Page 61 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“Peak form?”

Kane nodded. “He looked like he was ready to fuck any guy that walked in here. Hell, even any woman, which is saying something when it comes to Mason.”

I bit down on the tip of my tongue for a moment, feeling a flash of heat roll through me. “Sounds like him.”

“Sure does.”

“Could I get another shot?”

He gave me a glance. “Damn. You’re going all in tonight.”

“For the first time in weeks, I actually have a day off tomorrow. No practice, no game, no class. I can drink.”

“Cheers to that,” Kane said, topping off my shot glass.

I neatly downed the liquor, and this shot didn’t burn as bad as the other ones had. I let the conversation pause for a moment before I continued.

“So was he doing keg stands again last night or what?”

“Not this time. He kept talking about breaking his dumb sex-free pact, though. Not that I ever believed he was going make it through the whole summer. Most of the time he can’t make it a week.”

Not the time to get all sad, Sanocki.

Mason has every right to fuck who he wants.

“Did he go home with some hot farmer?”

Kane shrugged. “Don’t know. Wasn’t watching. This place was packed. He needs to quit bitching about it, though.”

If Mason was so desperate, he could have just textedme.

And the most selfish, possessive hockey player in the world award goes to… Jesse! Sanocki!

“He needs someone who can handle him,” I said.

Kane narrowed his eyes at me. “What about you? How’s school?

I slid out my phone and navigated to the screenshot of my exam scores. “I’d say it’s going well.”

“100 is pretty damn hard to beat,” Kane said. “What about the other, though? 84?”

“That’s still a B.”

“You used to get perfect scores on everything, though.”

I raised my eyebrows, suddenly having a distinct urge to punch my brother in the face. “Are you really just going to fixate on the fact that I didn’t gettwoperfect scores? I’m proud of these results. These are some of the more challenging courses I’ve taken.”

“It isn’t a bad score. It’s just not like you,” he said. His voice was soft, without any real judgment behind it.

But I was still pissed.

Kane was giving me his whole father-figure treatment, even though I was 21 and well past the age where he’d had any hand in raising me.

“Promise you, I am trying my best.” I didn’t bother hiding the anger from my voice.

“I know 84 is a good score. I’m just checking in on you. The asshole isn’t giving you any trouble still, is he?”

Kane exclusively referred to Elliot asthe assholethese days, and I definitely supported that.

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