Page 150 of Skate the Line

“He already got a point?”

Ellie nods and shoves popcorn into her mouth.

That’s two for tonight.

One for gifting my nana a tablet behind my back so that our video chats will work, and one for the Blue Devils.

Forty-Four

RHODES

It’s lights out,though Emory is still on his phone in the other bed. We played a hard game tonight. So hard that I’m positive my younger teammates, the single ones, even Kane, have chosen to stay in instead of going out.

We’re all tired. Emory from the blocks he had to make during overtime, and me from being one of three who had to participate in the shootout. The rest of the team is spent from their emotional turmoil of having to rely on three chosen players for the outcome.

Thankfully, it was worth it, and we ended up with the W.

My body aches from the long stints on the ice without a shift change, but I’m too wired to fall asleep.

I stare at my phone.

I shouldn’t text her.

I shouldn’t text her, because the reason I want to has nothing to do with checking in on Ellie and everything to do with toying with her some more.

It’s addicting and dangerous.

My fingers jolt with an incoming text.

I grin to myself when her name pops up.

Speak of the little devil herself.

I quickly open the text and see a picture of Ellie sleeping in my bed with a braid slung over her shoulder and the blankets pulled up to her chin.

Out of the corner of my eye, I eye Emory.

Most veteran players who aren’t on an entry-level contract get a room to themselves, but the franchise has had to adjust some funds around, and considering I’m team captain and not concerned with bringing some chick back to my room, I opted to volunteer as tribute—or whatever the fuck Malaki said when I stepped forward.

Making sure Emory isn’t somehow reading my texts from across the room, as if I’m doing something wrong by texting Sunny, I type a message back that is, in fact,wrong.

Me: Where’s a pic of the other girl in my bed?

Shit. What the fuck am I doing?

I can’t help myself.

Sunny brings out a side of me that hasn’t seen the light of day in years.

Her text comes in with a photo of her sticking her tongue out. I know it’s supposed to be a smart response to me asking for a picture, but I find it highly attractive. I’d like to grab that jaw of hers, pull her in close, and stickmytongue in her mouth.

I am so goddamn fucked.

Sunny: In all seriousness, we need to talk.

And here it comes:reality.

She’s going to tell me we can’t keep doing this. I can’t blame her. In fact, I should man up and be the one to put a stop to it.

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