Page 4 of Love on the Ice

“What’s up?” Otto calls out.

Shaking my head, I move again, trying to ignore those eyes and continue on my way, my feet carrying me into the house, up the stairs, and to my room. This place is pretty sweet. There are two en suite bathrooms, a hall bathroom upstairs, and a half bath downstairs.

I share a jack-and-jill bathroom upstairs with Otto. The fifth room has a bathroom next to it upstairs, so it’s almost an en suite as well. It’s the perfect setup for us since we all need our own space.

“I can’t believe we got this place,” Forrest murmurs when I walk into the living room after dropping the box I had in my hands off in my room.

I don’t say anything immediately, my eyes taking in the living area and the space around me. Jerking my chin toward him, I clear my throat. “This is seriously going to be amazing, and we’ll be able to save most of our income.”

Forrest snorts at my frugal announcement. He doesn’t save money. I don’t know if he ever has. He doesn’t really need to, though. He comes from money. I know he’s got a bit of a trust fund waiting for him when he turns twenty-five in two years. He’s just living off his Fury contract until then and spending every dime of it every single month.

“You and your cheap-ass ways,” he calls out with a laugh.

I shrug a shoulder, not really giving a shit what he feels about it. I don’t have a trust fund to fall back on. My parents had to take out a second mortgage just to pay my hockey club fees, travel, and for private coaches when I was a kid. There’s no way I’m getting anything when they pass unless it’s debt.

I keep telling myself if I ever make the NHL, I’m going to pay them back for it all, or maybe when I’m able to really reap the benefits of all I’m saving. Although, I don’t see myself becoming a millionaire anytime soon to help repay them. I wish I could, though. My parents are pretty great.

“Call me cheap if you want,” I say with a shrug.

It honestly doesn’t bother me. I’ve been made fun of for a lot worse shit in my life. Forrest looks down at his shoes, then slowly lifts his gaze back up to meet mine. I can see regret for his words in his gaze but also pity, and that shit I hate.

I open my mouth to tell him to knock it off when the doorbell sounds. Frowning, I look over my shoulder at the door, and the conversation drops. I don’t know why I expect it to fly open, but I do. I just stare at it, confused, when it doesn’t.

Forrest stands and walks over to the door when the bell rings again. I don’t make a move to see who is on the other side. He turns the knob and opens it slowly as if he’s waiting for someone or something to jump out at him. Then I hear him chuckle and step aside, asking whoever is there on the other side to come on inside.

Two beautiful women walk through the door and stand in the entryway. They’re tall, leggy, and stacked. They look like all the girls at the after-parties, all the girls at the clubs. All the girls who’re waiting at the end of a game to try and hook up with a player—puck bunnies, as they’re lovingly referred to.

They’re gorgeous, but they don’t intrigue me to get to know more than just how their bodies feel. And I know without a doubt that makes me a chauvinistic dick.

“We wanted to throw you a welcome to the neighborhood dinner tonight. Nothing big, just some food and drinks. A get-to-know-you kind of thing,” the blonde one announces.

Forrest rocks back on his heels and shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. “Making friends,” he murmurs.

The blonde who's been talking beams up at him. “Exactly that. Making friends,” she says, repeating his words.

“We’ll be there,” Otto states as he descends the staircase.

Both girls shift their attention to him. I continue staring at the interaction taking place in front of me. “How many of you live here?” the girl who’s been quiet the whole time asks, her eyes round and wide.

“Five of us,” Otto calmly states.

“Nice,” the blonde announces with a hiss. “Okay, come over around seven.”

Without another word, they twirl around and bounce out of the house. Forrest doesn’t close the door after they leave. Instead, he and Otto stand at the doorway and watch the girls walk across the street to their house.

“Reid, you fucking froze,” Otto barks after the girls are out of sight and they’ve closed the door. “But you can make it up tonight. Those women are ready to party. It’ll be really nice to have some eye candy so close by.”

“You guys go ahead. I think I’ll just stay here and unpack,” I grumble.

There is a moment of silence. I can feel their eyes on me. I try to ignore them. There’s no ignoring them, though. They wouldn’t let me. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair and let out a heavy sigh.

“Reid,” Forrest groans, “you’re the fucking worst, and you’re the prettiest of them all. You have to go with us. You can’t stay home and knit all night.”

I flip them off before walking into the kitchen to grab a beer. I need to drink. I don’t know why going over to their house bothers me, but it does, maybe because it’s the same shit, different place. The same women, the same party, the same everything.

I want something different.

Someone different.

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