Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Landon
I knew staying here would be a terrible idea, but Leila had insisted—and when my sister insists on something, you don’t have a choice in the matter.
Abby broke my heart in ways that can never be repaired.
She knew how important that day was for me and Levi.
We were waiting for the call. The one that would change everything and determine if we made it.
When we got back to the house after signing with the Wolves, she was gone.
No note, no explanation, nothing. When we tried to call her, our numbers were blocked.
She’d disappeared from social media like she had never existed at all.
Anastasia had warned us that openly sharing a girlfriend would be a shit show at that point in our careers. So Levi had agreed that he would walk away and let Abby and me be happy. But I would never have done that to him. We’re brothers, and I knew he loved her as much as I did.
So we talked to Abby and explained that we needed to keep things quiet until we proved ourselves in the NHL and showed the world we could handle the pressure and the attention.
Anastasia agreed it was a good idea, saying it would give us time to see if a long-distance relationship even worked out before we derailed our careers.
It seemed reasonable, though Abby didn’t see it that way and insisted that Anastasia wanted us for herself.
Once Abby ghosted us, I begged Leila to find out what was going on, to tell me something—anything—to help me understand. But she insisted she didn’t know, only that Abby had said we had broken up and it wouldn’t work, and we should respect that she was hurting.
SHE WAS HURTING.
How rich is that?
“So Leila called,” Levi says, setting down his weights with a grunt. “And she’s pissed.”
I set down my own weights and pick up a towel, wiping my face. “About what?”
“About us and Abby, and the fact that she can’t have a normal family holiday because apparently the two of us can’t get our shit together.” Levi reaches for his water bottle and takes a long drink. “She said if we don’t fix things with Abby, we’re not invited to Christmas this year.”
I freeze, my towel halfway to my face. “She didn’t.”
“She did,” Levi confirms, a hint of amusement in his voice, which is infuriating. “Our sister basically told us we’re not welcome at the family Christmas if we don’t make peace with the girl who ghosted us without an explanation.”
“How are we supposed to fix something when we don’t even know what we did?” I demand, my frustration taking over. “She won’t talk to us about it, and every time I try to approach her, she looks like she wants to stab me with the nearest sharp object.”
“She kneed me in the nuts the other day, so there’s definitely some hostility there,” Levi says, a grin spreading across his face.
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” Levi insists, dropping onto the bench and stretching his legs out in front of him.
“But seriously, I think Abby was jealous of Anastasia. Remember how she always said that Anastasia wanted our cocks? She was probably threatened by her, especially since Anastasia was in our orbit more than she was, and we were building our careers.”
I sit across from him, my towel draped around my neck. The weight room is mostly empty now; it’s just the two of us and a couple other guys from our team in the far corner, but they’re too focused on their own workouts to pay us any attention.
“Levi, Anastasia didn’t want—” I start, then stop myself. This isn’t the time to rehash this. We’ve been over this a thousand times in the years since it happened, and it never gets us anywhere. “Look, Abby made her choice. She cut us off, and that’s on her.”
Yet even as I say it, I don’t believe it.
I remember the way Abby used to look at me, as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered apart from my brother.
The way she laughed at my jokes and challenged me, the way she made me feel like I was more than a hockey player or a pretty face. But then one day, she didn’t.
“Maybe everything worked out for the best,” I say, more to convince myself.
“I’ve watched other players unable to cope with long-distance relationships with their wives.
Some of them burned out, and others made stupid decisions because they were lonely.
Maybe it was exactly what we needed so we could focus on our careers without the distraction. ”
Levi makes a noncommittal sound. “And yet, seeing her again made you feel like you’d been hit by a truck.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Levi says, standing up and stretching. “I watched you in that kitchen. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, even when she was clearly plotting your murder. And when you left, you looked like someone had ripped your chest open and stolen your heart.”
“Dramatic much?” I snap.
“I’m just saying, maybe Leila has a point. We do need to figure out what went wrong.” Levi grabs his gym bag. “I’m heading to the shower. You coming?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be there in a few minutes—I need to cool down first.”
Actually, what I need is to figure out how to spend the next few weeks in the same house as Abby without either of us ending up in prison. Or without me doing something completely stupid, like kissing her until she remembers why she fell for me in the first place.
Maybe everything didn’t work out for the best, and it’s all been a terrible mistake. Seeing her again has made me realize how much I missed having her in my life, even as a friend.
Once Levi returns from the shower, I quickly gather my stuff and head in while he talks to some of the guys. Once I strip down, I stand under the spray of hot water, letting it pound against my shoulders and neck, trying to wash away the frustration and confusion.
Abby’s face flashes through my mind—the anger in her eyes, the way her lips curled when she told me to get out of the kitchen, and the hurt behind it all because of me, even if I don’t fully understand why.
I’m toweling off when I hear the locker door open. It’s a shared space, so I barely glance up, but then Tate walks in shirtless. His eyes find me standing there completely naked, water still dripping down my chest, and something shifts between us.
His gaze travels down my body slowly, taking in every inch of me.
His pupils dilate, and his breathing hitches.
Heat curls low in my stomach at the unmistakable hardness growing in his shorts.
My cock responds immediately, filling with blood.
Every rational thought I’ve had about boundaries and professionalism dissolves in an instant.
I stalk toward him, completely unbothered by my nudity. He tries to back away, but there’s nowhere for him to go, and I pin him against the lockers with my arms on either side of his head.
“Do you like what you see?” I ask, my voice low and my face inches from his.
Tate flushes, and pink spreads down his neck and across his chest. “Landon, this isn’t—”
“Isn’t what?” I interrupt, my eyes tracing the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Isn’t something you want? Because your body’s telling me a very different story, Coach.”
I lean closer, close enough to feel the warmth of him. His chest heaves, and his hands clench into fists at his sides, like he’s trying to hold himself back from touching me.
“I could pin you right here against these lockers,” I murmur, my lips barely an inch from his ear. “Fuck you until you forget your own name. Until you’re begging me for more.” I pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want that.”
He shakes his head, but his eyes beg as his hips shift forward slightly, seeking friction.
I slide my hand down his chest slowly, feeling his muscles tense beneath my palm. My fingers trace the line of his abdomen, then dip lower until I reach the waistband of his shorts. Without breaking eye contact, I slip my hand inside and wrap my fingers around his hard cock.
Tate gasps and his head falls back against the locker with a soft thud as his hips buck into my hand.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been hard for me,” I whisper, stroking him slowly. “I remember the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t paying attention.”
His breathing is ragged, and his hands finally move to grip my shoulders. His knees buckle slightly as I increase the pressure of my strokes.
“Lan—” he starts, but I cut him off by sucking his earlobe into my mouth, my tongue flicking against it. The sound he makes—a low, desperate moan—goes straight to my cock.
“You want this,” I murmur against his ear. “You want me. Stop lying to yourself.”
His hips thrust into my hand, his grip on my shoulders tightening, and his nails dig into my skin.
I can feel him trembling.
Pulling back slightly, but still stroking him, I take in his glazed eyes, and his pupils blown wide. His chest heaves with every breath.
“Say it,” I demand softly. “Say you want me.”
His jaw clenches as his eyes squeeze shut. “I can’t . . .”
“You can,” I insist as my thumb circles the head of his cock, pulling a strangled sound from deep in his throat. “You can, and you will.” I increase my pace, my movements becoming more intense.
Tate’s entire body goes rigid, his breaths becoming shallow and fast. His hands grip my shoulders so hard I’m sure there will be marks, and I find I don’t care. I want the marks as proof that it happened. That he let me do this.
“That’s it,” I whisper against his ear, my other hand coming up to grip the back of his neck, holding him in place. “Let go for me, Tate. I want to feel it.”
His hips thrust upward one more time, and then he comes, his body shaking as he spills into my hand. Tate’s mouth falls open in a silent cry, and he buries his face against my shoulder, his entire body trembling with the force of his release.
“Fuck,” he gasps against my skin.
I continue stroking him, feeling every pulse and shudder of his body. When he finally goes still, I slowly withdraw my hand, stepping back just enough to give him space to breathe. He’s leaning heavily against the locker, his legs unable to support his full weight, eyes still closed.
“Look at me,” I whisper.
Slowly, he opens his eyes, and the vulnerability in his gaze nearly undoes me.
“This doesn’t change anything,” he says, his voice shaky. “Between us or with the team. This can’t happen again.”
“We’ll see,” I say, licking his cum from my hand as he watches on wide-eyed. I smirk at him, then turn my back to get dressed before Levi comes to find out what is taking me so long.
Behind me, I can hear the thud as Tate slides down to sit on the bench, and I can’t help the small, satisfied smile that crosses my face.
Tate might think this is over, but it’s only just beginning.