Page 23 of Tangled Vows

“You know what? That actually sounds great.” A nervous look settled over Easton’s features, and I smiled triumphantly. “Let me get changed, and I’ll meet you down there.”

We parted ways, and I headed for my room, dumping my wares on the bed before going to my suitcase. Claire warned me I needed to bring my swimsuit whenever we traveled since most of the hotels had swimming pools and hot tubs, and I was thankful I’d listened. I shot off a quick text to let her know where I’d be in case she returned to the room, and I was gone. She’d gone to check up on Quinn who’d taken an awkward fall after losing an edge and hurt his ankle during the second period.

I rifled through the pile of clothes until I found what I was looking for. Plucking the bathing suit from the bottom of my suitcase, I quickly changed and inspected my reflection in the mirror. The suit was a pin-up inspired two piece with high-waisted bottoms and a bustier-style top. It hugged and accentuated my curves exquisitely. The shape was flattering and highlighted all my best assets. It not only made me feel comfortable in my own skin, but it made me feel sexy. My boobs were pushed up to the sky, and my stretch marks were covered. My thighs were thick but shapely thanks to the hours spent in the gym each week. All in all, I felt good.

Slipping on a pair of loose shorts and a tank, I grabbed my room key and headed for the pool area. The guys were already submerged in the hot tub, splitting the distance equally between them. I debated where to sit. Due to his earlier apprehension over me joining them, part of me wanted to sit right next to Easton. He clearly hadn’t wanted me here, and because I was me, I wanted to rub it in his face that I was invited anyway.

However, self-preservation took over. I didn’t want to be so close to him with so few clothes on. Despite my conflicted feelings toward the man—one moment he was insulting me, and the next he was caring for my injury or distracting me to keepme calm during takeoff—my body knew exactly what she wanted from him.Desperate little hussy.

Straightening my spine, I headed for the hot tub, my sights set on the spot between Kent and Slater. That would put me directly across from Easton, but that was better than being next to him.

“There she is,” Kent announced as I approached and placed my phone and room key on the bench.

“Hey, fellas. How’s the water?”

“Perfect,” Slater sighed blissfully, sinking lower into the bubbly depths. I kicked off my shoes before pulling my tank over my head. Slipping my fingers into my waistband, I shimmied my shorts down my legs and tossed them on top of my other belongings. When I looked up, Easton’s gaze bore into me, his jaw flexing before looking away. He almost looked angry, as though the sight of me in a bathing suit irked him.

I rolled my eyes and straightened my shoulders. It would be a cold day in hell before I let him dampen my confidence again. I was in too good of a mood and quite frankly, I was feeling myself in this bathing suit. It was the first one I’d bought myself in years, and I was going to enjoy it.

19

EASTON

Holy.

Fucking.

Hell.

My breath caught in my throat, and my lungs seized. I couldn’t draw in air as Shayla tugged her shirt over her head and leaned down to drag her shorts down her legs. The forward motion pushed her tits up even higher, giving me a perfect, unobstructed view of her cleavage. She shimmied the thin material down those decadent thighs, thighs I wanted to wear as earmuffs. Thighs I wanted wrapped around my hips so I could bury myself deep inside her.

Fuck, now I was hard … in a hot tub with two of my teammates. I needed to get it together before someone noticed. Shayla glanced up and caught me staring at her, and I quickly looked away, but it was too late. I gritted my teeth together, fighting the urge to look at her again. She was exquisite, like a priceless work of art. I could sit and stare at her for hours.

“Wow, this water feels amazing,” Shayla said when she stepped into the hot tub. I snuck a peek at her as she lowered her sinful body into the water. I tried to tamp down the hedonisticthoughts running through my head, but seeing her like this, thighs bare and the lush curve of her breasts spilling over the cups of her top, tested my restraint. It finally felt like we were on better terms, that we’d formed a tentative friendship, and I didn’t want to ruin it by openly ogling her. She had to know I was attracted to her. Surely she felt how hard I was that day in the weight room when I helped her with squats. There was no way to hide it.

I swallowed hard, trying to clear those images from my head as the conversation picked up. Clearing my throat, I studiously fixed my gaze on Shayla’s face, willing it not to drop to the swells of her breasts visible just above the water.

“So, uh, did you watch the game?” I asked, sounding awkward even to my ears. I mentally kicked myself. This wasn’t high school. I was Easton Fucking Walker. Talking to women came easy to me. So why was I so nervous all of the sudden?

“Of course,” she replied breezily. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“She even wore my jersey,” Kent added proudly, puffing his chest. What the fuck? Why would she wear Kent’s jersey? She could've asked for mine.

“Seriously,” I asked before I could stop myself. A frown tugged at the corners of Shayla’s lips, and I instantly regretted not keeping my mouth shut. Her eyes narrowed on me, and I worried she saw straight through me, to the inexplicable jealousy swelling in my chest.

“I wanted to show my support for the team,” she replied, her tone even, though I could detect her annoyance. I’d come to know it well. “And Kent brought me a jersey. A lot of the support staff wears them to games,” she explained. I wondered if someone wore mine. I didn’t want anyone but Shayla wearing my number.

“I see,” I replied. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her to wear mine to the next game when Dr. Norton approached.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” A sly smile tugged at her signature red painted lips. I swear, I never saw the woman without lipstick on. “Three hockey players and one hot chick in a hot tub. I read a book like this once,” she announced, a wicked gleam in her eye. Shayla’s face, which was already flushed from the heat, turned a deeper shade of red. I didn’t know what kind of books Doc liked to read, but I could guess what she meant solely by the wicked smile she wore and the quirk of her brow. And I didn’t like what it implied. If I ever got a chance to be with Shayla, I sure as hell wouldn’t share her with two other guys.

“Mind if I join you?” Dr. Norton asked.

“Be my guest,” Kent offered with a huge grin splitting his face. We all shifted to make room for her. She took the empty spot between Kent and Shayla, who was thankfully no longer in my direct line of sight. It would be easier to avoid staring at her now. At least that was what I told myself.

“How’s Quinn?” Slater asked, a worried crease settling between his brows. He and Quinn were tight, nearly inseparable even.

“He’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Just needs to stay off the ice for a week or so.”

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