“Former players?” I don’t look at him. “Two were let go after the performance-enhancement suspensions. One swore he’d ‘make it right’ on his way out.”
“Yeah,” Carl says, voice flat.
“Rival teams. Hawkthorn themselves.” I tap my pen. “Or someone who wants the league looking at us instead of them.”
He drops his elbows to the table and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hell.”
When he lifts his head, his eyes find mine, and something electric snaps between us.
His gaze dips to my mouth and away, fast, like refusing to stare into the sun. My stomach flips.
“I’m hungry,” Becky says, appearing from the back. Krystal follows.
“Sit at the table and I’ll fix something,” I tell them.
Carl starts to rise. “I can help.”
I wave him off. “I’ve got this.”
The bus kitchen is closet-sized but stocked.
I find pasta, marinara, cheese, and garlic knots in the freezer. Boiling water as the RV moves requires balance, but I manage.
The aroma attracts Jake and Ash from the front. Jake’s eyes find mine and hold, quiet and steady. I feel that look in my stomach.
“That smells dangerous,” Ash says, reaching above me for the pasta strainer. His arm brushes mine and doesn’t move away.My body remembers last night’s kiss, pulse kicking. He tilts his head like he can hear it.
Jake sets plates on the table then sits next to Krystal. Whatever he says makes her giggle. Carl watches with a rare, fond smile.
I drain the pasta.
Ash steadies the bowl while I toss it with sauce.
His fingers graze mine, heat running up my arm. Intentional or accident?
His expression gives nothing away.
Ash eats fast, like he’s been running on fumes, then leans back with a look that appreciates more than dinner.
It lands low in my belly, my cheeks heating as I remember our kiss.
Jake eats slower.
When he lifts his eyes, he doesn’t look away.
He reaches for water and I pass it.
His fingers slide along my wrist as he takes the bottle. The touch is small, polite, somehow intimate, and my treacherous body reacts.
How can I have just kissed Ash yet get turned on by Jake’s innocent touch? I glance at Carl and our eyes meet. My stomach flip-flops. How can I be attracted to three different men?
Jake raises an eyebrow, seeing my confusion, then offers that dimpled smile. Heat curls through me again.
Jake is a spark under my skin. Ash is gravity, quiet and sure. Carl is stability and responsibility. This is dangerous.
Ash tells a story about a youth tournament where the Zamboni broke and dads shoveled ice with snow shovels while moms lit the stands with phone flashlights.
Jake remembers falling through pond ice because his cousin dared him to jump a crack. Carl listens quietly, finishing his food.