Page 16 of Playing Rough

I open my mouth to spit out an angry retort when a voice interrupts from the doorway.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt." London leans casually against the frame, expression mild. "Coach sent me to grab Riot for a team meeting."

My father's glare flickers between us. I bite my tongue and nod.

"We'll finish this discussion another time," I grit out, brushing past my father without another glance. His stern disapproval follows me out like a storm cloud.

Hockey is my blood and breath. The ice is my true home. He'll never understand that.

London falls into step beside me as we escape down the hallway. "You good?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the assist," I mutter, residual anger still simmering in my blood. "Guy just doesn't know when to let things go."

"I told you I’ve got your back, Ri." London bumps my shoulder lightly. His casual affection loosens the knot in my chest.

Maybe having the guys here this weekend won't be so bad after all. If anyone can distract me from my family's suffocating expectations, it's my rowdy crew.

Voices echo from the patio doors leading outside. I follow them across the massive kitchen to find the team gathered around the indoor pool housed in a sprawling glass atrium. Steam rises gently from the heated water as pop music pumps from a speaker.

Laughter rings out as Lucas and Teo wrestle at the pool's edge. Nearby, Si floats lazily on an inflatable flamingo, sipping something fruity from a hollowed pineapple. The crisp autumn rain patters against the glass walls. In Washington state, swimming’s an indoor sport.

"Cannonball!" Tristan yells, sprinting past me in his neon swim trunks. He leaps into the air and crashes into the water, drenching half the guys lounging poolside.

Spluttering cries sound as they scramble away from the tidal wave. Tristan surfaces, cackling wildly.

"You little punk!" Lucas growls, wiping water from his face. "You're gonna pay for that."

Grinning, he grabs Tristan in a headlock and drags him back into the churning water. I chuckle under my breath at their antics, already feeling myself start to relax.

Shaking off the self-pity, I change into some swim trunks and make my way back to the atrium to join the crew. A chorus of greetings goes up as I step into the room.

"There he is, the man of the hour!" Tristan crows, raising his solo cup with a grin. He's always been able to read my moods freakishly well.

"Took you long enough to bring your pasty ass out here," Deck calls out. "We're just about to start a round of chicken fights. You in?"

"Hell yeah." I force myself to mirror Tristan's easy smile. "Just don't cry when I knock you on your ass."

A cluster of teammates whoops as I stride over and snag a beer from the cooler. The rain sprinkles down from a heavily clouded sky as pop music pulses from a nearby speaker.

Laughter echoes across the pool as the first chicken fight begins. Tristan, perched on Teo's shoulders, grapples with Luc, who sits on top of Bear's mountainous frame. I find myself scanning the deck for that familiar blond head I've come to automatically seek out.

London's sprawled on a lounge chair in the shade like he owns this house, not me, chatting with Knight and Teddy. His hair looks almost white under the lights. Dark glasses shade his eyes even though it’s cloudy, but his mouth splits into a grin at something Knight says.

I feel a twinge of disappointment when those hazel eyes don't immediately seek me the way I do him. Shaking it off, I twist the cap off my beer and take a long pull, let the cold alcohol soothe my earlier agitation.

"Come on, Kensington!" Lucas calls out from the pool. "Bring that fight into the water!"

I toss my shirt aside and wade into the warm water. Lucas swims over with a challenging grin and dunks below the surface, and I climb onto his shoulders. As he pops back up, I brace myself.

Across from us, Si clambers up onto Teddy's shoulders, an eager glint in his usually placid eyes. The puck heads on either side of me egg us on as Lucas and Teddy wade into shallower water, squaring off.

"You're going down this time, Kensington," Si taunts me. Out of my teammates, he's the one who comes closest to matching my competitive edge.

Well, besides London.

I bare my teeth in a sharp grin, flexing my fingers. "In your dreams, Ivanov."

At Deck's whistle, we crash together, grappling and shoving to throw the other off balance. Lucas staggers under my weight but I squeeze my knees, keeping purchase. With a heave, I get one arm hooked under Si's armpit and yank hard, toppling him backwards into the churning water.

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