Page 235 of Wrong Pucking Player

Heck, his brother can make one.

When they break the kiss, they share a look so intense, I’m fighting the need to shift in my seat so I can fix my pants, which feel way too fucking tight in the groin area.

“Hey, Kenzie.”

“Evening, Armani,” she greets with a defiant smirk.

“What’s this about you dancing with hockey players?”

“I swear Caren said Hot Players, not Hockey Players, but why do you want to know?” she taunts. “Jealous?”

“You know the answer to that,” he tosses back with a husky voice that’s close to a growl.

The tension is practically consuming the atmosphere here.

“I do,” she admits. “But I love hearing it leave your lips. Makes me far too amused seeing you frustrated.”

“Of course,” he grunts with an eye roll. “Which team is it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Why does it matter?”

“We gotta make sure we dominate their asses on the ice, so I can remind them who’s our team nurse,” he vouches and relaxes back into the cushioned bench. “Otherwise, they’ll think you’re available.”

“Possessive and overprotective,” she sighs. “Be lucky I tolerate you.”

“Because you love my grumpy ass,” he tosses back at her, to which she grins and further wiggles between us.

The level of silence that follows is thankfully broken by the cocktail waitress.

“Second round of beers with seven extra beers. Five for him and two for the ladies. Feel free to call me for more and when you want to order food.”

Even after she leaves, none of us say a word.

“C’mon guys,” Xandra begins as she reaches for her beer and enjoys a swig of it. “If you guys are going to be frozen up for the rest of the night, say so now so we can go over to Blood Rock to dance.”

“It’s like they’ve never seen a polyamorous relationship before.” Caren dramatically sighs before she reaches over for her beer and leans right over the table to offer cheers to Xandra. “Good fucking job, Andrews. Reeling in Cyrus Jr. and Armani deserves some mad props.”

“You make it seem like she earned a trophy.” Oscar groans and reaches for his beer.

“Didn’t she?” Caren counters with a question. “Anyone who can handle your grumpy ass has balls. Now, to love you on a tolerable scale? That’s a real pussy that can take a pounding.”

“Damn,” Axel whispers. “Have we transcended to a new dimension? Because Ross is acting like a cool bitch, and Andrews is dating Armani and Cyrus Jr.”

“You’re not hallucinating,” I chip in as I reach for my bottle and relax back. My right hand ends up moving to grip Xandra’s left thigh. I notice I’m craving to keep my hand on her in some way.

“We’re dating. The three of us.”

I thought it would be harder to say that out loud, but it’s not. My voice is firm but holds a sense of calm. I feel like I’m executing the perfect level of confidence, which I think is because of Armani’s presence and how relaxed he’s been this entire time.

I wonder what’s running through Xandra’s head, but it could be the alcohol that’s making this easy for her.

There’s really no going back now.

The guys exchange a look as the three of us take a go at our beers.

“It’s about fucking time.”

All eyes fall on Diesel who doesn’t seem bothered by the entire ordeal.

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