Page 91 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“I just call things as I see them.”

“And?”

“And you two have been looking at each other like you want to rip each other’s clothes off since the second you walked in.”

“Hey. Just because we’re…enjoyingeach other’s company doesn’t mean everyone has to know about it yet,” I said, giving Max a look and then nodding my head over toward Kane.

“Oh,” Max said, as it dawned on him. “Oh, fuck. Kane’s going to murder you, Mason.”

“I know. I’m a dead man,” Mason said.

He looked so adorably nervous that I wished I could lean over and cover him in kisses right then.

He was bringing out that romantic streak in me again, the one I hadn’t even known existed. If you’d asked me a few months ago what I wanted in a man, I’d have told you that a good hard fuck was all the romance I needed… and I still loved a good hard fuck, but Mason made me feel like the little heart-eyes emoji every ten seconds, too.

I glanced back at Kane, making sure he was still looking the other way. I reached out into the open front of Mason’s flannel to the shirt underneath, and I rubbed the small of his back. The feeling of warmth beneath his shirt was like its own little drug.

I pulled my hand away and took a deep breath, trying to assess the way forward like it was a complicated play in hockey.

“Kane would not murder you,” I said softly. “But we need to give it some time. Maybe get him used to the idea that we’re friends first, you know?”

“Is that what friends do, these days?” Max teased. “Look at each other like they want to suck face, ream each other’s asses, and then ride off together into the sunset?”

Mason looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground.

Adorable, again, but I was starting to feel bad for the poor man.

“Max, there’s a group of girls over there who have been waiting to get served for a minute now,” I said. “Kane’s going to reamyourass if you don’t go do your job.”

“Oh God, you’re right,” Max said, turning and walking toward the women. “Welcome in! What can I get started for you?”

“I know you want to get up and run out of this bar right now,” I told Mason, “but that’s not what we’re going to do. Okay?”

“That is exactly what I want to do. This drink is helping, though.”

I wanted to kiss him so badly. Truthfully I also wanted to drive right back to his house and spend the rest of the evening in bed with him, but I wasn’t going to let another repeat of last time happen.

I didn’t want a secret life with Mason.

I wanted us to be able to dothis. To go anywhere with each other, to raise a middle finger to anyone who tried to tell us we shouldn’t be around each other.

But the moment Kane walked back over and stepped behind the bar, I found myself sitting up a little straighter, too, trying to put on an innocent little act for him.

“Hey, J,” Kane said, reaching out for a fist bump. “Hot Mess, no keg stands or table stands or whatever the hell they are tonight. Just got the tables resealed and I don’t need you slipping and falling on your ass.”

“No keg stands planned for tonight, don’t worry,” Mason said.

“Game went well yesterday?” Kane asked me, loading pint glasses into a tray to be cleaned off.

I groaned. “The game went well, but I almost got in a fight.”

“Wait, you didn’t mention that,” Mason said gently.

“Jesse never talks about fights he has on the ice,” Kane explained. “Don’t be surprised.”

Well, I’d tell Mason anything, though.

In fact, the only person I’d wanted to talk to after yesterday’s gamewasMason. It was part of what pushed me to finally go see him today.

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