Page 48 of Iced Out

The sincere tone he uses is enough to set me on edge. Because this isn’t how we act together, all soft-spoken apologies and deep, meaningful conversations. Which is exactly why I shift the energy back to teasing.

Where it’s comfortable. Where we’resupposedto keep it.

“Just back then?” I ask, raising a brow. “Not for the past three years on top of it?”

A smirk plays on his lips, breaking through the heaviness. “I mean, we both know you had some of it coming.”

Just like that, we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming as I shove his shoulder, almost causing him to fall off the edge of the bed. It makes us both burst out into laughter.

“And there goes your chance of me apologizing for decking you. Because youdefinitelyhad it coming.”

Fifteen

Quinton

“There’s no way in hell we don’t win tomorrow. Not after that,” Oakley pants, dropping to his back across my mattress.

I’m still on top of him, cum leaking from my dick and onto his chest from what might be our hottest hook-up yet, and I have to agree. But Cornwallhas been undefeated so far this season, so it will be the first real test of our team.

And how well this superstition actually works.

“Honestly, we’re doing it again, even if we don’t.”

He chuckles, his hands resting on my thighs giving a little squeeze. “Deal.”

Sliding off his body, I wipe myself clean with a dirty shirt and toss it in my hamper. I can feel his eyes on me as I drag a pair of sweats up my hips, studying me the way he tends to. He’s been doing it a lot more lately, though I refuse to point it out. The last thing I want is to inadvertently piss him off when we’ve just started getting along.

“You mind if I hang here for a bit?”

“Not at all.”

I’ve realized having him around isn’t so bad. And not just for the sex part, though I’m not complaining about that either.

Take the other day for example. We were on our way out off the ice after practice when he pulled me to the side and asked if I wanted to grab dinner and study at my place. He needed someone to quiz him on some philosophy crap for a class he’s taking, and even with a ton of roommates who could help him, their townhouse is far too rowdy—even on weeknights—to actually be beneficial.

So…I said sure. And to my surprise, it wasn’t weird. We ordered a pizza, I quizzed him with his flashcards, and I learned a disturbing amount about Kant, Hume, and Marx in the process.

No arguing or bickering, and also no hooking-up, per the rules we agreed on. Which was fine with me…until Oakley stretched out and I got a peek at his abs. Then I had to rein my dick in from getting too many ideas.

But honestly, the best part of the night was when Hayes walked in after his night class to find us on the living room floor—notebooks, flashcards, and pencils strewn out around us—only to ask us who died.

We both got a good laugh out of it, though I understand why he’d ask that. He’s been privy to this little feud Oakley and I have longer than just about anyone.

But it was nice to see we could spend time together fully clothed and still not want to rip each other’s heads off. It’s progress.

“At least get dressed though,” I tell him, throwing his underwear at him. “In case Hayes decides to make an unexpected appearance.”

“True,” he says, and not even two minutes later, he’s cleaned up and fully dressed.

I’m at my desk on the other side of the room, reading through another chapter of this damn economics book, when he collapses back on my bed, stomach first, and shoves his arms beneath my pillow.

I shake my head and go back to reading; a comment something along the lines of“make yourself at home, why don’t you?”on the tip of my tongue.

I don’t get to say it, though, because he breaks the silence.

“What the hell?”

When I look up again, I find Oakley pulling the familiar disk out from under my pillow. Holding the puck in the air between us, he asks, “Were you missing this?”

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