Page 102 of Well That Happened

Caleb: *devil horn emoji* Evil woman. I have three more hours of lectures to sit through.

I smile and busy myself by packing for our trip to Chicago for the away game tomorrow. My phone buzzes again.

Caleb:What are you doing?

Caleb:Other than trying to kill me.

Me:I’m packing for the trip.

Caleb:Do you even need clothes on this trip?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Rilee

Two days later, it’s confirmed that yes, Idefinitelyneeded clothes on this trip. Chicago is freezing in mid-November. The hotel lobby is buzzing with hockey energy—loud voices, rowdy boy energy, rolling bags thumping across tile. Half the team’s already milling around the check-in desk, excited and restless in that pregame way that feels almost contagious.

We roll in behind them, dragging our own bags, and step in front of the lobby’s check-in area. Caleb has his arm looped around my waist, his chin resting on top of my head like I’m his personal anchor. I should probably be annoyed, but the truth? It feels good. Easy. Familiar.

Grayson’s behind me in line. His hands find my shoulders without a word, thumbs pressing into the tightest muscles like he’s been mapping my stress all week. He doesn’t say much, but the way he touches me says everything.

I should probably be flustered. I’m not.

The three of us are riding somewhere between road trip giddy and mildly sleep-deprived feral.

The fourth member of our group?

Hunter looks like he might commit a felony.

Specifically, against the poor hotel desk clerk.

“What do you mean,” he says slowly, voice tight, “the captain always gets a solo room.”

The clerk flinches. “We had to condense a few of the reservations. But your group still has a two-queen room on the fourth floor.”

“One room,” Hunter repeats.

“Yes, sir.”

Caleb lifts his chin from my head. “We’re all sharing?”

“Two beds,” the clerk offers. “One room. Just for tonight. We’ll have an extra rollaway by morning.”

Hunter’s jaw clenches so hard I swear I hear it pop.

Meanwhile, Caleb just shrugs. “Cozy.”

Grayson doesn’t say anything, but he’s still massaging slow, lazy circles into my shoulders like nothing in the world could bother him.

I glance between the guys. “I can sleep on the floor if it’s a problem.”

“No,” Caleb says instantly.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” Grayson agrees, hands tightening.

Hunter mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously likeThis is exactly what I was worried aboutand turns away, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“Hunter,” I start.

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