53 - Haven
HAVEN
The next day was light practice. Loose ends. Finding things that needed to be fixed, and making sure everything was buttoned up and buckled down.
Offense. Defense. All of it was in perfect lockstep.
There was nothing left to do.
Nothing but win.
When we broke in the afternoon, I didn’t go back to the house right away. I took some time to myself. I ran some errands. Scored some food. Sat down with a really good coffee, then treated myself to another after that.
By the time I rolled into the driveway, it was well after dark. I climbed the steps, avoided the porch’s deathtrap floorboards, and stepped inside.
There was no noise from the kitchen. No shouting from the hallway. No Zack complaining about something that absolutely didn’t matter.
I walked toward the living room, letting the silence settle around me.
“Hello?” I called out.
No answer.
Weird.
I kicked off my shoes, stepped into the living room, and stopped cold.
They were all there.
Grayson. Ares. Sebastian.
Sitting on the couch, watching even more hockey footage. Of course they were.
None of them noticed me at first, which… never happened. They were too focused on the action. Too wrapped up with whatever was on the television screen.
And then I realized—
The thing on the screen was me.
Not now. Before.
College.
I was flying down the ice — full speed, cutting through defenders like they weren’t even there. One move, then another, then another. Stickhandling in tight space, slipping through traffic. Reading the play before it even developed.
I remembered this game.
Hat trick. Two assists.
I hadn’t thought about it in years.
“…what is this?” I asked softly.
All three of them turned. Sebastian grinned immediately.
“Ah,” he said. “There she is.”
On screen, I watched myself score on a breakaway. It looked so easy. Like the goalie wasn’t even there.
“Where in the world did you find this?”
Grayson stood up. Ignoring the question, he looked at me with admiration in his eyes.
“You were unreal, you know,” he murmured. “You had raw speed. Natural finesse.”
“I still have finesse,” I smiled demurely.
Ares stood up next, facing away from me. When he turned back, he was holding something.
He opened his fist and let it drop. I gasped as it dangled from his fingers.
My jersey.
My number.
I felt my stomach flip.
“How’d you get one of those—”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ares said. He held it out. “Put it on.”
I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want to.
Because suddenly… I did.
A lot.
Slowly, I took it from him. The fabric felt familiar. Lighter than I remembered it. Softer.
Like something from a different life.
I lifted it over my head—
“No, no, no,” Sebastian said quickly. “Not like that.”
I blinked at him.
“Not like what?” I asked. “You wanted me to wear the jersey.”
“Oh you’re wearing the jersey,” Ares said, moving forward.
He stepped closer. They all did.
“But that’s all you’re wearing.”
My pulse jumped. Hard.
I looked between them.
“You’re kidding.”
No one answered.
That was my answer.
A slow smile spread across my face.
“… they’re all out?” I asked, looking around.
“Movie,” Sebastian said. He nodded toward Grayson. “Captain’s orders.”
“Long one,” Ares added.
Grayson didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. I looked down at the jersey in my hands, then back up at them.
I didn’t answer. I just smiled.
“Turn around,” I said.
Ares laughed. Sebastian cracked his knuckles, like he was enjoying the show already.
Grayson just watched.
All of it.
“Fine,” I giggled. “You sure nobody else is here?”
“Just him,” Sebastian nodded downward, to where Sir-Cleans-a-Lot rested innocently on his cradle.
“That’s okay,” I smiled. “He can watch.”
“He can?’
“Oh yeah,” I teased. “He cleans the house. He doesn’t complain. And I know he can keep his mouth shut.” I chuckled again. “He can watch.”
“Nice.”
I stripped down quickly, heat already rising under my skin. Then I pulled the jersey over my head.
It fell lightly against my thighs. Barely.
I spread my arms outward.
“Ta-da.”
Silence fell over the room. It was charged with electricity.
Ares’s eyes crawled me up and down, before he let out a long, slow breath.
“… yeah,” he said. “That works.”
Sebastian bit his lip.
“Jesus.”
Grayson stepped closer; close enough that I felt it before he touched me. His fingers brushed the edge of the jersey. Slid just slightly underneath.
“You never hesitate,” Grayson breathed. “Even back then.” He nodded toward the television. “You already know where the play’s going before it happens.”
I shrugged it off, trying to play coy.
“That’s kind of the job.”
“No,” he said, pressing closer. “That’s instinct.”
A beat.
“The same instinct that walked into this house and didn’t run.”
“That was questionable judgment,” I said lightly.
“Yeah,” Sebastian smirked. “Lucky for us.”
My breath caught, as they all stepped in. I could feel their presence. Their heat. Their rising excitement, which mirrored my own.
“Tomorrow,” Ares murmured, “they’re going to try to take control of the game.” He shook his head. “They’re not getting it.”
Sebastian shook his head once. “Not a chance.”
“But tonight?”
Ares’s hand settled over my hip, pulling me into him as his mouth found mine. His kiss was hot, immediate, and unapologetic. The kind of kiss that made your knees buckle, and stole your breath completely away.
The hot part came immediately afterward. Because right in the middle of kissing me… Ares took me by the jaw, and turned my head toward Grayson.
Fuuuuuuck.
My lips slid from one man to the other. There was no hesitation, no pause. One minute I was kissing Ares, and half a second later Grayson’s hot tongue was sliding against mine. He held me steady, pulling me against his hard body like I belonged to him.
And in so many ways… I did.
I knew that now.
A hand came up, fingers brushing my jaw, tilting my face in another direction. Sebastian’s kisses were equally intense, but softer at the edges. I surged forward, into his hot breath, his hands sifting through my hair as he staked his claim, taking the part of me that was his.
And in that moment I realized something.
I belonged to all of them.
All of me.
There were no boundaries, nothing to fight over. I was all theirs — utterly and completely.
Mind.
Body.
Soul.
Hands slid down my thighs. Up my jersey. Over my breasts. A pair of warm, wet lips closed over my neck, just as my mouth was passed to whomever was next in line.
“H—How much time do we have again?” I whimpered, softly.
Pillows scattered. The floor became littered with them.
“Enough,” Grayson murmured, dragging his fingers over my bare ass.
Strong hands pulled me downward. Into heat, into pressure, into something already building.
“Never enough,” Sebastian disagreed, kissing my shoulder.
A hand slipped around my waist from behind. Fingers spreading.
Shifting downward….
“But we’ll make it count.”