Page 14 of North

Pulling back, he stares at me a long moment. “What is this?”

As if my answer has changed from the last time he asked.

I frown at him, unsure of what he really wants to know, but I recognize that slight feeling of panic welling inside me. Surely North knows this is what we already defined it as. “It’s fun, right?” I ask.

“Very fun,” he agrees with a smirk. “But is this just a hookup? A onetime-only thing?”

“We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” I tease.

“Secret affair?” he asks, pushing for clarification, and his expression is slightly guarded. “We hook up to get our rocks off?”

“Yes,” I say carefully, putting my hand against his neck where I give him a gentle squeeze. “I’m not looking for anything serious, so I think it’s best we just keep this between us.”

North doesn’t say anything and his emotions are shuttered tight on his face.

“Is that okay?” I press.

“Seeing as how Rafferty would probably rearrange my face if we flaunted this little no-strings relationship, I’m thinking secrecy is the way to go.”

Relief washes through me and I didn’t realize how much I want to continue seeing North until he just green-lighted my boundaries. “It’s our little secret then.”

CHAPTER 6

North

Jerry’s Bar isthe kind of place I didn’t know I needed until I walked through its doors the first time nearly four months ago with my teammates. It’s owned by Hendrix’s fiancée, Stevie, and named after her grandfather. It’s a local hole in the wall, populated by blue-collar workers, bikers and a few grizzled veterans. It’s not polished or pretentious like Mario’s but rather raw and gritty, tucked away on a quiet street in Pittsburgh. It’s the kind of bar where no one gives a damn who you are, which makes it a great place for us to hang out in a slight bubble of anonymity. Not that the customers here don’t know we’re professional hockey players. It’s just that they don’t care and sometimes it’s nice to get away from the expectations that come with fame.

The place is alive tonight, humming with post-victory energy following our defeat of the Montreal Wizards. Not everyone on the team came out, but I’m glad it’s my closest mates. We’ve started to become a bitfactioned by the addition of significant others to the mix—King and his girlfriend, Willa, who’s a doctor; Foster and his nanny turned girlfriend Mazzy, who is an amazing musician and singer; and Lilly, who I’m getting to know better, engaged to our first-line right-winger Boone.

Lilly’s little brother, Aiden, died last May after a lengthy illness and I can’t even imagine. I’m glad I wasn’t part of the team then, but Lilly is as sweet as they get.

Camden is with Danica, who interestingly enough used to be married to one of the Titans players who perished in the plane accident nearly two years ago. They’re widely regarded as the sweetest story on the team, given her second chance at love within a family that never abandoned her following her husband’s death.

And of course, it’s cool watching new love bloom between Rafferty and Tempe. It’s almost comical watching how he dotes on her. When she talks, he’s all in, one hundred percent devoted to the words that come out of her mouth.

Everyone is falling in love it seems, and Atlas and I are the only two single guys left in this little subgroup of Titans teammates.

And then… there’s Farren.

I haven’t seen her since she showed up on my doorstep two days ago. She slipped out of my bed early the next morning, leaving me with a light brush of her lipson mine. She went to spend the holiday with Rafferty and Tempe’s family, and I sat around by myself and stewed over the conundrum she presented.

On its face, it’s just sex.

Like, really fucking fantastic sex, and there’s an added element of actually knowing her outside of the bedroom, such as right now. She came with Rafferty and Tempe tonight, having gone to watch the game, and she’s currently talking to Mazzy and Willa while they sip beers at one of the high-tops. While I can certainly talk to her at any time, I’m not sure what I’d say.

Hi, Farren… Can’t stop thinking about the mind-blowing orgasms we gave each other the other night. Want to play a game of pool?

In ordinary circumstances, if we were just two people without any ties, it would be so easy to figure her out.

But it’s complicated. She’s Rafferty’s little sister, and we’re doing this thing behind his back. Not only do I have guilt over this deception, I also have this underlying current of dissatisfaction that I can’t be open with my feelings for her.

And the feelings are as convoluted as the situation itself. I like Farren. Her beauty and sexiness aside, she’s funny, adventurous, independent and incredibly smart. The other night at my house, yes, we had sex.

A lot of it.

But in between, we shared a meal together, playedcards and talked, and I got to know more about her. There was never a lull in the conversation and after our last round of mutual orgasms, we ended up talking until the wee hours of the morning because we’re both adept conversationalists.

I asked her to choose the most meaningful game of hockey she’d ever watched Rafferty play, assuming his entry into the professional league would top the list. She had a heartwarming memory of a game he played when they were little kids, showing just how long she’s been his biggest fan.

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