie has time to react.

“Fuck, yeah!” I laugh triumphantly as Ares skates past me, the corner of his lips curling up.

“Nice one.” Rowan glides up next to us, tapping his stick against mine. “Lance!” he calls to the goalie. “You have to act faster than that.”

“You try acting fast when Ares shoots the puck at you like a damn bullet,” Lance shouts back.

This is what we live for. The adrenaline, speed, power. It’s a different world out here. One where nothing else matters but the ice beneath our skates and the next goal.

I skate back into position, my eyes sweeping the rink, but they flicker to the empty stands for a second.

Avery.

She’s sitting there by herself, bundled up, her wide eyes following every move we make on the ice. I know she’s been watching me because as soon as I look at her, she snatched her gaze away. And fuck, I love it. I love knowing her eyes are on me while I’m not looking, just like mine were last night.

I catch her gaze again for half a second, and a slow grin creeps across my face. It’s not the ice keeping me fired up right now like usual. It’s her.

But I can’t get distracted. Not with Ares and Rowan always playing like their lives depend on it. I refocus, locking my gaze on the puck as it’s dropped back into play.

This time, it’s Rowan who grabs it off the face-off, cutting up the ice. The guy’s skating is so clean it’s almost unfair, but that’s Rowan. Precision. Discipline. It’s what makes him one of the best.

I take off after him, trailing by a step, waiting for the opening. He dangles past two of our defensemen, dodging checks. It’s a thing of beauty, but when he gets boxed in near the boards, I know it’s my time to move.

“Got you!” I shout, pushing hard, cutting through the gap as Rowan threads the puck back to me.

I fly down the center lane, ignoring the shove of a defenseman trying to knock me off balance. My body takes the full hit, but I’m still upright, still in control. My stick angles back, eyes locked on the net.

In one swift motion, I wind up and let it rip. The goalie reacts a nanosecond too slow, the puck sliding past his blocker, hitting the back of the net with a satisfying thud.

“Get your shit together, Lance,” I shout out to him, skating around behind the goal, my heart pumping with the rush of it.

The guys skate over to slap my back, but my mind is only half on the game now. Every time I move, I can feel Avery’s eyes on me, and I can’t help how my body reacts to that knowledge. It’s like an invisible tether, pulling me toward her, even when I know I need to focus.

“Another round,” Rowan barks out, his voice firm as he sets up for the next drill.

There’s a reason we’re the best. “Practice like you’re playing the Stanley Cup Final every damn day. No excuses.” That’s what our coach has drilled into our heads.

“Bring it.” I smash my stick against the ice.

The next drill starts, and it’s a fast-paced three-on-two. Me, Rowan, and Ares against two of our top defensemen. I weave through the defense, my skates barely brushing the ice as I take off down the left side, ready for whatever’s coming next.

The final whistle blows, and I’m the last one off the ice. Rowan, Ares, and the rest of the guys are already halfway to the locker room, but I can’t take my eyes off the stands.

Avery’s still there, sitting quietly, eyes wide and fixed on the rink like she’s trying to blend into the background.

I pull off my helmet, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair, and start toward her. We’re supposed to stay behind for our lesson, both telling Rowan that we have somewhere else to be. But my plans were cut short before we even got to the rink.

“Red,” I call out, my voice cutting through the stillness of the rink.

Her head snaps up, and she inhales sharply. She makes this so damn fun. I grin as I walk over to her, still in full gear, the weight of my pads making me look even bigger than usual.

Avery rises to her feet, her eyes darting around nervously, no doubt scanning the area for Rowan.

“Did you enjoy watching me?” I can’t help myself.

Not when her cheeks flush a deep pink, and she tucks her hair behind her ear, trying to look anywhere but at me.

“I was watching everyone, not just you,”

“Mmm,” I hum, stepping right up to her.

I’m towering over her, still in my skates, and she looks even smaller than usual, her head barely reaching my chest.

She bites her lip, clearly struggling to come up with something to say, but I’m not about to give her time to find one. I peel off my gloves, dropping them onto the bench beside me, and lean in closer, my body crowding her, the lingering heat from the game clinging to me.

“We both know I’m your favorite to watch,” I murmur, my voice low enough that it’s just for her.

“Right,” she huffs out, rolling her eyes, unaware of how red her face has gotten. She scans the area once more. “I told Rowan that I’m going out with Sarah after this,” she says, her voice dropping to a murmur.

“About that,” I start, giving her an apologetic look. I’d completely forgotten about the meeting with some of our top real estate agents.

Her brow furrows in confusion, and she looks up at me, those big, innocent eyes of hers catching me off-guard for a second.

“I gotta head over to Skyline for a meeting with the guys and some agents,” I explain, my voice barely above a whisper now. “So, looks like our little skating lesson will have to wait.”

“Oh,” she breathes, clearly disappointed but trying not to let it show. “It’s fine. We can reschedule.”

You have no idea how much I loved the show you put on for me last night, baby.

I take a deep breath at the memory, stepping in even closer. But she’s so goddamn innocent that she doesn’t even realize what’s happening. Doesn’t know how half the team looked at her the moment she and Rowan stepped through the door. And how much I wanted to rip their heads off for even looking her way.

“I’ll have your ass back on the ice before you know it.” My voice is a deep rumble.

Her mouth parts slightly, and I watch her throat bob as she swallows, clearly flustered.

“I don’t think I want my ass anywhere near the ice, actually.” She laughs nervously. “I think that’s the whole point of our lessons.”

I grin, closing the gap even more.

“Where would you want your ass, then?” I know where I want it.

She’s practically trembling under my gaze, her pulse quickening like a rabbit’s.

“What?” She blinks up at me, oblivious and confused.

I hold her gaze for a moment longer, savoring the way her breath hitches, the way her eyes dart to my lips and back to my eyes without even realizing she’s doing it.

But I’m out of time. Rowan’s in the locker room and could come out any second. No one’s supposed to see me this close to her, and this is dangerous territory.

“I gotta go shower and change. I’ll text you about the next lesson,” I force myself to say.

“Okay.” She nods, her eyes running wild all over me. I’d pay any price for her thoughts right now.

Reluctantly, I take a step back, letting the tension hang between us like a live wire. I run a hand through my hair, trying to keep it casual even though my body is screaming to stay.

Just as I turn to skate away, I catch sight of someone in my peripheral vision.

Jake. What the fuck is he doing here? Our game with the LA Blades is around the corner, so I was expecting someone from the rival team to come sniffing, but I wasn’t expecting their fucking captain.

But here he is. Standing in the open doorway to the rink, arms crossed, a grin plastered on his face like he’s just walked in on something he shouldn’t have because he has.

My body tenses immediately, and I shoot him a look, my jaw clenching. Jake shouldn’t even be able to come in here. This is our private rink—security should have stopped him on his way in. Somebody’s getting fucking fired.

Of all people, he’s the last one I want seeing me this close to Avery.

Jake’s eyes flick between us, and I can tell from the way his smirk widens that he knows exactly who she is. And what this looks like.

Trouble.