Page 54 of Ricochet

However, when he speaks, his voice is steady. “I have a feeling you’re going to sit there anyway.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t want me to.”

I take my seat, and when he looks over at me, he has that same small smile on his face that he had the last time I saw him. It does strange things to that organ fluttering away in my chest.

He needs to stop before I pin him to his fucking desk and claim him in front of the entire class.

“Well, at least some things don’t change,” Callum mutters as he looks back down at his sketchbook, like he’s talking to himself. “Stone still has a big fucking head.”

When he says my name, every memory of him moaning it inside that hotel room comes rushing back to me. I have to look away, fixing my gaze to the front of the room, willing all my blood to stay above my waist.

It doesn’t work.

“You would know,” I tell him, my voice huskier than before.

He coughs, choking on air.

I grin again.

The professor chooses that moment to enter the room and start class.

It’s a good thing this is a refresher course. Between Callum sitting beside me, memories crashing against the walls of my skull like erotic waves, and my dick that really doesn’t want to stay soft, I’m not able to concentrate for shit.

I haven’t been able toget Callum alone all week.

And, trust me, I’ve tried.

Our practices have been long and grueling. We’re both drowning in coursework. It’s only Thursday, and we’ve already had three early morning off-ice conditioning sessions to prepare for our two games at home this weekend.

I’ve been in the rink, skating alone for close to ten minutes when the rest of the team comes down the tunnel.

Any good this ritual does for me is washed away when my eyes land on Callum first, then the man entering the bench next to him.

Fucking Eric Vaughn.

Wearing a fucking Monarchs sweater.

I swear I nearly blow a fucking gasket when Callum laughs at something he says and bumps his shoulder against his. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to grab the back of Callum’s sweater and haul him away like I’m some caveman.

The moment I finally have him alone again, I’ll make sure he knows who he belongs to.

He once told me that he doesn’t belong to anyone, but I’ll change his mind.

He fell into bed with me willingly. There’s no escape for him now.

That much is obvious when his eyes find mine and become trapped there. Caught. Captured.

The coach’s whistle blows, breaking the connection.

But it’s only temporary.

“There’s going to be a little change in the lineup,” Coach announces as he skates out onto the ice. “Peterson failed his drug test last week, so Vaughn here will be taking his place on Brooks’s line. That’s all. Everyone warm up!”

I may not have known Lucas Peterson all that well, but I still find it odd that anyone would risk their spot for some drugs.

Then again, my vices are a lot different than most.

The rest of the team comes out with sticks and pucks, and Callum and I immediately fall intoourroutine, warming up with passes and stretches, something I’ve grown even more appreciative of over the past week.

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