Page 5 of The Players Next Door

"Guess what they say is true," I muse. "Practice makes perfect."

"Then you're well on your way."

"Thanks to a good coach." I nod at him, grateful beyond words.

"Team effort," he insists, and there it is again—that feeling of not being alone.

"Right you are," I agree, and as the lights shine down on the ice gleaming below, I know it deep in my bones—I can do this.

Chapter 2

Jaxon

The roar of the crowd from the Grizzlies game still echoes in my ears as we step into Blue Line, the bar's familiar musk and dim lights wrapping around us like a second skin. I'm surrounded by bunnies, and not the cute fluffy kind. No, these are the kind of bunnies who will do just about anything to get in your pants.

They’re all vying for my attention with too-tight dresses and eager eyes. Normally I’d be all over that shit. Hell, I wouldn’t even wait till I got home, probably taking one of them to the back hall or the storage room that’s never locked. But not tonight.

None of them hold a candle to her—Holly Hawthorne.

"Jax, you're not even listening, man," Cameron laughs, nudging me with his elbow.

I flick my gaze to Cam, and then it goes right back to Holly. She's across the room, sipping on something that looks like liquid gold in the low light. The way she tosses her chin-length blond hair over her shoulder and laughs at something on herphone—it's like she's in slow motion and the rest of the world just blurs around her.

I can’t take my eyes off her. I don’t even want to.

"Can't blame him," Deacon chimes in, his voice smooth like whiskey. "She's got that vibe—like she's not even trying, and still, damn..."

"Sweet and sexy," I mutter, more to myself than to them.

"Got that innocent look that makes you think of...well, not-so-innocent things," Deacon adds with a smirk.

"Guys, we shouldn't be talking about her like that." Cam's the voice of reason, but even he can't peel his green eyes away from her.

"Can't help it," I admit without shame. Flashes of our flirty exchanges light up my brain—a touch here, a laugh there. It's like a game we've been playing, except none of us knows the rules or how to win.

All week, the three of us have been dancing around her trying to figure out this new dynamic. Sawyer asked me to watch out for her. I don’t think this is what he had in mind. Fuck, he’d remove my balls with his skate blades if he knew half the shit running through my mind.

"Careful, man. You know she's Sawyer's sister." Cam's warning cuts through the hum of my thoughts. “She's off-limits, remember?”

"Tell me something I don't know," I say, frustration edging my words. It's wrong—God, it's so wrong. She's my best friend’s little sister, and now she's the voice of our games. But damn if she isn't temptation personified. She's off-limits. As untouchable as a Stanley Cup dream—but just as alluring.

But I already have a Stanley Cup under my belt. Maybe I can have her too.

She takes another sip of her drink, her pouty lips wrapping around the glass, and I can’t help but wonder what they wouldlook like wrapped around my cock. I feel that familiar pull in my gut—that dangerous thrill of wanting what I shouldn’t have.

"Rules are made to be broken, aren't they?" Deacon winks, but I can see the caution in his eyes.

"Damn right, they are," I murmur. But as the heat of the room presses in, the reality of our situation sets up like ice.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

"Jaxon Raleigh, king of bad ideas." I chuckle dryly, tossing back what’s left of my drink.

I weave through the crowd, the buzz of post-game adrenaline still thick in the air. Blue Line's dim lights cast everyone in a forgiving sort of shadow, but Holly? She's all bright spots and clear lines, even from across the room.

I need a new drink. What a perfect excuse to sidle up next to the sexy little thing and see how this plays out.

"Bro, we need to talk," Deacon mutters, hooking an arm around my shoulders and steering me back toward a secluded corner where Cameron leans against the wall, his gaze following her like a hawk.

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