7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Holly
T he locker room buzzes with post-game adrenaline. My heart beats in sync with the thud of hockey pads hitting the floor. I clutch my microphone like a lifeline. But it's not just another interview. Not anymore.
"Great game, Jax," I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside of me. His dimple flashes as he rakes his fingers through sweaty curls.
"Thanks, Hol." His gaze lingers a touch too long, electrifying and dangerous.
"Cam, those saves were unreal tonight," I turn to him, desperate to seem professional.
He nods, that intense green stare piercing through me. "Just doing my job."
And then there's Deacon, leaning against the lockers, all dark wavy hair and smoldering eyes. He winks, and my professionalism falters like thin ice beneath skates.
"Rhodes," I start, but words escape me.
"Looking for a quote, Holly?" he teases, voice low and thrilling.
"Something like that," I manage, swallowing hard.
They're close now, their physical presence an overwhelming force. I remind myself to breathe. This is my job. I have to keep it together.
"Let's wrap this up, boys," I say, even as Cameron brushes past, his arm grazing mine in a whisper of contact that sends shivers down my spine.
"Sure thing," Jaxon says, too close, his breath warm on my cheek.
"See you later?" Deacon asks, his question loaded with promises.
"Professionalism, Holly," I silently chastise myself. But their touches, their looks...they blur the lines.
"Later," I confirm, tucking away the mic, fleeing the heat of their gazes. My skin tingles where they've touched me, a reminder of the secret we're keeping. A secret that could burn my world to the ground.
The hum of the charter flight's engine is a gentle roar in my ears. But it’s nothing compared to the thunder of my heartbeat, loud and insistent, as I sit sandwiched between Cameron and Deacon. The tight space of our seats doesn't allow for much distance, not that any of us seem to want it.
I can’t believe that I agreed to this, to them. I’m risking my career, my reputation, everything. But I can’t seem to walk away. I already tried that after we spent that first night together. Clearly, it didn’t go so well.
"Comfortable?" Cameron's voice is soft, almost lost under the plane's steady drone.
"Very," I lie. Because comfortable isn't the word when every inch of me is hyperaware of their proximity. My skin buzzes where my arm brushes against his, and it's all I can do not to lean into the contact.
Deacon shifts on the other side of me, his leg pressing against mine. It’s an innocent touch, friendly even, but it ignites fires deep within me. I’ve never been this on edge, this hungry for touch. What's happening to me?
"Long flight ahead," Deacon murmurs, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "Hope you brought a good book."
I laugh, though it's more nerves than humor. Book? As if I could focus on reading with them so close.
"Forgot it," I confess. "Guess I'll just have to entertain myself."
"Sure, we can help with that," Jaxon says, leaning over from his seat across the aisle. His dimple flashes, and it's like a direct challenge to my self-control.
"Behave, Jax," I whisper, but my warning lacks bite.
Deacon chuckles softly, the sound low and reassuring. He presses a kiss to my temple, his hand finding mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Boyfriends," I mumble, the word tasting strange on my tongue. It's such an inadequate descriptor for the chaos I've thrown myself into. Three men. All at once. My heart flutters like a trapped bird against my ribcage.
"Hey." Jaxon leans forward from the row beside us. "You okay?"
His concern pierces through the fog of my anxiety. I nod, managing a small smile. "Yeah, just...thinking."
"About?" His gaze is intense, searching.
"Everything," I admit. The risk. The thrill. Them.
"Stop thinking so much," Cameron advises with a playful nudge as he places a gentle hand on my thigh and squeezes. "It'll all work out."
"Easy for you to say," I quip, though the edges of my lips betray me, curving upward. The boys always know how to lighten the mood.
"Try this," Deacon suggests, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. "Focus on the now. On us. On this crazy, amazing thing we have."
"Amazing and insane," I correct him, but there's truth in his words. After that first night, walking away had seemed possible in theory. But in practice, it was like trying to ignore the pull of gravity. Pointless. Impossible.
Jaxon's laugh comes from behind us again. "Insanity can be fun."
"Sure," I agree, "until it all comes crashing down."
"Then we pick up the pieces together," Cameron says firmly. "We're in this with you, Holly. All the way."
"Every step," Deacon adds confidently.
"Every breath," Jaxon finishes for them, his hand squeezing my shoulder in silent solidarity.
I let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of their words settle over me like a protective cloak. I’d signed up for this madness, hadn't I? For better or worse. And despite the fear, despite the very real possibility of losing everything... I can't find it in me to regret it. Not yet. Not with the way my heart races when they look at me like I'm their entire world.
But I’m still scared. Terrified really.
"Okay," I whisper, mostly to myself. "Okay."
"How about a movie?" Cameron suggests, reaching for the screen embedded in the seat in front of him. He browses through the options, his fingers brushing against mine as I help him navigate the menu.
"Perfect," I sigh, grateful for the distraction.
"Got it," he announces, selecting a title at random.
I settle back, trying to focus on the film, but it's useless. Every time Cameron laughs at a scene, or Deacon makes a comment, I'm pulled back into our tangled web.
As the lights dim and the passengers flying with us quiet down, the weight of what we're doing settles heavy on my chest. This secret—us—it feels like a living thing, growing stronger every day.
With the lights lowered and less chance of being caught, Deacon grows bolder. His hand settles on my thigh as his lips press into the space behind my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
Jaxon shoots me a knowing look from across the aisle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I can practically feel his silent approval. Deacon’s touch lingers, sending a rush of heat through me despite the chill of the airplane cabin. His warm breath tickles my skin, and I fight to keep my composure.
Every nerve in my body seems to fire at once, and my breath catches in my throat as Deacon's touch sends a wave of electricity through me. His lips against my skin are both gentle and demanding, igniting a fierce longing deep within me.
I shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not where we can get caught. But I can’t find the words to make him stop because, deep down, I don’t want him to.
My mind swirls with conflicting thoughts, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. Deacon’s touch is both thrilling and dangerous, forbidden yet undeniably enticing. Beside me, Cameron seems engrossed in the movie, unaware of the covert intimacy unfolding in the dimly lit cabin.
But his hand lands heavily on my other knee, giving it a squeeze. The tension between us crackles like a live wire, the air heavy with unspoken desires. I want this, want more. I turn to face Deacon, capturing his lips as he leans forward to press them into my neck once more.
Cameron’s hand squeezes my knee again as Deacon’s starts sliding towards the place my thighs meet. I squirm, anticipating what’s next when the plane jolts. A wave of dizziness and nausea sweeps through me as the plane does it again.
My stomach churns as the plane hits turbulence, mirroring the storm inside me. I grip the armrests, trying to steady my swirling thoughts. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I can't tell if it's from the bumpy flight or the anxiety eating at me.
The plane evens out, but my anxiety doesn’t.
"Hey, you okay?" Cameron's voice is a soft hum beside me.
"Fine," I lie. The word feels like sandpaper in my throat. I'm not fine. Far from it.
"Here." Deacon presses a cold water bottle into my hand. "Drink up."
I nod, taking small sips, grateful for the distraction. But even the cool liquid can't wash away the worry gnawing at my insides.
The team. My job. My brother's trust. Everything could crumble because of what we're doing. Because of what I'm feeling for these three incredible, impossible men.
"Your hands are shaking," Jaxon notes from across the aisle. His frown lines are deep, eyes narrowed with concern.
"Hey," Deacon whispers, squeezing my hand. "We’re here for you, Holly. You know that, right?"
"I know." And I do. Despite the fear, the risk, there's no denying the bond we share. They’re more than just flings to me, more than forbidden fruit. I’m falling for each of them, and it terrifies me as much as it thrills me.
"Good," he smiles, the warmth of the expression chasing away the chill of doubt.
"Try to get some sleep," Cameron advises, his tone gentle.
I lean back, closing my eyes, trying to obey. But sleep proves elusive. I'm too caught up in the mess of emotions, the undeniable desire, and the deep, irrevocable connection that binds me to these three men.
"Thank you," I whisper, not sure if they hear me.
"Anytime," comes the chorus of replies, wrapping around me like a blanket.
And as I sit there, sandwiched between love and fear, I dare to hope that maybe I won't have to choose. Maybe, somehow, we can navigate this crazy game without losing everything.
I close my eyes, leaning into their strength, their warmth. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we can have it all.
"Sleep, Hol," Deacon whispers again, and this time I drift off to the sound of his voice, their presence beside me my comfort and my curse.