Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
JASPER
Training was a nightmare today.
Roman convinced Coach to crank up the drills just to be a dick. And after the way Zeke and I had him coming apart this morning, you’d think he’d be a little nicer… But nope, Roman Ashford clearly gets off on watching us all suffer.
The truth is, I don’t even care. I’ll still offer him my ass later without a second thought. It is his birthday, after all, and God help me, I love how the man fucks.
My face pressed into the mattress, his hand fisting my hair, and his thick cock driving so deep it’s like my body was made just to take him.
Yeah, he can be as much of a bastard on the ice as he wants, and I’ll still be begging for him by the time tonight’s over.
We rolled out of the rink a little after six, hit the showers and changed, and now, a couple of hours later, we’re sitting at a corner table in Angelo’s, celebrating Roman’s birthday.
To everyone around us, we probably just look like three friends grabbing a late dinner, laughing too loudly, and stealing each other’s fries.
But nobody sees the truth written into every part of me—that these men are mine.
Zeke and Roman are carved into my soul, stitched into my skin, and burned into every choice I make.
There’s no version of me that exists without them.
It feels just as good knowing it now as it did the day Roman finally stopped fighting what he felt for me and Zeke and let himself fall. The stubborn ass held out longer than I thought he would, but damn if the fall wasn’t worth the wait.
We started off playing on the same team, built our bond in the grind of practices and the pressure of games, and forged a friendship I always thought would stay simple.
But it didn’t.
The attraction didn’t ease its way in—it crashed into us, violent and undeniable, hitting fast and hard until it was all Zeke and I could think about.
Every time I tried to get him to just fucking kiss me, because I knew he wanted to, he’d grit his teeth, mutter something about boundaries, and put another mile between us.
He was determined to bury what was burning between the three of us, but desire like that doesn’t just disappear.
And the second he broke—fuck—it was one of the best days of my life.
He stopped running and finally admitted with his mouth, his hands, and his whole body that he was just as desperate for us as we were for him.
From then on, there was never going to be anyone else for any of us.
That door closed the second we let each other in.
One day, I’m going to sit in this same restaurant, maybe even this exact seat, and I’m going to touch them the way I want to. I’ll lace my fingers through Zeke’s and lean over and kiss Roman without worrying who’s looking or what they might say.
One day, the whole world will know that these two men belong to me, and anyone who doesn’t like it can literally go fuck themselves into oblivion.
Face-first.
Bare-assed.
Whatever works.
But for now, I keep my mouth shut.
Not because I’m scared. I’d burn the world down for them without blinking, but they deserve peace. They deserve something that’s just ours, without the cameras and the headlines and the bloodthirsty motherfuckers who don’t know a goddamn thing about real love.
Tonight’s supposed to be about celebrating Roman.
Not thinking about Colorado.
Not thinking about going back to where it all started.
And definitely not thinking about the blonde still living there.
Except sometimes I think I can still taste her lips.
Addison Hope is the only girl I’ve ever been crazy about.
From day one, I was obsessed—craving everything she tried to keep off-limits.
She didn’t reveal much back then, not with all the Roman shit weighing her down before we got close enough for her to trust me, but I knew.
I wasn’t blind to the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention, and over time, I knew the pull wasn’t one-sided.
That’s why, when the chance finally came, I didn’t hesitate.
Addie never wanted to get stuck in that town, and yet, that’s exactly what happened.
She married some floppy fuckboy who could never deserve her, not in a million years.
And the worst part is that there’s a piece of me that hates her for it.
I hate that she fell in love, and of all the people in the world, it had to be with Mikey King.
I’m not an idiot. I knew she’d move on. It’s been five years. But if I had it my way, she would’ve been part of us. She would’ve fit into the life we built and the dream we crafted, just like she was always meant to.
“Have you heard from your parents?” Roman asks, spearing something green and boring as hell off his plate, and I nod as he chews on whatever rabbit food he ordered.
Roman’s always been strict with his diet, but it fits him. It fits the part of him that needs to have his shit together at all times, no cracks, no slipups, just complete control.
Whereas I’ve got the biggest fucking steak on the menu sitting in front of me, bleeding just the way I like it.
“Are they okay?” Zeke asks.
“Yeah,” I say, carving off a chunk of meat. “They’re thinking of visiting for a week after the holidays and asked if they could stay at the house.”
Roman raises an eyebrow. “And you said?”
“I told them if they want to torture themselves, be my guest.”
Laughter ripples around the table because they both know damn well I’m not lasting a week without putting my hands on them. Zero chance. If that means Sandra and Hank have to hear their golden boy getting railed by these two men sitting next to me… well, that’s on them. They’ve been warned.
My parents and Zeke’s mom have always known about the three of us. It helps that my mom and dad are the kind of people who’d welcome a three-ring circus into their living room if it meant their kid was happy; open-minded doesn’t even begin to cover it.
When they saw us together, when they realized what we had and how we just fit, they looked at us and basically said, “Cool. More people to love.”
Zeke’s mom is a whole different kind of incredible.
Jules is the gentlest soul you’ll ever meet, which is exactly why Zeke has a heart bigger than most people’s entire personalities.
She didn’t even bat an eye when she saw the way we loved each other; she just opened her arms like it was the most natural thing in the world and pulled me and Roman in as if we were hers too.
And Jesus Christ, Roman needed that more than he’ll ever admit. He needed someone to hold him without conditions or expectations—just arms around him to remind him that he was more than enough.
Roman’s demons are carved deep by two piss-poor parents. One’s probably strung out in a ditch somewhere, while the other is probably whoring herself through some dead-end town.
Thank God the selfish motherfuckers stay away.
Roman got chewed up and spit out by the system, and even if he swears he “had it better than most,” we know he’s spent most of his life feeling alone.
Until her.
Until us.
“Speaking of torture…” I mutter, resting my fork beside my plate.
“Don’t,” Roman snaps, his voice like a whip. “Not today.”
“Come on, we need to talk about it. I’ll call a vote if I have to.”
“This can’t just be a fucking vote, Jasper,” Roman bites back, throwing down his fork. “It’s got to be all of us agreeing, or none of us. We can’t half-ass this.” He leans back, dragging a hand down his face, like he’s already exhausted by the conversation.
“This needs to be about Coach. Not Addison,” Zeke adds.
“Chances are, we won’t see her. Obviously, we’ll see her at the ceremony, but it’s one night. One fucking night. We’re adults, and fuck me, it’s been five years.” I think I need to go. I think I need to see her, look her in the eye, and feel absolutely nothing. “Besides, she could be hideous now.”
Zeke shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You know Mikey wouldn’t have been caught dead with someone who didn’t look like a trophy wife.”
“Unless he’s let himself go too,” I shoot back, grinning as I tear into another bite of steak. “Which, you know… I fucking hope so because we’re hot as shit.”
Zeke leans back in his chair, that beautiful smile curving his mouth as he tilts his head at me. “You think she’s going to take one look at you and realize what a colossal mistake Mikey King was?”
“You know it, baby. I’m fucking irresistible.”
The only reason we can talk about her like this and pretend we’re unaffected by the situation is because she’s the one exception—the only one there’s ever been and the only one there ever could be.
If any of us even so much as thought about touching another man or woman, it wouldn’t just hurt.
It would tear apart everything we’ve built.
It would be over, done, crushed into dust before it even had a chance to bleed out and permanently stain what we have.
We belong to each other, and I’ve never—not even in my weakest, most loneliest moments—ever been tempted to fuck that up, and I never will.
“Fuck,” Roman mutters, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “We’re doing this, aren’t we?”
I lean back, exhaling slowly. “I’ll talk to Coach tomorrow. Explain that we’re going to need a few days away.”
“I’ll find us somewhere to stay while we’re there,” Zeke says, already pulling out his phone.
“Make sure it has a large room, with one bed. Big enough for all three of us,” Roman says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m not sleeping away from you two.”
I slide my hand onto his thigh under the table, pressing my palm against the hard muscle there, letting him feel me.
My big guy is strong as hell on the outside, but he carries a layer of insecurity he never should’ve been saddled with, all because too many people broke him before anyone ever thought to hold him together.
I’m pretty sure it started from the way he was treated at home, and when he landed in the system, things only got worse.
He bounced between places that didn’t give a damn about him, and he was battered mentally and physically until surviving became the only thing he knew how to do.
If I could track down every asshole who hurt him, I’d rip their spines out without a second thought.
All Zeke and I can do now is give him whatever he needs. Let him take whatever he wants and ensure he never has to question if he’s loved. And if he needs to keep us close, even while he sleeps, then that's exactly where we'll be.
“I’ll take care of it, baby, okay?” Zeke whispers, and under the table, I feel Roman’s leg slowly settle under my hand. “I do think we need to figure out how we’re going to navigate going back there though.”
“Pretty sure all we can do is face it head-on and get it the fuck over with,” Roman mutters.
“Well, screw it,” I say, shrugging, bumping Roman’s shoulder. “We’ll head up to the mountains and try to make the best of it.”