Page 153 of Collide
“Why? Did you start playing hockey with the breadsticks?”
“I locked Eli in a freezer.”
I laugh. “Working with your best friend? That must’ve been fun.”
“For me. Not so much for him. It was our family's way of teaching us about hard work. As if we hadn’t spent every last bit of our energy on hockey already.”
When he absently squeezes my leg again, I grab his thigh in retaliation. It reminds me of the ink just below his hip bone. The spider tattoo has been on my mind since the first time I saw it. “What does your tattoo mean?”
He doesn’t look the least bit surprised by the question. “Pulled it from a hat,” he says.
“Huh?”
“When we all moved in together, we came up with a hat of consequences if one of us did something that pissed the other off. We wrote two consequences each and tossed them in a hat.”
“And you pulled that.” The black spider tattoo is in a spot I’ve never seen on a man, but on Aiden, it’s so hot I can’t help the heat on my neck when I think about it. “Did any of the other guys get one?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, the other consequences have been pretty tame…except for the piercing.”
That catches my attention. “The piercing? None of the guys have any.” I've seen them shirtless enough times. I’d know if they did.
“None that you’ve seen.” He pauses. “Or that you’ll ever see.”
“What does that mean?” My mind spins with possibilities. “Oh my god, is it a dick piercing?”
Aiden’s neutral face gives me zero clues.
“Who has it?”
He chuckles at my curiosity. “Can’t say. It’s against the rules.”
“Is it Kian? Wait, no. Dylan?” Our food arrives, and my questions stop until the server leaves. “Eli?”
“Eat, Summer,” he says. I stab my fork into my plate. But I’ll get it out of one of them later. Probably from Kian.
“Summer? Aiden?” Connor Atwood smiles brightly, standing by our table with a grimacing Crystal.
“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while. Why don’t you guys join us?” I offer. Aiden’s hand squeezes my thigh in warning.
Much to my pleasure, Connor accepts.
I guess this is one way to get out of a rut.
52 | AIDEN
“CRAWFORD! GET YOUR ass up. We’re going to be late!”
Hearing Dylan’s voice from downstairs so early in the morning makes me unwrap myself from Summer.
“Bus is leaving in fifteen,” he shouts, rolling out his suitcase.
“What are you saying, D? I’m suspended.”
“Check your phone, man. You’re in. Hutchins approved.” A half-asleep Summer comes up behind me with my phone. Messages clutter my home screen and when I look at my email, it sure as hell it says I’m playing. Summer reads it too, and squeals.
“Oh my God. You’re playing!” She stands on tiptoes to pepper kisses all over my face. I’m still processing, trying to make sense of it when Summer slips back into my room as I get a text.
Coach
