Page 116 of Stick It
I shake my head. “She overdid it.”
Once I’m stripped down to my boxers, I wait until the last of the guys have headed out before I approach her. Ethan is changed but is clearly refusing to leave until Dylan does. Finn has just emerged from the showers, and Griffin, who has become Dylan’s personal shadow, has been sitting watching her from the second she stepped into the locker room.
“Come on, Little Menace,” I murmur, kneeling in front of her. “Let’s get you showered and dressed.”
“I can do it,” she mumbles, wrenching her eyes open. They’re dull with fatigue, the usual green hue and golden flecks dimmed from their usual flare.
She leans forward to start on her skates, but I swat her hands away, doingit myself. I ease her skates off her feet, setting them aside, before rubbing my thumbs into the arch of her foot.
“Mmm, so good,” she groans.
“There’s more of that once we get home,” I promise her. “Shower or no?”
She rubs at her eyes before stretching her arms over her head. “Shower. It’ll wake me up.”
I nod, helping her take off her protective gear until she’s left in just her sinfully tight shorts that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and make me instantly hard, and her equally revealing tank top. She has the attention of all four of us as she grabs her towel and shuffles into the showers.
Once he’s changed, Finn flops down onto the bench with a loud sigh, folding his arms across his chest and resting his head against the locker while he waits. Everything about his posture says he’s pissed off at having to wait, yet he doesn’t leave.
“We’ll make sure she makes it to class,” Ethan states curtly, eyes narrowed on Griffin.
“I know you will, ’cause I’ll be with you.” Griffin’s stance is equally confrontational as he squares off with Ethan from across the room.
Ethan’s teeth grind. “That’s really not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of looking after her.”
“Weare,” I correct.
“Pretty sure she’d have all your asses for making it sound like she can’t take care of herself,” Finn unhelpfully points out.
“Regardless, I’m staying,” Griffin states with finality. “Besides, I got her something.”
I sit up straighter. “You got her a present? Why?” Shit, is it her birthday or something?
He lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Because why not?”
What sort of non-answer is that?
My jaw tics, but instead of sitting here arguing with him, I snatch up my towel and head to the showers myself. Steam billows from a nearby stall, and I can hear the water running as I step into the one next door.
Throwing my towel over the door, I strip out of my boxers and flip on the water and step beneath the hot spray. It’s heaven on my overexerted muscles, instantly relaxing them and easing the tension.
I don’t stand under the stream for long, turning it off and grabbing my towel to wrap around my waist when I hear Dylan step out of the stall beside me.
“Feeling better?” My gaze inadvertently rakes over her towel-covered body. Even though it hides her delectable curves, it does nothing to ease the pull I constantly feel toward her. I felt it from the minute she stepped into our house that first day, with her head held high and defiance glinting in those hazel eyes of hers.
And it’s only gotten stronger at every turn when she has proved us wrong. When she has shown just how much of a Steelhawk she truly is. It’s in her blood.
“Much.” She gifts me one of her rare, genuine smiles.
Something in me slips the moment I see it—that soft curve of her lips, unguarded and real. It hits me square in the chest.
I close the space between us.
My hand slides over the fluffy fabric of her towel, squeezing her hip as I press my lips to hers.
It’s not rough. Not urgent. Just…something I’ve been wanting to do all morning. Her lips part, and my other hand finds the back of her head, holding her carefully—lightly—because I know she’s still sore, still recovering. She melts into me anyway, and fuck if I don’t feel something shift in my chest.
My fingers trail up her side and over the edge of her toweluntil I’m met with warm, damp skin. I seek out the tension I know is there, and when I find the tight spot just beneath her shoulder blade, I rub gently, kneading it with slow pressure. She groans against my mouth, and it shoots straight through me.
