Page 56 of Chase Lovett Wants Me

CHAPTER 21

CHASE

“You were on fire on the ice tonight!” Steele chest bumps me while still fully dressed in his gear.

The past week has been awesome. Cammie and I have had sex three times. She needed a couple of recovery days after the first time, but then we had sex two days in a row. Having sex with someone I care about feels different. It’s addictive. I want more of her wrapped around me, more of her moaning my name, more of the soft look on her face when she’s orgasm happy.

We stayed up way too late talking about her feelings regardingThe Rings of Powerand what her childhood was like. She constantly surprises me, making me laugh about her antics during her martial arts training. I want to know everything about her. I know she hates when it gets really cold. She thinks apple is a superior fall flavor. She wants to be an author but doesn’t know if she’s brave enough to do it. I think she can do anything though. I’m definitely in deep.

A couple of the fourth-year players ruffle my hair and give me props as they pass me on the way to the showers. It was just a team scrimmage, but we have a game tomorrow night, and I’m hoping I get some good ice time on account of my performance.

“Seriously, nice work out there,” Brody says as we strip off our jerseys and start removing our pads.

“Thanks. Scoring a goal felt fantastic.” Our goalie is known for shutouts; getting past him is incredible.

“It was seriously kick-ass. I’m sure they’ll put you in the game tomorrow night. And we can book extra ice time next week if you want to work on your wrist shot,” he offers.

“Yeah. Let’s check our schedules.” Between assignments, daily practice, and classes, it’s hard to find time for anything else. Thankfully the game tomorrow is at home. Games are always on the weekend, and the away ones cut into my Cammie time.

But tonight is a good reminder that I’m here on a hockey scholarship and if I’m really fucking lucky, I could end my four years here with a degreeanda contract for the pros. Balancing school, a relationship, and hockey is a lot, but I’m up for the challenge.

We hop in the showers and change back into our dress clothes.

Mac slings an arm over each of our shoulders as we make our way through the lobby. “We’re going out and you’re both coming.”

“I’ll come for food, but that’s it,” I say.

“Same,” Brody seconds.

“Just because you have a girlfriend doesn’t mean you can’t have a freaking life, dude,” Gage grumbles as he joins us.

“I do have a life,” I say defensively. Maybe it’s not quite the life I envisioned a few months ago, but my priorities have shifted. And Cammie is hanging out with her friend tonight, so she’s busy anyway.

Do I want to sleep alone in my own bed? No. But we have a hard time keeping our hands to ourselves. There’s a chance she’d try to seduce me even though she probably needs a night off, so her being out is for the best.

“Dudes, why the hell did we get fake IDs if all you’re up foris wings?” Gage pushes between us and picks up the pace so he can join a few of the other guys.

“You know if he goes out, he’ll get stupid on shots,” Brody mutters.

“He always gets stupid on shots. Like I want to risk ruining my Uber score because he has to ask them to pull over so he can hurl.” It’s happened before. Thankfully it was on his Uber account, not mine. He showed up to practice the next day hungover and hurled on the ice. He was suspended for two games.

Mac sighs. “I’ll watch him tonight. I owe you for that party a while back, Stiles.”

Brody doesn’t skip a beat. “Hell yeah, you do, bro.”

“We could go for like an hour, if Gage still decides he’s up for it later?”

Brody gives me a look as we slide into two seats at the end of the table while Mac follows Gage to the other end. “Since when are you one to fold under peer pressure?”

“I just feel like…I don’t know. I don’t want to bail on him all the time. And maybe like…I’m missing out if I don’t?” But honestly, I’d rather be with Cammie than anywhere else.

“Does it feel like you’re missing out?” He does this often—throws the question I asked back at me.

“No. But—” I shrug.

“Sorry to interrupt. What can I get you guys to drink?” The server is a pretty brunette.

“I’ll have a Coke, please.”

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