Page 18 of Well That Happened

“You left it out. In theopen.”

“I live here too,” Caleb says, grinning. “We all have our… routines.”

“Get your routine off the counter before I light it on fire,” Hunter snaps.

Grayson appears behind Hunter, stretching, black tee clinging to his chest. He takes in the scene in silence, then looks at me.

“You okay?”

“I amhaunted.”

He glances at the fleshlight. “At least it’s clean.”

“Whyis that the part you’re defending?”

Grayson chuckles.

Caleb moves past me, unfazed, grabs the thing by its base like it’s a reusable water bottle, and tosses it into a towel.

“I’ll relocate it,” he says cheerfully. “Apologies to your morning routine, princess.”

Hunter groans and walks off muttering, “I hate this house.”

“This feels like an OnlyFans promo,” I mutter.

Grayson just nods toward the sink. “I’d disinfect that.”

Then he disappears down the hall, cool as ever.

I stand there for a second, alone with my thoughts. And my trauma.

Then I turn the faucet on, splash my face, and tell myself I can still recover the day.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Chapter Five

Hunter

I’m off by half a second.

Every drill, every play—we’re a fraction slow. Not enough to tank the whole practice, but enough that Coach is chewing through his whistle like it’s personal.

“Again!” he barks.

We skate it again.

My legs burn. My shoulders ache. The inside of my right hip twinges just enough to piss me off. It’s been bothering me since the last hit I took against Michigan Tech. Nothing major. Nothing I’d report. Just tight enough to throw off my shot, slow enough that I notice.

Coach notices, too.

I catch his glare as we circle back to the boards.

“Skate like youwantit, Maddox,” he calls. “Or maybe someone else wears the ‘C’ this weekend.”

That hits harder than it should.

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