Page 130 of Frozen Hearts
Holy shit! My vagina is officially pitching a tent in this bed and calling it home, since I most definitely want to wake up to that sight every morning.
All that hockey training hasdefinitelypaid off because he is cut from fucking stone. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him. His entire body is lean muscle that has me wanting to trace each individual one with my tongue.
I’m so absorbed in my fantasy that I don’t notice that he has turned to look at me until he’s waving his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Riley.”
“Huh?” I blink and find him smirking cockily.
“I asked what you wanted for breakfast, except now I think I know.”
Wholly embarrassed, I grab the pillow from under my head and chuck it at him. “Shut up, asshole!”
He effortlessly grabs it, and before he can throw it back at me, I dart out of bed.
“Can I borrow a T-shirt and some sweats?”
“You mean you aren’t enjoying walking around with just a T-shirt on?” he teases.
I snort. “Maybe in my own apartment, but not here.”
He nods knowingly and points to the dresser. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” I root around in his drawers until I find a fresh shirt and a pair of sweats that look like they won’t drown me. I still have to roll the waistband five times to stop them from dragging on the floor. I also grab a pair of thick socks, which I imagine are meant to go inside his skates, and at the last minute, I lift a hoodie and pull it on to complete my ridiculous ensemble.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Logan asks, failing to hide his laugh behind his hand when he takes me in. “You’ve gone from wearing practically nothing to half my wardrobe.”
“You are aware that it’s December, aren’t you? My toes get cold on the hard floors.” I hold out a sock-covered foot and wiggle my toes to emphasize my point. “Admittedly, the hoodie is just because it’s cozy. Besides, you told me to help myself, so I did.”
He holds up his hands, palms forward. “You don’t need to justify your clothing choices to me. My clothes are your clothes.”
“Or…you could let me go home and I could wearmyclothes.”
“Nice try, Shortcake. Grayson would actually have my balls if I let you do that. Besides, aren’t you having fun staying with us?”
I arch a brow at him, wondering if he’s taken a puck too many to the head. “You and I clearly have very different definitions of fun.”
He shrugs, unbothered before ushering me out of the room for breakfast.
* * *
“You’re going to behave yourself, right?” Logan asks for the hundredth time that afternoon.
“Yes.” I sigh in exasperation. “Do I need to point out again that I’m not the one who did the strangling?”
He throws me a blatantdon’t be dramaticlook while stuffing the last of his gear in his bag. Grayson and Royce have been MIA all day. However, Grayson came back an hour ago and holed himself up in his room. The problem is, Logan agreed to a friendly game with some of his teammates, so he has to leave the two of us alone… and we all know how that went last time.
Lips pursed, he grumbles, “I wish Royce was here, at least.”
“Where is he anyway?” A guilty look flashes across his face that has me asking, “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” he responds too quickly before confessing, “I said a few things to him yesterday. Pissed him off.”
“About me.”
His warm eyes meet mine. “Yes.”
I sigh, my shoulder’s dropping. “I don’t want any of you to fight over me.”
“It wasn’t… He was being an ass.”
