Page 20 of Catch
“How long?” Dane asks.
“At least eight inches.”
“Are we still talking about hair?” Jace quips.
“Mine is sixteen,” Silas adds as he sits down in front of Felix. He removes the tie from his man bun. “I’m donating for sure, so special care please. Cut it, bag it, then buzz the rest.”
Meantime, I’m standing with the razor in my hand and Ethan all but vibrating in front of me.
Just do it.
I reach for him, and he stills. When I place the razor near his scalp, he bites his lower lip, and that twinge of remorse flares to life again.
“Hurry up, already,” he snarks.
“You asked for it.”
I finally start, but with each pass of the razor, with every clump of hair that falls away, my heart beats faster and faster, like I’m running rather than shaving. Ethan gets more and more tense, his body rigid, so unlike his usual personality. But hair or no hair, the man is annoyingly hot.
And I want this done and over with so I don’t have to touch him, or his hair, ever again.
Once the first pass is done, I go over it again to smooth things out. And wouldn’t you know, he looks damn good with a buzz cut. No, better than good, he looks mature, and all the attention is now on those deep brown eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and full fucking lips. I mentally kick myself for even noticing.
Maybe there was something else in that shot besides tequila…
When Ethan glances up at me, I can hardly take a breath. Gone is the fun, flirty frat boy, and in his place is someone I don’t recognize.
A guy who’s not to be taken lightly.
“Are you fast?” Ethan asks me.
The sudden question startles me.
“What?”
“Are you fast?” he adds, licking his lips. “I mean, on the water?”
“Of course we’re fast, that’s the point.”
“Not all of it.”
“No. Rowing crew is about skill, speed, and endurance.Pushing yourself to the limit and then some,” I admit. “It’s brutal on your body, but in the most beautiful way.”
Ethan’s gaze looks amused. Fuck me and my big mouth.
“Why do it, then?”
I don’t understand these sudden questions, and weirdly enough, nothing about this convo feels like we’re talking about sports. I want to run again. Run and never look back. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Why do you play hockey?” I ask him.
Ethan smiles slowly, like he’s about to unleash a secret.
“Because I have to. I get on that ice and… it’s hard to describe unless you’ve been there.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Something primal takes over. Ihaveto play, and I always play to win. Every time. It’s so much more than a game.”
I nod even though it pains me to think about the fact that we have something in common. Or anything in common.
This is way more than a game.
