Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
ADDISON
I push past the solid wall of muscle that is Roman Ashford—god, even angry, he’s devastating—while Jasper falls into step beside me.
Jesus, I just kissed Roman’s best friend.
No wonder he looks at me like I’m poison.
That’s a line you don’t cross, and I knew better.
Roman already hates me. It rolls off him in waves, and I’ve earned every bit of that hatred from him.
But losing him gutted me too, deep enough that I still feel it even now.
And yeah, I know kissing Zeke was probably the worst possible move if I ever wanted to fix what was broken between Roman and me, but there’s just something about Zeke that makes me forget every reason why I shouldn’t want him.
“Why do girls walk so fucking fast when they’re pissed?” Jasper’s teasing pulls me out of my spiral.
“I’m not pissed,” I mutter.
“You are,” he says, breezy as hell. “But it’s okay. I’m not offended that you’re lying to me.”
I can’t stop myself from glancing back over my shoulder, my eyes catching on Roman and Zeke trailing a few steps behind us. That kiss, as brief as it was, continues to play out in my head, and the truth is that I’ve wanted it for longer than I’d ever let myself say out loud.
My dad would have an actual heart attack if he ever found out.
His words from last season still echo in my ears: “Date who you want, you’re an adult, but stay the hell away from my boys. I don’t want them distracted.”
But he doesn’t see the way Zeke looks at me or how Roman burns beneath the surface, always protecting himself, his silence always saying more than his words ever could: Don’t come closer unless you mean to stay.
And I didn’t stay.
I walked away.
And Jasper… God, Jasper, he’s the grinning golden chaos who makes everything feel possible, even the things that shouldn’t be.
Thoughts of all three men linger somewhere deep inside me, hidden in the places good girls aren’t supposed to go. The kind of thoughts that make heat crawl up my neck and my pulse quicken with equal parts lust and shame because wanting one of them should be enough, but it’s not.
I fucked everything sideways when I started dating Roman a few years ago. When my dad found out, he came straight for me. He told me to end it, said Roman’s future hung in the balance, and listed a million reasons why his star player couldn’t be with me.
It was a conflict of interest.
Team dynamics.
He couldn’t play favorites if things went south between us.
I was hopelessly in love with Roman when I ripped us apart, and we haven’t managed a civil conversation since.
He built this wall between us, brick by fucking brick, because of what I did, and the worst part is that even though I expected these feelings to fade or at least turn into something manageable, they haven’t.
Some nights I still wake up remembering how his hands felt on my skin, how he’d whisper against my neck when he thought I was sleeping, confessing things he couldn’t say to me in daylight.
Now, he barely says my name. He calls me princess like it’s a joke, but I know it’s because it’s easier than remembering the way Addie used to fall from his lips when he was losing himself inside me.
Then there’s Jasper, who somehow makes everything feel lighter just by existing. He gets me. Hell, he gets everyone. But everything with him feels effortless. Those dark eyes of his don’t miss a thing, and that smile could talk me into anything.
Zeke is different. He’s like sunshine breaking through storm clouds—warm and steady and so kind it hurts. Black hair that always falls into his eyes, and those green orbs? Yeah, they could pull you under before you even realized you were drowning.
He’s beautiful, inside and out.
Okay, so I might be a little bit of a mess over all three of them. Like, full-blown good-girl-gone-hopelessly-feral.
The guys’ house isn’t far from Mikey’s place. I’ve only been here once before, when I dropped off some paperwork for my dad last semester.
Jasper pushes open the front door, and I step inside, my buzz from earlier fading fast, replaced by a nervous energy that makes my stomach flutter.
“We’ve got beer, wine, tequila, vodka…?” Jasper offers, already moving toward the kitchen.
“White wine?”
“Think we’ve only got red.” Jasper rummages through their collection of mostly empty bottles.
“Just give me whatever you guys are having.”
His wicked grin should’ve been my first warning. “Shots it is, angel.”
We drift from the kitchen into the living room, and suddenly the space feels smaller than it looks. Maybe it’s the way Zeke settles onto the couch beside me, his thigh brushing against mine, or how Roman lounges across from us like some brooding god of hockey.
Jasper returns with what looks like liquid death in shot glasses, handing one out to each of us.
“What are we toasting to?” Jasper asks.
“How about ‘We just won the fucking championship’?” Roman says with pride.
Jasper leans in toward him, fingers squeezing his knee. “To the future NHL stars in this room—may we always be this fucking spectacular.”
We all drink, and I nearly gag because, holy crap, this is strong.
“Jesus.” Zeke laughs, rescuing my glass before it slips out of my hands.
“That was… disgusting.”
“You want another?” Jasper smirks.
“Absolutely not,” I say, laughing, but he doesn’t look away. He holds me with that steady, too-intense gaze, and then drops the question I know he’s been dying to ask.
“Okay, so, can we talk about what happened between you and Zeke earlier?”
“Um, no.” The words shoot out of my mouth as I accidentally catch Roman’s eyes—a catastrophic mistake because he’s fucking beautiful.
“What? Why not?”
“Because drunken kisses don’t need a discussion… especially when—” I cut myself off, not wanting to acknowledge how Roman watching me kiss his best friend feels like some kind of betrayal, even now.
I’m the worst.
“Don’t stop on my account, princess. I’ve been getting my dick sucked for the past year, so you’re welcome to kiss whoever the hell you like.”
Yeah… that hit exactly the way he meant it to.
Fury ignites in my chest, spreading like wildfire and burning everything in its path. I stare him down, my body vibrating with rage.
“Yet they haven’t stuck around?” The words fall out before I can stop them, my voice colder than I feel, and cruel in a way that makes me want to bite my tongue until it bleeds. “Must be a you problem.”
I know I have no right to feel this way, and I’m a major fucking hypocrite, but the thought of him with other girls makes me feel physically sick. He was the last man I slept with, and the truth is, I’m not ready to give my body to anyone who isn’t sitting in this room right now.
“Wanna bet?” Roman fires back, and my stomach drops.
No way.
I’d know if he had a girlfriend.
“Jesus,” Jasper mutters, dragging a hand through his hair like we’re both exhausting him.
“Can we exist in the same fucking space for five minutes without you two going for blood? Besides, I’m more interested in the fact that I’m now the only person in this house who doesn’t know what it’s like to kiss you. ”
Is he playing with me? It feels like his usual bullshit, but the way he’s looking at me… There’s heat there.
“So I guess you either kiss me”—he grins, cocky as hell—“or let me watch you two go at it again. Or…”
“Don’t.” Roman’s voice cuts like steel, his eyes locked on Jasper. “I’m fucking serious, don’t. She won’t understand, and it’ll—” He catches himself, jaw clenching.
“Understand what?” I say, looking to Zeke, who’s watching Roman like he’s a bomb about to detonate.
“Nothing,” Roman snaps, but my eyes narrow at the blatant lie.
Before I can call him on it, Zeke rises from his chair and crouches in front of Roman, taking the beer from his grip.
“Hey, remember what I said.” Zeke’s hand slides around Roman’s neck, drawing their foreheads together.
They both close their eyes, and the tenderness of it catches me completely off guard. Jasper’s watching me like a hawk, gauging every reaction, like he already knows this is about to break me wide open in ways I never saw coming.
Roman’s face twists with something raw and agonized, like whatever he’s been burying is finally clawing its way out of him. His jaw clenches so tight I can see the muscle jump beneath his skin, and his eyes burn with the kind of feral need that sends a sharp ache through my chest.
I recognize that look.
He used to look at me that way.
Roman’s fighting himself, and I can feel the exact moment he loses. His hands shoot out, fingers wrapping around Zeke’s throat, and he pulls him closer, unable to hold himself back for another second.
No way. No fucking way. How—
Their mouths crash together, and fuck—I should look away, but I can’t. I can’t tear my eyes from the way Roman’s fingers dig into Zeke’s skin or the way Zeke’s thumb strokes along Roman’s jaw as if he’s the most precious thing in the world.
“You remember Roman’s outlet is touch, right?
” Jasper murmurs, just in time to stop me from spiraling.
His voice is low and calm, like he’s trying to talk me off a ledge without letting me know I’m even on one.
“I bet he always had his hands on you.” Memories flood back of Roman’s desperate touches, his face buried in my neck, fingers seeking bare skin any time life got too much.
“Right now, our boy isn’t thinking about anything except what he needs to survive whatever the hell is going on in his head. ”
“Our boy?” The words catch in my throat as Jasper slides closer on the couch. “He’s… You’re…”
“He’s the love of my life, along with the guy he’s about to bend over right here if we don’t distract them.”
“You’re gay?” I blurt, my eyes wide. “All of you?”
“You know we’re not, angel, and I know you remember exactly how Roman fucks. Did that ever feel like a man who was anywhere but right where he wanted to be?”
I can’t answer.
I can’t even form words.