Page 26 of Shattered On Ice

Callum: Of course you’re thinking about it. You got your back cracked by the man and want to do it again. So, as much as you want it to be casual, there will always be that crazy attraction.

Callum: You just need to play it cool and let things happen naturally. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself and him. I would LOVE to hear about a risky hook-up while he’s there, but I also want you to do what's best for you. That might mean hanging back and not getting in the middle of things, since he’s technically there for your brother.

Callum: Eww. I hate that I sound like the voice of reason right now. Who am I?!

I stifle a laugh and feed Indiana a pepperoni as I read Callum’s messages. The universe really knew what it was doing when it threw me into his path. He’s exactly the kind of friend I needed. I type back my reply.

Knight: You're making sense, and I’m starting to question if you're really as dramatic as you make yourself out to be. I’ll keep a low profile and excuse myself if I can’t hold it together well enough.

Knight: Oh, I tried that ice cream place you suggested, What’s The Scoop, and it was so good! Thanks for knowing everything about Atlanta.

Callum: We’re talking about ice cream when we could be discussing dick size and girth, and how you were so spent you didn't even put your jock back on after, but okay, whatever.

I burst into laughter before I can stop myself, catching the attention of the guys on the couch across from me.

“You okay over there, Knight?” Rook asks, his brows raised like he’s expecting me to share with the group.

“Fine, just something funny I read,” I say quickly. My phone vibrates in my hand, capturing my attention once more as I look down at it.

“Sounds like a busy conversation. Your phone has been blowing up, and your fingers haven't stopped for a bit,” Nico adds, draping his elbow over the back of the couch to turn and observe me. He doesn't look suspicious, more like he wants to include me in their good-natured ribbing, but I can't be sure.

“Who are you talking to?” Rook asks, looking between Nico and me, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that I would have people to talk to outside of this room.

I blink at him, wishing twin telepathy were a real thing, and I could tell him to drop it with my mind. “Just a friend.”

“Your friend has you smiling,” Nico sing-songs, like this is something to tease about. “Where’d you meet him?”

Okay, now he’s prying. And how does he know I’m talking to a guy? It could be a new female friend, but it was a good guess. I sigh. “At Luscious, when we were all there together.”

“Whaaat? You didn't tell me you met someone at the club. I need all the details,” Rook insists, flopping onto his stomach over the couch arm and smiling widely.

Panic seizes me. What if Westin thinks we’re talking about him? We are, but he doesn't need to know that. I have to get this out of the way so they’ll move on. Sorry, Callum. You’re being fed to the wolves, and they're voracious.

“His name is Callum.”

Nico and Rook make ooohing noises, while Westin stays silent, staring at me intently.

“Is Callum someone you want to be more than a friend?” Rook asks, his smile widening.

My face burns. This is the last thing I want my brother grilling me on right now, especially in front of Westin.

“No. He’s just a friend who happens to be funny,” I explain, keeping my voice neutral.

Westin lets out a low growl that reaches my ears. I glance up and catch him studying me like he doesn't quite believe it. His mask has slipped ever so slightly. His brows are drawn together, jaw tight, possessiveness written across his features before he blinks and looks around to ensure Rook and Nico didn't clock his jealousy the way I did. His expression smooths out, slipping once more behind the All-Star flippancy and confidence.

My heart races and hope rises. He wants me all to himself. I don't want any of them to continue this questioning, especially after seeing that look. “Who’s winning the game?”

Rook groans as he looks back at the television like he doesn't have the score memorized. “San Francisco, which sucks. The game is basically over, and there’s not much Minnesota can do to come back from that lead.”

“It's getting boring, now. Do you still have that ping-pong table?” Nico asks. “Eating pizza and watching a game makes me want to play beer pong like I did when I was younger.”

“Bro, you're twenty-five. You are young,” Westin reminds him with a laugh. “I’m a year older than you.”

“I mean, younger, like high school and college, ya know? That was like, years ago,” Nico argues.

“Am I really the oldest here?” Rook asks, eyeing his friends like he can't believe it.

“You’re twenty-seven. It’s not like that’s old,” Westin reasons. He looks between Rook and me. “Which one of you is the older twin?”