“And Lisette said she’s been texting you about meeting some of her friends, but she’s not sitting you at the singles table anymore. She wants you to bring your new girlfriend to the wedding,” he says, and it’s clear this is a demand delivered straight from the bossiest of bossy cousins in the world.

  I’m not usually speechless but there’s a first for everything because…new girlfriend? My cousin decided I have a girlfriend because the Internet said so? “She’s not my girlfriend,” I say, but that sounds weak as it comes out of my mouth.

  I mean, of course she’s not my girlfriend. But denying that she is feels a little shitty too.

  Ledger curls the weight for another rep. “So, you take out a hot VIP guest one night and the next night you play with her dog, and you’re not seeing her? What are you doing? Moonlighting as a dog walker, Weston?”

  “Pucks and Pups is your new side hustle?” Andrei asks as he moves to a mat on the floor to stretch his hamstrings.

  “That’s a good name,” I say, dodging the girlfriend issue.

  Erik clears his throat. “Lisette said she wants to meet her since she’s been trying to set you up forever, and she can’t believe you did it on your own.”

  Jesus. “What am I? Anathema to the ladies?” I ask, and oh, shit, that’s a Ryker word. A Trina word. Those nerds are rubbing off on me.

  “My fiancée is sending me text after text. I gotta tell her something,” Erik says, a little demanding, a little desperate. I hardly ever hear him that way.

  Ah hell, I have to help a teammate out.

  I hit end on the workout. “Gimme a second,” I say. I can’t rope Trina into this without her permission, and I definitely don’t want to get roped into another Lisette setup.

  I head out into the hall, still a little stunned at the situation stirred up by a photo. I take a deep breath then I hit dial, and as soon as she answers, I hear mild concern in her voice. “What’s up? Everything okay with Nacho?”

  “He’s perfect,” I say, quickly reassuring her. “I’m at training now, but before I left, he said he needed to take an afternoon nap to get ready for his date with a throw pillow tonight.”

  “Oh, good. Though I thought it was a carpet he was seeing.”

  “He’s double teaming, evidently. First the pillow, then the carpet.” I hesitate then dive in. “Anyway, I need your help with something,” I say, wincing. I prefer to be the one helping than the one asking.

  “Sure,” she replies easily. “What is it?”

  I scratch my jaw. “My cousin is getting married to my teammate, the goalie. This Sunday. And since you came to the game, and since my cousin saw some pic of us at the dog park—”

  “There’s a pic of us from the dog park on Saturday night? Who took it?” She doesn’t sound alarmed yet. Just concerned, understandably so.

  “Just some random person walking by. It’s an innocent shot, but you know how the Internet is. They’re sleuths, and it didn’t take long to figure out that you were the VIP guest. And now, my cousin wants to know if you’re my plus one,” I say sheepishly.

  Trina pauses for a moment before responding. “Is this a real date or a fake date?”

  That is an excellent question. And I don’t entirely know the answer. But I need an answer badly, so I finesse the situation with an, “Uh, both? Ryker is bringing his sister Ivy, so it won’t just be us two.”

  “Does Ryker know?” she asks.

  Am I supposed to ask Ryker’s permission? What the hell are the ground rules for this? We didn’t map out this little twist in our situationship planning convo because of course we didn’t—I didn’t see it coming. But my top priority is reassuring Trina. “I’ll tell him later. He’ll be cool,” I say, then I explain the situation a little more to her, asking if she’d mind being my plus one for Erik’s wedding so that Lisette won’t bug me about setting me up on more dates. “I really don’t want to be set up. I just want to focus on hockey.”

  That’s my one and only goal. I made my dad a promise, and you don’t renege on dying promises. You treat them solemnly. I’ve had a great run in the NHL so far, but it could all end any day. I’ve seen other careers cut short by injury. Or just by a player losing his edge. I won’t lose my edge—not to romance, not to dating, not to anything.

  “Hockey comes first,” she says, knowing me well on this count already, then she laughs softly on the other end of the line before asking, “Can one of the fake date ground rules be I get a dance with each of you though?”

  Damn, she really just goes with the flow of life. If hockey is a vibe, Trina sure is one too. Maybe Ryker will be as chill as she is. There’s nothing to be pissed about anyway. She’s just my plus one. “That can be arranged.”

  “Well, she better not set you up for the next week. One of the unspoken ground rules is no one else gets to have you or Ryker.”

  Her possessive streak is ridiculously hot. So hot I better not get caught up in it while I’m at work.

  The arena is beautifully loud with the roar of the fans at game time. Powered by the noise of the hometown crowd, I step out onto the slick surface, ready for anything. The Los Angeles Timberwolves have been giving us a tough time this season. They’re a fast team, playing aggressively and taking advantage of any weaknesses. That means I have to stay in the zone. Despite my earlier distraction, adrenaline rushes through me as I take my position at center for the face-off.

  The ref drops the puck and I grab it right away, then pass it quickly to Ledger who’s waiting behind me. He tears off toward the other end with two of their guys chasing him. He passes around one defender then another, finally sending it up to Andrei who shoots it toward their goal.

  But their goalie is faster.

  That’s how the game goes early on, and only when we skate off the ice at the end of the first period do I wonder if Trina is watching me.

  I doubt it, but I sure hope she is.

  Wanting that is a whole new feeling—one I dislike and like at the same damn time.

  23

  TOYS, TOYS, TOYS

  Trina

  “Where did you get this pound cake?” Cassie asks through a forkful of spongy dessert, which she’s eating before dinner. “It’s amazing.”

  “The Poundcake Factory,” I say with a straight face. We’re at Oak and Vine, our parents’ favorite restaurant in the city, a cute little café in Hayes Valley.

  “Oh, right near here, you said?” Cassie asks, like a dog with a bone, or perhaps a pillow.

  “Cassie, is the baby still moving all the time?” I ask, wanting to shift gears far away from my imaginary dessert shop.

  Cassie sets down the fork. “Yes, he or she does somersaults,” she says, proudly rubbing her belly.

  Mom turns to me, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Trina, don’t you want to experience that someday?”

  My father coughs into his hand, perhaps a suggestion for her to stop pressuring me, but it’s hardly a firm warning since she waves a hand, dismissing him. “They’re such wonderful things. Motherhood, pregnancy, family…I want you to have all that before it’s too late.”

  “Yes, at twenty-five my clock is ticking,” I say dryly, praying this dinner flashes by in a wink.

  “Let’s solve Trina’s housing situation first, Mom,” Cassie says with a laugh that’s definitely at my expense.

  “I have solved it,” I snap, annoyed with her. “I have a place I’m moving into next week.”

  “And until then you’re living with some guy you hardly know,” Cassie adds, like she wants to get me in trouble. I clench my jaw. I didn’t need Mom and Dad knowing about my unconventional living arrangements.

  “Oh! Is it serious?” Mom asks, rustling around in her purse for something, then grabbing her phone. “Is it the guy in the pic that was with you and Nacho?”

  My mom stalks me online? I better make sure I don’t accidentally make out with both Ryker and Chase at the wedding. Though, can you accidentally make out with someone? No, make-outs are definitely intentional. I’ll just have to keep my frisky mittens to myself at the wedding on Sunday.

  “Does he treat you well?” Dad puts in before I can answer my mom.

  Mom’s eyes twinkle with, presumably, baby rattles and pacifiers. “When can we meet him, Trina?”

  Never.

  Cassie nods to the TV in the corner of the bar. “Right now. Well, virtually. He’s on TV.”

  Who needs a voice when you have a big sister?

  “Ooh, an actor?” Mom asks.

  “Sweetheart, I think he plays sports,” my dad says, nodding to the hockey game on the screen, and this dinner is worse than Nacho humping a pillow in front of my two guys.

  A million times worse, because my parents have stamina that a three-legged Min Pin does not possess.

  Weirdly, I’m dying to watch the TV, but I also want time to speed by, so I meet my sister’s gaze and fall on the sword. “Tell me more about how big the baby is.”

  That earns me a small respite, but at the end of the meal, the conversation comes back to me.

  “So, are you seeing this guy a lot? Outside of his home, I mean?” Mom asks, enthused.

  One dog park visit and we’re a thing? Well, maybe it’ll get them off my back for a couple days. “I’m going to a wedding with him this weekend.”

  “Oh, how lovely,” Mom says.

  It’ll be lovely, too, when he fucks me senseless with his best friend very, very soon.

  When I finally escape the we not-so-secretly hope you’ll follow in Cassie’s footsteps dinner, I head to Chase’s home. After I walk Nacho, I find myself drawn to the TV in the living room. Maybe I can catch the end of their games.

  Such a weird thought for a sports hater like me. And yet, I’ve been antsy since last night to check out the action on the ice. But before I turn the TV on, I tilt my head, studying a pile of things on the living room table.

  There’s a new cuddler cup.

  And a stuffed monkey toy for a dog.

  As I peer closer, I stifle a laugh. In the middle of the dog bed is a hot pink vibrator promising “fantastic booty stimulation.”

  I pick up the little thing, turning it around with avid curiosity. I’ve never let anyone in through the backdoor, but I can’t stop thinking about how it might feel to be overwhelmed by these two men at once. To feel them both inside me at the same time. I love when they crowd me, when they press their big, strong bodies against me.

  It’s a heady thought, taking both at the same time, but double penetration isn’t number four. I’ll need to work my way up to that kind of kink.

  I’m about to put the vibrator back down when I spot a pastel-yellow card in the cuddler cup too. I flip it open.

  Toys for both of you.

  Your roomies

  My heart glows. I swear it shines in my chest. Chase said they got me the butterfly together the other day, and I try to picture the scene. Did they shop for me online? Did they do more shopping today? I doubt they went to a sex shop together in person, but did they go to a dog toy shop for my favorite critter?

  With a smile I can’t erase, and a blooming, giddy feeling in my chest, I flop down on the couch, holding the card. They’re so good to me, and I’m determined to understand them more. To connect with them.

  With my dog at my side, I flip back and forth on the TV between the Avengers game and the Sea Dogs game, rooting for both teams and both men.

  Leaning close to the screen, I try to follow the action as Chase zips around the ice. He’s a blur of speed and agility as he maneuvers through the other players, weaving in and out, dodging opponents and passing to his teammates.

  Then, in a blink he jumps off the ice. Shifts, the guys told me the other night, and I don’t entirely get why or how, but I’ll figure it out. Soon, he’s jumping back over the boards, and he’s on the ice again.

  The tension in me ratchets up as I watch. When he makes a shot that misses by mere inches, my heart aches for him.

  When I switch to Ryker’s game, I shout “yes” a mere minute later as he blocks a shot on goal. I can almost feel his intensity through the screen. His ferocity as he skates. One lesson doesn’t make me an expert, but I can read people, and it sure seems like he’s frustrating the hell out of his opponent.

  As I watch, I feel like I understand both of them more deeply than before. Hockey isn’t just a game for them. For Chase, it’s his passion, his drive, and a way to fulfill a promise. For Ryker, I suspect it’s part of his whole protector side. It’s how he takes care of his mom and sisters since his father didn’t.

  It’s not just a silly game with sticks and stuff. Hockey is to them what books are to me—part of my soul.

  But the Sea Dogs lose while the Avengers win. Will Chase beat himself up again? Or will he need to fuck out the loss, like he did on Monday morning? I squirm a little at the thought of an anger bang. And on that note, a shower is always a good idea, so I take a quick one, and I’ve just pulled on a tank top and sleep shorts when a yawn pummels me.

  Well, it is after ten.

  That’s prime reading hour, so I grab my little guy and slide into bed, then open my Kindle. I never finished the Hazel Valentine—nightly sex is putting a serious crimp in my reading style. I devour more of the tale, till my eyes flutter, and my thoughts scatter to bookstore meet-ups, and tacos, and toys, and wedding dates this weekend. They blur together for a long time until in the distance, I hear the faint sound of a door unlocking.

  24

  A RULE FOR A RULE

  Ryker

  Once the door’s unlocked, I push it open. It smacks hard against the wall.

  That feels satisfying. Not quite as satisfying as slamming an opponent into the boards, but this’ll do for now since earlier today I found out that Chase has zero problem with public affection. Zero desire to ask me about it either.

  I don’t even give a fuck if he’s in a funk about his team’s loss. Too bad.

  “Dude, don’t take it out on my wall,” Chase chides. He’s right behind me since he was waiting in the garage when I arrived and parked my electric car right next to his.

  Waiting to tell me he’s now dating Trina. Or fake dating. Or what-the-fuck-ever it is.

  How convenient.

  I make a show of rubbing my fist against the wall, like I’m removing the nonexistent scratch. “All good.”

  “Dude, seriously.” He stares at me like what gives. “Why are you being such a dick?”

  But I’m not buying the Ryker’s a little bitch line that he’s selling. Nope. We had a deal. We had ground rules. They did not include deciding on his own that she’s his girl. And she didn’t even think about me either.

  I point to my chest. “Me? I’m being a dick?”

  He shuts the door quietly, then tips his forehead to the hall. “Lower your fucking voice.”

  This is rich. He’s playing the Trina is sleeping card. “Want to take it outside?” I ask, puffing up my chest. We’re not small guys, but I’m bigger, and I’m not afraid to use my size right now.

  Or ever for that matter.

  He holds up his forefinger. “It’s one wedding date,” he says defensively. “Oh, and she wants a dance with each of us. She asked about you, man. If you were cool with it too,” he adds, and that’s not helping. That’s not fucking helping at all to know she was thinking of me. It makes me like her even more, and this is going to end badly for me. It just is. “So, I ask again, why is it such a big deal?”

  “Gee. That’s a good question.” I scratch my head, like I’m lost in thought. “Maybe because, oh, I don’t know, we didn’t talk about it.”

  “And I said why in the garage. It all came up so quickly, and I had to make a decision.”

  My chest is a vise, and I can’t stand this too-tight feeling, like something is strangling me. I can’t stand feeling, period. I just wanted to enjoy the victory tonight. To spread Trina out on the bed and take her apart. To work through the sexiest list ever.

  Four nights, and I already like her. This is so fucked up. What seemed like fun Friday night—hell, even the next few evenings and mornings—is a mess now. And the mess is inside me.

  I stalk into the kitchen, hunting around for a scotch or something, but when I yank open the cupboard this feels all wrong. The glasses are his glasses; the bourbon is his liquor. Nothing is mine. I slam the door shut.

  Chase follows me, then lifts his hands almost in surrender, his voice lowering too. “Look, man, someone took a pic of us. Someone else—someone I don’t know—made a decision we were dating. My teammates took that and ran with it. You know how Erik is. He’s relentless. So is Lisette.”

  Yeah, but I didn’t kiss Trina in public today. Because of ground rules the three of us set up. And, more so, the ones we didn’t set up. That’s what pisses me off. I took them into consideration, but you didn’t.

  I press my lips together so I don’t let that awful truth out. I’d be the schmuck in this temporary threesome.

  Pass.

  “Yeah, I know,” I say, just to say something. So I don’t seem like I’m silently stewing in my own…self-loathing.

  But goddammit. I could have kissed her on the street. And then where would that have left him? We’d be two dudes messing around with the same girl, only this time everyone would know. There is no winning in this situation. Someone will always be the third wheel. I huff out a breath. “Look, this whole thing is just a bad idea,” I say.

  Because, evidently, I can’t handle my own heart. It’s me. I’m the problem.

  But Chase isn’t done. He’s pacing, loosening his tie, jerking at the knot. “No. It’s not a bad idea. It’s just…I made assumptions and then I asked her. I should have checked with you too, but I didn’t want to draw any more attention to her, or us, or whatever the hell this is,” he says, gesturing wildly to the hall, then the kitchen. “Like, hey, let me ask Ryker too because…that girl? That fantastic girl? Yeah, we’re both spending the week with her. At my house. No big deal, right?”