Page 6 of Stick Handled

“We’ll help you clean up,” I announce, throwing my napkin on the table. I make sure to touch her one last time, letting my hand rest on her lower back as I get up. She tenses under the light pressure, and I lean down, whispering low, “You seem jittery, Red.”

Her face flushes pink, and I feel her body stiffen as I pull away, leaving her sitting there, her hands fisting her napkin.

Yeah, I’ve never been one to make rational decisions, and this might be the most irrational one yet, but it’s already been made. I’m going to eat this girl alive, and I’m going to savor every goddamn bite.

Chapter three

~AVERY~

Surprisingly, I slept like a baby on my first night here. I figured I’d be tossing and turning, but I was out cold the second my head hit the pillows. I’d woken up actually rested, though it took a couple of seconds to remember where I was and a few more to remember which turn to take to get to the ground floor.

Rowan’s house is… massive. Like the kind of massive where you could get lost trying to find the bathroom. It’s all clean lines, glass, and marble—basically an architectural wet dream. The whole place screams, “I’m a billionaire, and you know it,” but it’s not as cold as one might think. Somehow, he’s managed to make it feel lived-in, like a high-end magazine cover, but one where you’d actually want to kick off your shoes.

The kitchen’s no exception. It’s all marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances connected to a living room that could fit five of my dorm rooms inside.

Rowan co-owns a huge real estate agency along with Damien and Ares, which is how he managed to get all three houses built right next to each other so quickly. The land was a huge ranch that their company had listed, and the three decided to buy and split it instead—brothers by choice and all.

“I have to go practice with the guys today. Would you like to come watch?” Rowan sets a plate of eggs and toast in front of me, barely looking up from his phone.

“Watch? Like… at the rink?” I blink, my fork hovering in midair.

He finally glances at me, his brow raised. “No, the freeway.”

“Right,” I roll my eyes, but my stomach flips. It’s been so long since I’ve been to an ice rink. Too long. “Sure, I’ll come.”

“Good.” He nods and takes a bite from his eggs.

“Is it okay if Sarah comes with us?” I ask and take a sip of my coffee.

“Sure.” He shrugs as he wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

I eagerly pull out my phone to send her a text. She’d make this whole thing easier to handle.

ME: Practice with the guys today, come with me? Rowan’s dragging me to the rink, and I need backup.

Her reply is instant.

SARAH: Hell, yes. Send me the address.

I breathe a little easier knowing she’ll be there, but the anxiety’s already creeping in from the thought of being near the rink again. I haven’t seen the guys play in person since… I can’t even remember. Every time I’ve watched from a distance, it’s been safe, behind a screen.

Sarah and I meet at the rink an hour later, Rowan leading the way into the arena. It smells like ice and adrenaline—the cold air sharp in my lungs, and the familiar, bittersweet scent of the rink flooding my senses.

We settle into seats near the glass, where the players are already warming up. I see Ares first. He’s hard to miss—tall and stoic, stretching out near the goal. His jet-black hair is slightly damp, falling across his forehead as his icy-blue eyes focus on the ice ahead of him. It’s like he’s somewhere else, lost in his own head.

“Wow,” Sarah whispers, nudging me. “They weren’t kidding about Ares being a beast. He’s like a freaking statue.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, though my eyes aren’t on Ares anymore.

Damien skates onto the ice next, sliding effortlessly across the rink. He’s all confidence, the kind that’s almost infuriating, but there’s something about seeing him here, in this space. He looks natural, at ease yet powerful. The way he holds himself and the way his body moves are like the ice was made for him, not the other way around.

He shoots a glance in our direction, his hazel eyes barely grazing mine before shifting back to his teammates.

Did he see me?

I force myself to look away, but the truth is, I can’t stop watching him. After Rowan gathers everyone to tell them something I can’t hear, they all scatter across the rink. With a blow of the whistle, they’re off.

“They’re so fast,” Sarah breathes with awe. “Look at Damien.”

---