Page 102 of Sin Bin Daddies
With the season in full swing, things should be hectic, but somehow, we make it work. I split my time between them—dog walks with Asher, snorkeling with Ford, late-night movies with Leo.
Ford is the wild one. The adventurer. He takes me out on the water, hands me a snorkel mask, and grins. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get wet.”
I roll my eyes, but I go. We dive, explore reefs, let the current push us. When we surface, he grins at me, water dripping from his hair, and I know exactly what’s coming next.
It always starts with his hands on my waist. Then his mouth. Then I’m bent over the front of the boat, gasping his name as the Miami sun beats down on my bare skin.
Asher is different.
Asher is steady. Quiet in a way that makes me feel safe.
One night, we get ice cream. I make the mistake of ordering chocolate.
“Messy,” he murmurs, thumb swiping over the corner of my lips. He licks it clean, eyes flicking to mine, and my breath catches. “Want some help with the rest?”
And then we’re in his car, the ice cream long forgotten, his mouth on mine, his hands in my pants, teasing, stroking, making me come before we even make it to his apartment.
Leo is the one who grounds me.
We do normal things. Watch old movies. Go out to dinner. Sometimes, he just holds me, runs his fingers through my hair, reminds me why I fell for him in the first place.
But when the lights go out, he’s anything but gentle.
Hockey is everything to Leo.
I see it in the way he watches film, the way he reads the game like a chessboard. The team is good, but under him? They’re lethal.
After practice, he breaks everything down, goes over plays, makes adjustments. And every single one works.
“Your defense needs to tighten up,” he tells one of the guys after a morning skate. “You’re giving them too much space. Close the gap. Force the play.”
The guy nods, and I watch as Leo’s eyes flick over the team, sharp, assessing. He doesn’t miss anything.
That night, they shut out the Seattle Reapers 3-0.
I don’t know how long this will last, this thing between the four of us. But as long as they’re winning, as long as we’re together, I don’t care.
And the way they take me apart after every game?
Yeah. I never want it to end.
The game is over, and the Icemen are still on fire. Another win, another night of celebration. The energy in the arena is electric, and I’m still buzzing from the high of it when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Henry.
I haven’t seen my brother in over a month, which is insane because we used to talk all the time. Between games, sex, and whatever the hell this thing is with Leo, Ford, and Asher, time has been slipping away.
I swipe to answer. “Hey, stranger.”
“Madeline!” Henry’s voice is warm, full of that familiar older-brother authority, but there’s a teasing edge. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“We’re back, baby! Logan and I just landed this morning.”
I grin, pressing a hand to my chest. “You’re in Miami?”
“Yep! And—” There’s a shuffling noise, then Logan’s voice comes through, equally excited. “We saw you tonight! You are the cutest damn mascot. A natural performer.”
