Page 29 of One More Time

“Mmhmm sure. Are you coming or what?”

“Fine, but don’t think we don’t have a conversation to have.”

After I changed, we headed to the hockey house. I found myself gnawing at my bottom lip, grappling with thoughts of what happened the last time I was there.

I will not sleep with Hunter Graves again. I will not sleep with Hunter Graves again.

We walked up the leaf-littered footpath to the door, Cal rambling away beside me. I was ashamed that I didn’t hear a word he said.

“Dude, I could have just said I wash my balls with vinegar and you would be none the wiser.”

“What?”

Cal reached over to ruffle my hair. “You had no clue what I had been saying as we drove over here.”

“Sorry mate, just…” Just what? My mind was stuck playing an endless loop of Hunter’s naked body, the feel of his skin against mine, the smell of his expensive cologne, the way he held me tight against his chest after sex. The way even when he attempted to rile me up, I ended up hiding a hard-on because his voice is something that should be recorded for an audiobook. Fuck.

“You thinking about mind-blowing sex?” Cal nudged me, his dimpled smirk beginning to grate at my nerves. My face must work better than my mouth because Cal let out a bark of laughter. “Fuck, man, he really did a number on you. I suppose it was your first, but God…. It’s good you got a guy with experience; I wish my first time had me all daydreamy like that.”

I shoved him—the only thing I could think to do. Mum would be so proud. Cal, only getting more revved up by my adolescent behaviors, threw his arm around my shoulders. “I think we could find another discreet male that would take your mind off Hunter. Someone for you to fuck, or—if you’re like me—get well and truly fucked.”

My stomach bottomed out at the idea. Could I do it? Sleep with another guy? Something about it was anything but appealing.

Cal led me through the front doors and my teammates called out as they saw me enter. I waved to my teammates, some approaching for those one-shoulder hugs, but Cal’s idea ran through my mind like a derailed train. I wasn’t picking up on a thing anyone said, absentmindedly nodding along to the conversation. Cal had already left the group, heading directly to him—Hunter Graves. He wore a dark black button-up shirt, sleeves folded to reveal his tattoos, paired with dark ripped jeans and boots. The entire look had my body heated like walking outside on a hot summer’s day.

His eyes met mine, studying my body the exact same way I’d just studied his. Cal looked between the two of us, his grin giving us away as he publicized his excitement over our heated looks.

Little prick.

I looked away, surveying the room and noting the people scattered around the house. The house was warm, but a chill came through as doors opened and closed.

I spotted Kinsley sitting with a pretty brunette, watching as Lachlan and Preston played on the PlayStation. I didn’t miss the way Lachlan Getz—aka Getzy—side-eyed Kinsley, whose full breasts bounced as she laughed. I scoffed, grabbed a Jack and Coke, and stole the seat beside Kinsley.

She looked shocked at first as I sat beside her; then, her eyes softened. “Hey, Aussie,” she greeted. I smiled politely, trying not to flinch as she brushed her lips against my cheek. Getzy and Preston shot me a jealous look, adding to the nerves zipping.

“Hey Kins.” I looked at the girl next to her and extended my hand. “I’m Tyler. Or Aussie, or Aus—whatever anyone wants to call me really." She greeted me with a warm-hearted smile and a soft grip on my hand. She was undeniably pretty – someone I could easily picture Hunter heading upstairs with tonight, perhaps even sharing her with Kins.

Kinsley, with her golden hair, blue eyes, and banging body created a beautiful contrast to the girl next to her. She had dark hair, hazel eyes, full lips, and an athletic body –the female version of Hunter himself.

“I know who you are. Great game today. I’m Kelsey Lienhart, women’s hockey team.” I suppressed a laugh and resisted the urge to point out the obvious. My gaze shifted between the two women, catching the glimmer in Kinsley’s eyes as she seemed to soak in her friend’s presence.

“Thanks. I haven’t had a chance to watch the female team, but I’ll have to now, see how you play,” I remarked, unintentionally injecting a flirtatious tone into my words. Getzy and Pres smirked, obviously picking up on it. I truly just wanted to watch them play. Back home, I coached the younger female hockey team, and I firmly believed those women could easily compete with the men—even outplay us.

“She’s very talented,” Kels added. I couldn’t help but smile. “The PWHL is looking to draft her, and she played for the under eighteens at worlds.”

“Don’t say that in front of Hunter,” I teased, keeping my voice low enough for the three of us to hear. “He may get jealous of you moving on to a better-looking and more talented hockey player.” They both blushed and I found myself liking the dynamic between them. However, it made me wonder where Hunter stood in this equation. I then mentally scolded myself for even thinking about him again.

I stayed engaged in the conversation, Kels eager to learn the differences between Australia and the States. I didn’t blame her; Australia was a thirty-six out of fifty-six in the IIHF. When I said Australian players weren’t on the NHL’s radar, I wasn’t joking. Regardless of all the time I spent training in other countries, the hours I spent on YouTube studying plays—it didn’t matter. Mum even had coaches who watched remotely, guiding me as I trained to be the best I could be. I hated to think about the amount of money she invested in me over the years to get me where I was.

“It’s crazy the amount you have done just to get that step ahead,” Kelsey remarked, entirely unaware of the depth of my journey. I felt a hint of pride, a rare emotion for me. I’d never truly taken a moment to appreciate where I was—every step along the way. I had to look forward. I couldn’t slow down. I always needed to be on top of my game. Because of that, I hadn’t really taken a moment to pat myself on the back.

I looked away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the reality of it all. I was here in America, the top country on the IIHF leaderboard. I had a scholarship to a top hockey school. I was winning games.

Sure, I wasn’t playing center like I was back home, I wasn’t a captain. But I was in one of the first lines tonight. I was a forward and I was shooting goals, making assists with guys who had been on the draft’s radar for years. They were only beginning to hear the name Tyler Riley. Scouts were at my games now. And for some reason, it had me feeling sick to my stomach.

As if she could sense my nerves, Kinsley passed me another drink. A quick smell of it told me she paid close attention—another Jack and Coke. She was an intuitive one and though I definitely didn’t want to sleep with her, I could see her becoming a good friend.

When I glanced up to scan the room again, Cal was engrossed in conversation with a man the size of a linebacker. He was tall with full, broad shoulders. His deep skin glowed in the yellow ceiling lights, and I couldn’t help but notice how the light accentuated the ridges of his muscles. He was undeniably attractive, his presence intimidating as he looked down at Cal. The combination of light and dark was stunning, and I had a strong feeling I would be hearing about him later—whether I wanted to or not.

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