Chapter 16
LEANDER
Iwake up buzzing.
Like, full-body thrumming, a kind of restless, steady hum under my skin that I don’t usually get in the mornings.
Normally, I drag myself out of bed after snoozing the alarm three times, grumbling about the day.
But today? My eyes snap open, lungs fill, and my body feels—God—good. Like I could take on the world.
There’s only one reason for that.
I glance to my right.
Phoenix is sprawled out like he’s been mauled by wolves. This is saying something because if anyone could beat the hell out of wolves and still walk away smirking, it’s him. But right now? He’s wrecked.
His dark hair is a mess, curling against the pillow in every direction.
His lips are parted, swollen, and bruised from last night—bruised because I kissed him like I was starved and maybe bit him once or twice.
His chest rises and falls in deep, even breaths, but he’s twitching occasionally, the way you do when your body’s too tired to relax fully.
The sheets are tangled around his legs, revealing the faint fingerprints along his hips, the ones I left when I held him down. Heat curls low in my stomach.
I did that. I wrecked Phoenix. And he let me.
The thought shouldn’t make me proud, but it does because I’ve seen Phoenix fight tooth and nail against anyone who tries to get the upper hand.
He doesn’t give up control. Not to coaches, not to teammates, not to anyone.
But last night, in our bed, he relinquished every decision, every moment to me.
And it wasn’t some power play. It wasn’t him testing me, or manipulating me, or playing one of his endless games. He wanted it. He wanted me.
My cheeks ache from the smile tugging at them. I flop back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling like maybe if I stop looking at him, I’ll stop grinning like an idiot. Spoiler: it doesn’t work.
I roll out of bed, feet hitting the cold floorboards, and the sight of my phone catches me.
The screen is lit up with missed calls. All from Silas.
My throat tightens. For a second, I almost reach for it, thumb twitching over muscle memory. I used to call him for everything. Big things, little things, didn’t matter—Silas was always my first point of contact. My anchor.
I just stare. Thinking of Phoenix’s face in the car. Because after last night, after the way he looked at Phoenix, after the things he said… I can’t. Silas hurt him. Hurt me. And Phoenix isn’t some monster I need protecting from—he’s the one I want to protect.
So I flip the phone face down and walk away.
The smell of coffee fills the apartment in minutes. I grab Nix’s ridiculous black mug with the gold crown that reads KING CAP, because of course he would have a cringy mug like that—and bring it back carefully.
Phoenix hasn’t moved much. He’s a lump under the sheets, face buried in his pillow, but when I set the mug down, I lean close. “Rise and shine, Cap.”
He groans, voice muffled. “Five more hours.”
I roll my eyes. “Not how it works. I brought you coffee.”
He shifts, peeking out from under his arm. His eyes flick to the mug, then up at me, and he smirks. “You trying to bribe me awake?”
“Maybe.” I shove his shoulder. “Drink it before I do.”
He sits up, groaning like he’s been hit by a truck. When he finally gets the mug in his hands, he sighs after the first sip. “Mm. You remembered.”
“Of course.” I grin. “Too much sugar and mostly cream. Your royal morning elixir.”
His laugh is hoarse, scratchy, but real. He sets the mug down, leans back against the headboard, and I finally get a full look at him.
He’s a mess. Dark circles under his eyes, bruises speckled across his chest and hips, lips still swollen.
“You look like hell,” I blurt.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” His smirk curves lazy, dangerous. “Can’t imagine why.”
I snort. “You’re really that tired?”
“Mm.” He shifts, tilting his head with mock seriousness. “Might have something to do with the way you didn’t prep me properly for your monster cock. Left me sore.”
Blood rushes to my face so fast I’m dizzy. “Jesus, Phoenix—”
He barks a laugh, tipping his head back. “Oh, God. That look. Lee, you’re priceless.”
I groan into my hands. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You love me.” His grin is wolfish. He sets the mug aside and leans in, voice dropping low at my ear. “Say it. Say you love that you broke me in.”
My ears are on fire. “I’m not saying that.”
He nips at my jaw, murmuring, “You wrecked me. You should be proud.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You’re eating this up.” His smirk presses against my cheek. “Besides, you’re walking around like you just won the damn lottery. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
I shove his chest. “Shut up.”
He laughs again, deep and throaty, then flops back against the pillows. “God, I’m too sore for practice.”
The words make my stomach lurch. “Wait—we have practice?”
“Mm-hm.” He cracks one eye open. “But I’m not going.”
My eyes widen. “You’re seriously skipping?”
He grins. “What, worried the team will crumble without me? They’ll survive one day. You should stay too. So you can take care of your patient.” He pouts playfully.
“They’ll notice,” I mutter.
His grin sharpens. “So let them. What are they gonna think? That we’re together? Big deal.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach. “Phoenix—”
He rolls toward me, propping his head on his hand, eyes glittering. “You scared, sweetheart? Scared they’ll figure out who’s been keeping you up at night?”
Heat floods my face again. “You’re such an ass.”
“Mm.” He kisses my cheek, slow and deliberate. “And you like that too.”
I groan, burying my face in the pillow. “I can’t believe I’m even letting you talk like this before I’ve finished my coffee.”
“Correction,” he says smugly, tugging me closer. “Before I’ve finished my coffee. You’re already wide awake. Energized, glowing even. Rookie, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you got laid last night.”
I swat at him, but he catches my wrist, laughing like a devil.
We fall into a rhythm after that day.
I spend the mornings waking up and making our coffee. Whispering sweet things in Phoenix’s ear until I can bribe him into waking up.
Some days, he pulls me against him and groans, “Five more minutes,” into my neck.
And I feel like I couldn’t deny him anything.
At night, Phoenix loves to spoil me in little ways—cooking extravagant dinners, ordering stupidly expensive wine I can’t pronounce, sneaking little gifts into the house like it’s no big deal.
One evening, I joke about how nice his speakers sound compared to my old ones, and the next day, there’s a brand-new surround system set up in the living room.
“Phoenix,” I groan, running my hand through my hair. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Why not?” He shrugs, like money’s nothing. “I made some good investments. I have enough to make sure you never want for anything. That’s all I care about.”
I try to laugh it off, but his words linger. Investments. Enough to spoil me with anything.
“You’re not serious,” I say. “Like—you don’t actually mean you could buy us a whole new house or something.”
Phoenix’s lips curl in that way that makes my stomach drop. “Who says I couldn’t?” He leans closer, voice dipping, teasing. “You want me to buy you a house, baby? More space for us, a yard for… I don’t know, a dog maybe? You want that?”
My chest tightens. Because the way he says us… it sounds permanent. Like a future, I didn’t realize I was already building with him. And instead of terrifying me, it feels safe. Safer than I’ve ever felt.
He laughs. “I can’t believe being domesticated is getting you hard right now.”
I corner him against the wall, my hands already on his hips. “Tell me more about this house you’re going to buy me.”
The bubble isn’t just for us, though.
Jeremy comes over one Friday with Jax in tow, insisting we need a game night.
I half-expect it to be awkward, but it isn’t.
Jax collapses onto the couch like he owns the place, Jeremy brings enough snacks to feed a small army, and soon the living room is filled with laughter and the sound of controllers clicking.
Phoenix is unsurprisingly competitive—snapping at Jeremy when he cheats in Mario Kart, barking orders at Jax like he’s still on the ice.
“Don’t go that way, you idiot. Red shell him! Red shell him!”
I laugh so hard my stomach hurts, watching Phoenix lose his mind over cartoon racing. He catches me staring once and grins, softening instantly, like I’m the only one who exists. And maybe I am, in that moment.
Later, when everyone’s gone and the house is quiet again, I realize how normal it felt. How good. Friends, games, laughter. A life I want to keep.
Valentine’s Day sneaks up on me. I’m not expecting much—I’ve never been the type to make a big deal out of holidays. But Phoenix, of course, has other plans.
“Pack a bag,” he tells me one morning, smirking like he knows he’s about to get away with something.
“What? Why?”
“Because we’re leaving tomorrow. Weekend away. Mountains. Don’t argue.”
“Phoenix—”
“Don’t. Argue.” He leans in and steals a kiss before I can press him further. “Trust me. You’ll like it.”
The drive up to the mountains feels different from every other trip I’ve ever taken.
For once, I’m not thinking about hockey.
I’m not obsessing over drills, shifts, or whether the coaches are counting every mistake on the ice.
There’s no schedule ticking in the back of my mind, no pressure about film sessions or cardio.
The team gave us the weekend off, and Phoenix grabbed the opportunity as if it were the only opening in a crowded defense.
Now it’s just the two of us in his car, the hum of the heater filling the silence as snow builds along the shoulder of the winding road. Phoenix drives with one hand on the wheel, the other stretched casually across the console, fingers brushing mine like even here, he can’t stand not to touch me.