Page 96 of Second Shot

Inside, the villa is even more spectacular than the exterior promised. The main living area features soaring ceilings, white marble floors, and furniture that manages to be both elegant and comfortable. Floor-to-ceiling windows open onto terraces that provide panoramic views of the sea, while carefully placed mirrors and crystal accents catch and reflect the natural light in ways that make the whole space seem to glow.

“Gentlemen,” Dimitri continues, “let me show you to your accommodations. The villa features six bedrooms, each with private bathrooms and terraces. The master suite, as requested, has been reserved for Mr. Caldwell and Mr. Jacobs.”

Niko shoots us a grin that’s part mischief, part genuine happiness for our relationship. “Told you I’d take care of the lovebirds.”

The master suite turns out to be on the villa’s top level, accessible by a private staircase that makes it feel like our own separate world. The bedroom is enormous, with a king-sized bed positioned to take advantage of floor-to-ceilingwindows that open onto a private terrace. But it’s the bathroom that makes me actually gasp. A sunken marble tub positioned so you can soak while watching the sunset over the Aegean.

“This is insane,” I murmur, stepping out onto our private terrace where lounge chairs and a small table create an intimate seating area. “Renting this place must be a small fortune.”

“Niko’s treat,” Gabe says, wrapping his arms around me from behind as we look out over water that’s so blue it doesn’t seem real. “His way of celebrating not just winning the Cup, but having his friends to share it with.”

“We’ll have to pick up the bar tab while we’re here. I’ll feel too guilty otherwise.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Gabe nods. “And some dinners too.”

Below us, I can hear the others exploring their own rooms, voices echoing through the villa as they discover marble showers and private terraces and views that belong on postcards. But Kincaid’s voice carries a different tone, tense, apologetic. I realize he’s on the phone instead of exploring the villa.

“I told you, Tiff, it’s just a few week with the guys,” he’s saying, his words drifting up from the terrace below ours. “We just won the Stanley Cup. That’s fucking huge, baby. This is... this is important.”

Gabe and I exchange a look. Kincaid’s been dealing with girlfriend drama since the moment Niko announced this trip, and apparently it’s followed him all the way to Greece.

“No, baby, I’m not saying you’re not important too.” Kincaid’s voice wobbles. “I have plenty of time off until we go back to training. I’m going to come see you, I promise. No, of course it’s not a chore. I want to see you.”

“Ouch,” Gabe says. “He can’t say anything right.”

“She’s definitely not happy about the boy’s trip,” I murmur.

“Would you be?” Gabe replies. “If your boyfriend chose to spend his post-championship celebration with his teammates instead of you?”

“You have a point, but he’s not spending the whole break with us. Just a couple of weeks.” I grimace. “Besides, how could he say no to Niko? They’re like best buddies and Niko has been planning this trip with all of us in mind.”

“Niko could have told Kincaid to invite Tiffany.”

“Yeah, he could have.” I shrug. “But he didn’t.”

Gabe rubs his chin. “Don’t you think it’s odd Niko never wants the significant others included in anything he plans? His Super BowlParty he didn’t want anyone but the team, now this trip. He’s always super protective of his alone time with the team.”

“I think we’re all he has here in the US. All of his family is back in Sweden.”

“Yeah, that’s true. He might depend on the team to keep him from feeling lonely.”

“Come on,” Kincaid’s voice continues from below, “it’s not like that. These guys are my teammates. My friends. We just accomplished something incredible together.”

There’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, more strained.

“No, I’m not choosing them over you. That’s not... that’s not what this is about. Niko really wanted me here and I felt bad saying no.” He sighs. “Of course I feel bad saying no to you too, baby.”

“Poor bastard,” Gabe murmurs, but his attention is already shifting back to our private paradise. “Good thing we don’t have to deal with that kind of drama.”

He’s right. Whatever complications exist in our teammates’ relationships, Gabe and I have found something that feels unshakeable. We’re still learning how to navigate the public attention that comes with being Stanley Cup champions, still figuring out how to balance career demandswith building a life together, but solid in a way that makes everything else feel manageable.

“I love you,” I tell him, turning in his arms so I can see his face. “I love that we’re here together. I love that we get to share this with people who matter to us.”

“Me too. And I’m especially glad that we get our own suite.” He kisses me and as usual just the touch of his lips ignites something inside me. Sometimes I feel like a Coleman stove when he kisses me. One push of my button and I’m on fire.

The kiss intensifies and I moan into his greedy mouth. He has my pants unzipped within seconds, but I put my hands on his biceps to stop him.

“Should we be doing this right now?” I ask, my dick aching for his touch.

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