33. Dylan
DYLAN
I swear to God, if I hear Ethan sigh one more time, I’m going to whip him with my resistance band.
I do my best not to look at him through the mirror as I go through my exercises with Nolan, the trainer I’ve been working with the past couple of days.
However, every now and again, I catch glimpses of him between reps.
He looks far sexier than he has any right to in a pair of loose black, knee-length shorts that show off his muscular calves and an oversized white workout top with the large arm holes.
It’s a mouthwatering sight, to say the least.
Still, I’m too aggravated with him to let myself be distracted by the amount of skin he has on display.
His hovering all week is driving me in-fucking-sane.
Not to mention, I’m still fuming over his blatant disrespect for my privacy.
He was in his room last night when I got home, so I didn’t get to chew him out, and it felt wrong to do it today—what with it being game day and all.
I get why he did it—he’s worried. They all are in their own way, but Ethan has taken it to a whole new level.
All week, he’s barely let me out of his sight.
When he does, it’s only because he’s handed me off to Finn, Jax, or Griffin, like I’m some delicate package that needs to be constantly monitored.
And when Kyle’s around? He acts like he’s Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible , diving in to control the situation before I can even process it.
He treats me like I’m his problem to fix. His to protect. Especially when he looks at me the way he is right now, gray-blue eyes boring into me, seeing everything, assessing, scrutinizing, analyzing. It messes with my head when he looks at me like that.
The problem is, it’s not just that he invaded my privacy.
It’s that, a part of me fucking liked it.
Yes, I’m as fucked up as Wren because, although I didn’t say it aloud, I did get a stupid little flutter at the fact he would go that far to ensure I’m safe.
A bigger part than I care to acknowledge wants to wave the white flag and let him do his macho bullshit and come to my rescue every time.
My whole body reacts when he does. My stomach tightens, and my pulse jumps when his body shields mine and his voice drops into something dark and commanding.
However, the logical part of my brain realizes that I can’t let myself get used to his protection.
Just like I can’t get used to Griffin sleeping in my bed every night or feeling Jax’s comforting stare throughout the day.
I can’t allow myself to drop my guard and let these guys in.
I won’t . I’ve already learned the hard way that those you let in, those you love, leave.
Whether by choice or not. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.
The one and only time I dropped my guard and allowed someone else to hold me up, I severely learned my lesson.
It’s not one I need to be taught twice.
Of course, that does little to subdue the all-out battle being waged inside me. It’s a goddamn war zone inside my head. And every minute spent around Ethan, Griffin, Jax, or Finn only escalates the conflict.
I push through another rep, my muscles burning, sweat prickling against my skin.
We’re focusing on keeping my muscles loose and active, since I can’t participate in on-ice drills or scrimmages.
Although I’m hoping to be back on the ice for practices, if not games, next week.
I don’t think I can stand another week of sitting on the sidelines, watching instead of participating.
“You’re favoring your right side.”
My gaze snaps to the mirror. Ethan is watching me with narrowed eyes, giving a barely-there shake of his head. “Straighten your back.”
I inhale sharply through my nose, but adjust my stance, ignoring the pull of fatigued, overworked, bruised muscle. “I’m aware ,” I grit out.
Ethan tilts his head. “Then fix it.”
I slam my arm back down, letting the resistance band I’ve been working with for the past hour go slack as I glare at him through the mirror.
“Don’t you have your own training to focus on?” I snap. “Warm-ups or some pre-game routine to carry out?”
“Nope.” He pops the p , folding his arms across his chest as he makes himself comfortable against the wall. It only irritates me more.
“She’s doing fine, Ethan,” Nolan interjects, his tone even but firm. “She’s still working through the stiffness in her ribs. It’s about activation, not overexertion.
Ethan doesn’t look away from me. “Overexertion isn’t the problem. She’s holding back.”
My fingers twitch. I swear to God ? —
Before I can say anything, another trainer walks over, calling Nolan’s name.
“Hey, can I grab you for a sec?” the guy asks.
Nolan glances between me and Ethan before nodding. “Yeah, just a minute.” He looks back at me. “Keep going, I’ll be right back. ”
He walks off, leaving me alone with Ethan.
The moment the door swings shut behind them, I explode. “What are you doing here, Ethan?”
Now that we’re alone, he pushes off the wall and moves closer.
“It’s my shift,” he counters, like that explains it, except Jax and Finn haven’t felt the need to sit in on my physio sessions.
Admittedly, I can’t envision Griffin doing anything other than staring unblinking at me throughout the entire session, but thankfully, he hasn’t been on duty when I’ve had one.
“Then go wait outside.” I fling my arm toward the door.
“You don’t need to be by my side every second of the day.
” Instead of heading out of the room, he moves closer.
His long legs eat up the distance between us, even as I step back in a bid to maintain it.
“I can’t breathe with you constantly in my space,” I toss at him. “I can’t think. I can’t?—”
His hand snaps out, fingers curling around my throat as he drags me closer. I gasp as my body collides with his, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
“You think I want this?” he grits out, voice dark and strained.
“You think I like being stuck in this fucking hell where I can’t let you out of my sight?
Where I wake up every damn day knowing that if I let my guard down for even a second, something could happen to you?
” His fingers flex against my throat. “Because I don’t. ”
I stare up at him, chest heaving, pulse rioting against my ribs.
His grip tightens.
My core clenches.
And then he snaps.
In a blur of movement, my back hits the wall. I barely feel the coolness against my overheated skin before his mouth crashes against mine .
I let out a sharp gasp, but he doesn’t give me room to breathe.
His hands bracket my face, fingers digging in, controlling the angle, the pace.
It’s all-consuming, this kiss—heated and desperate, a battle neither of us can win.
His teeth scrape against my bottom lip before his tongue sweeps inside, taking, claiming, owning .
“Do you have any idea how often I’ve thought about this?
” he rasps, ripping his lips away but remaining fully in my space, taking up all of my oxygen.
“Even though I shouldn’t. You’re a player and I’m the captain, and if you were anyone else I wouldn’t, but it has been driving me insane knowing that my friends, my roommates, my teammates have tasted your lips, and I haven’t.
” His nostrils flare, pale blue eyes boring into mine with so much raw heat that it leaves me parched.
His words slowly penetrate, and my eyes widen, realizing he overheard my conversation with Wren.
“Careful, Dylan. You’re playing a dangerous game.
” At the time, I’d thought he was referencing me kissing the other guys, but now I wonder, did he mean himself?
Was Ethan…jealous? My lips part, and Ethan takes that as an invitation, ducking his head and sweeping his tongue inside my mouth.
He kisses me until all I see, all I think of, is him .
My hands fist in the pathetic excuse of a top that he’s wearing. I intend to push him away. That’s exactly what I should do, but instead I end up pulling him closer.
Fuck it. Breathing is overrated anyway.
I arch into him, my breasts dragging along the hard planes of his chest as my hands roam freely over the expanse of smooth skin. His muscles flex and tighten beneath my touch, while my own body turns soft and pliable.
I’m two seconds from wrapping my legs around his waist and clinging to him like a spider monkey when the door opens. We spring apart like two teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t.
“How’s it going in here?” Nolan asks, lifting his head from the clipboard in his hand.
Clearing his throat, Ethan turns away, keeping his back to Nolan as he adjusts the obvious erection tenting the thin fabric of his shorts.
“Fine.” My voice sounds anything but, and I focus on the resistance band, going back to my movements as I try again. “Think I’ve got the muscles in my chest and back all worked out.”
“Good.” Nolan appears oblivious as he moves farther into the room, dropping the clipboard before approaching me. “Let’s move on to your legs then.”
For the next hour, tension crackles in the air and my lips tingle like they’ve been stung by a dozen bees, and any time I accidentally catch Ethan’s eyes, everything in the room ceases to exist.
I’ve done it again—kissed another Steelhawk I have no business wanting. And I’m starting to think I don’t want to stop.
I’m well and truly fucked.