Page 8 of Shattered On Ice

“I don't want to know why Chad is talking about a dude’s cream and tube,” Campbell says with a resigned air, hopping into the boat and shouldering his way into the front with a surly expression.

“Hello to you, too, Campbell,” I manage pleasantly as he passes, grateful for the distraction. “Glad you made it.” I really am. He needs more friends, but his attitude rarely lends itself to making them. Besides, he was a great interruption of my panic attack just now and managed to put Chad’s inappropriate jokes to rest.

Campbell leans forward and offers me his fist to bump. “No annoying shadow today?” he asks, hopefully.

I laugh. “Ah, buddy. Don't worry, you’ll have your favorite person here shortly.”

“I hate that guy,” he mumbles, settling back heavily into his seat.

“Careful, you keep this hatred up, and we’re gonna start thinking you secretly like the guy,” I tease.

He glowers at me. “I like you less.”

I bark out a laugh and decide to leave him alone. There are too many grumps in hockey. I don't know why everyone takes themselves so seriously. It’s just a game that we get paid to play.

A yapping bark catches my attention as I scroll on my phone. I look up to see the adorable, smiling face of Rook’s dog, Indiana Bones, pulling him down the dock on her leash. And he’s not alone. Knight follows behind him.

My phone drops into my lap as my mind blanks. All rational thought leaves me, my ears ringing like I’ve been checked too hard into the boards.

Oh, shit. I didn’t realize he’d be here. The memory of my body against his for the briefest moment washes over me like a wave, sending a surge of lust directly to my dick. The immediate response says it would very much like to repeat that almost mistake. I casually lean forward, cutting off blood flow and picture my Mémère to stop myself from thinking of the most perfect lips I almost kissed, and the intoxicating mix of high-end cologne and budget beer that invaded my senses and got me high on him.

Even though Knight gave me his number, I’ve kept myself from using it. I knew it was a risk to even have it in my phone, but I couldn't bring myself to delete it. Now he’s here, and I’m gonna be trapped on a boat with him all fucking day. This is bad.

Tabarnak.

“Ahoy, mateys! Avast. Ye’s about to be boarded by Gray Paws, the pirate queen, and the Stephens crew,” Rook shouts as he swings his French Bulldog into the air by her lifejacket and dramatically climbs into the boat with her. “Tremble in fear, land lubbers!” He holds the dog out toward each of us as she wiggles, her tongue slapping the air, trying to lick us all.

“We have to spend all day with this stupid motherfucker,” Campbell groans, putting his head in his hands.

“We’re happy to have you aboard, Gray Paws,” Nico says, letting Indiana lick his face. “Glad y’all could join us. Good to see you again, Knight.”

My view of Knight is suddenly blocked by his twin, who is smiling widely, seemingly high on life.

“Westy! My bestie from another testy! Hold this stuffed sausage while I get settled, will ya?” Rook says, pulling me up for a half-hug, slapping me on the back, and depositing his squirming bulldog in my arms as I sit back down.

I smile as Indiana pants, her long tongue hanging out of her mouth. Rook moves and Knight is suddenly right there in front of me. His crotch is at eye level, and fuck, this is not the thing I need to be looking at right now.

Forgive me.

I put the dog on my lap to hide any evidence of what Knight’s proximity does to me. I’m punished immediately by Indiana stepping on my balls. I swallow a groan and try not to gag from the pain. I’ve had worse. The pain is good for clearing my head, anyway.

“Hi,” I choke out, trying not to sound pained or high-pitched, but knowing I’ve failed at both.

“Oooh, she stepped on a ball, didn’t she?” Knight asks, his face scrunched. “That happens to me at least once a week. It never gets easier. Want me to take her?” He holds out his hands with the suggestion.

I shake my head no. The damage is done. Might as well keep her there.

Knight squats down, his face level with mine, and quietly, so no one else can hear him over the raucous noise of the rest of the passengers, he says, “I could make it feel better for you.” His grin is pure evil.

I close my eyes tightly. “Not helping,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “Really don’t want to think about that when a ball has retreated inside my body.”

“I could find it for you.” He grins salaciously at me when my eyes pop open.

I glance around to make sure no one witnesses his flirting. “I’m not,” I start, keeping my voice low. “Out,” I finish in a nearly silent whisper. “I can’t—” I gesture at him with a flick of my chin, “—do this in front of these guys.”

Knight’s smile melts into neutral understanding. “Yeah, Westin, I know. It’s okay.” He pats my knee and stands, scooping Indiana into his arms and easily brushing past me to take the one remaining seat at the front of the boat with Ryder, Knox, and Campbell.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Nico bellows, cranking the throttle so the engine roars to life. “It’s hot as fuck, and I want to get into that lake before we’ve all roasted like marshmallows.” He looks over at me. “You roast marshmallows in Québec, right, Westy? They have those in Canada?”