Page 6 of Break The Ice

I reach for the handle. My hands shake, and I pause, trying to find my courage. Just staring at the door makes me want to vomit.

Please don’t be a dead body.

I yank the door open. It happens in slow motion. The end of my life. My career. All of it.

Inside, glaring back at me, is Ryann Smith. My coach’s niece.

I think a dead body would have been better.

Duct tape is half off her mouth, and I reach out and peel it the rest all the way off.

“Hello, Cowboy. Do you remember me?” she says in a tone that is colder than the rink I love so much.

I run like thehounds of hell are on my tail and slam into a bedroom down the hall. Unlike my small, dark room, this one is light, airy but still masculine. In the huge, king-size bed are two lumps. I jump in the middle of them and burrow in.

“Ugh! Raider what the hell!”

I shiver uncontrollably as I realise what’s going to happen. My career. It’s over. I’m looking at jail time. How will Kit and Callan survive without me?

I can’t go to jail.

I bury my face in the pillow as someone leans over my back, walking his fingers up my spine.

“Daddy, I think our baby has been a very naughty boy.”

Kit’s lips graze my nape, and his dark chuckle makes me feel even worse. The familiar fabric and fruit gum scent washes over me, soothing me slightly.

“Talk to me, baby. Have you been naughty like Kit says?”

I hate them sometimes. Kit and Callan are my pack mates. I knew it the minute I met them when we were fifteen years old. I don’t care what anyone else says. They are mine, and I am theirs. Our pack dynamic differs from most peoples in that Kit and Callan are almost co-dependent on each other, while I’m much more independent. No one knows we’re together. And I date to hide that we’re a pack.

I’ve denied and lied and done everything I can to make sure that people don’t see us as a pack.

But we are. They are my closest friends, the loves of my life. I’d do anything to protect them.

Which is why I feel so bad. I really messed up thistime.

Callan rolls towards me, smiling with all those dimples that drive me wild. I lift my head and look at his sleep-tousled blond hair. His sky blue eyes twinkle at me in amusement that I’m loath to erase. His scent is so different from Kit’s. Parchment and tea that reminds me of all the libraries I would find him in in school. All those secret moments of protecting our young romance hiding in places no one would find us.

“How bad is it? Are we looking at the Great Locker Room Incident?” Callan murmurs.

I wince. My own peppermint scent flaring in the air strongly with my distress.

“Oh, you killed thousands of dollars worth of equipment with that mistake,” Kit purrs and wiggles up, pulling my head into his lap.

“I didn’t know it would be that powerful!”

“Leaving the soap in your locker was probably not the smartest move,” Callan reminds me for the thousandth time.

I grumble as Kit strokes my hair. Kit is small for an alpha, almost feminine. His androgynous appearance is the reason he got bullied so hard in school. His light chestnut hair has a slightly red sheen and looks perfect, even when he gets up from bed. It just appears artful. And his clear green eyes see more than he ever lets on. The freckles make him look younger than our twenty-eight years. He’s just not strong, not dominant. He can be, but he hates it. Kit hates being an alpha, so he pretends he’s not. And that’s okay with Callan and me, and no one else’s opinion matters.

“It’s worse!” I mumble loudly and turn my head into Kit’s thigh.

I feel Callan sit up behind me. “How bad? Like Emily 07 bad, or are we looking at The Great Pyramid Debacle?”

I wince at the reminder of my early mistakes. “How was I supposed to know that Dwayne would break up with her?”

Kit chuckles.

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