Chapter 1

Mo

I hit my alarm before it goes off.

Moving slowly, dark hair slides from my chest as I slip away from the woman lying next to me. She doesn't stir as I grab my smart watch and cellphone from the nightstand before silently creeping toward my walk-in closet. Gently closing the door, I quickly change and grab my gym bag from one of the many racks lining the spacious closet.

Perfume lingers in my bedroom as I exit, the woman's sleeping form undisturbed and sprawled across my California king bed. I wouldn't have thought a woman that small could take up that much space, but Stephanie had proven me wrong multiple times last night.

God, I hate cuddlers.

I snag a protein bar from a bowl on my kitchen counter before leaving my apartment and taking the elevator down to the gym on the first floor. I chose this location specifically because of the fully equipped weight room conveniently located within the apartment building.

When I enter, there is only one other person lingering around the weight room, an attractive woman I recognize from other morning sessions. The 5AM regulars are few and far between, so we tend to see a lot of each other. The redhead gives me a nod of recognition before returning her attention to the squat rack.

I give her ass an appreciative glance as I walk by, the thin material of her shorts doing nothing to hide the sweat stain forming between her cheeks. If we didn't live in the same building, I would consider making a move.

Stopping at the pull-up bar, I drop my bag and grab my gym log to check how much weight to use today. There's no point in hitting the gym if you plan on lifting the same weight as last time. As my father would say, the only way to change yourself is to to challenge yourself.

So, either start the challenge or get the hell out of the gym.

Two hours later, the whirl of my blender finally awakens the sleeping beauty.

"I was wondering where you had disappeared to." A small body presses against my back as I carefully pour my protein shake into a to-go mug.

"I'm surprised you noticed I was gone."

I'm only half-focused on the conversation, my mind already running through the tasks I need to complete today.

"Mm, I was hoping for another round this morning." Stephanie runs her hands along my chest, clearly hoping to trigger some sort of a reaction.

"Afraid I'm on a tight schedule today. Maybe next time."

There won't be a next time. Her BJ skills were adequate but not worth the bed-hogging.

She pouts, "Will you at least stay for breakfast?"

"No. I need to shower and then head to the office."

Her face brightens, "Sounds like an invitation."

"It's not."

The teasing smile falls from Stephanie's face and an annoyed line pinches her brows together, "So, that's it then? I should just pack up and leave?"

I reach around her and grab my drink.

"Your Uber is already on the way. You have ten minutes to get dressed."

I take a sip of my shake to hide the irritation on my face. I thought Stephanie understood the rules when she came over last night.

She huffs, "God, you really are a dick."

"You didn't have any complaints last night."

This is the part I hate. You set up a mutually beneficial arrangement, a one-time sexual transaction, and suddenly you're the bad guy for sticking to the original plan.

"Yeah, well, I was faking it."

I knew Stephanie was on the younger side, but I didn't expect her to be this immature. Her phone number is getting blocked the second she walks out my front door.

"Is that right?" I lean in, closing the distance between us. She licks her lips, her eyes dropping to my mouth.

As if I would want to kiss a child.

"If I remember correctly, you screamed my name no less than five times last night. Which happens to be the same number of orgasms I gave you." Her face flushes but I continue before she can respond, "I"m sure the DNA you left on my bed could attest to that fact. So, unless you are willing to be sued for slander, I suggest you make yourself presentable and leave this apartment before I get out of the shower."

Anger flashes in her eyes, but she keeps her mouth shut.

I force my lips into a smile, "Last night was fun, but that's all it was. Feel free to take a protein bar on your way out."

Turning on my heel, I walk from the kitchen without giving her a second glance.

Nico

I"ve almost made it out the door when he wakes up.

"Going somewhere?" My steps halt and I snatch my hand away from the door handle.

Damn it. Freedom had been so close.

"I was just going to get breakfast." I wince as the lie slips out of my mouth.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Dhillon sit up in bed, the sheets tumbling down his naked waist. I fight back a shudder when my eyes drop to the dark mass of hair covering every inch of his chest. Drunk me must have wanted an ape to play with.

"You were taking your backpack to get breakfast?"

I nod, pasting a bright smile on my face, "Better to be prepared than not prepared."

"Uh-huh." Dhillon studies me for a moment, his Mediterranean complexion almost making up for the lack of manscaping. The thick hair was not just on his chest, let me tell you.

"Give me two minutes to get dressed and I'll join you."

"I don't mind going by myself." I inch closer to the door, hoping I can make a break for it before the gorilla puts some pants on.

"I have a feeling I won't ever see you again if I let you go by yourself." Dhillon grins at me, and I curse my drunken self for choosing a smart one.

"You got me. I don't like to overstay my welcome."

He goes to swing his legs out of bed, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

"Look, I had a really great time last night, but I don't see this going anywhere." Honestly, I can barely see anything from all the hair assaulting my vision.

He frowns, "I thought we were going to get to know each other."

God, I hate this part. You have a drunken, unmemorable one-night stand, and suddenly you're the bad guy for hightailing it out.

"We got to know each other multiple times last night."

"So, that's it then? You're just going to leave?"

I do my best to look disappointed, "It was great, Dhillon. But now I have to go."

Hiking up my backpack, I yank the door open.

"Nico, wait!"

Despite my better judgement, I pause to look back at my drunken hookup.

"My name is Devon."

Taking that as my cue, I bolt out the door.

"How many times do I have to tell you I can't be trusted to make good decisions when I'm drunk?"

I give my best friend the evil eye as I bite into my breakfast sandwich. We are at my favourite coffee house in Taber, a cute mom-pop shop that's only five minutes from the university.

"And how many times do I have to tell you, you are impossible to argue with when drunk?" Wes shrugs, looking annoyingly cheerful this early on a Sunday, "Besides, Devon seemed like a good guy. He bought the whole team a round."

"You knew his name was Devon?"

"You didn't?"

"I could have sworn he told me his name was Dhillon." I take another bite and chew thoughtfully, "Honest mistake. They are pretty much the same."

"You got at least 3 of the same letters."

"Exactly."

Wes laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. We've been best friends since second grade, but that doesn't stop me from admiring the man's good looks. It's a good thing I see him as a brother because otherwise the dark hair, green eyes, and dimples would be a seriously dangerous combo.

"Did you have fun at least?"

I shrug, "Same old, same old. Nothing exceptional broke through my drunken haze."

"You know, if you actually allowed emotional attachments to form-

"Just because you're whipped doesn't mean I want to be."

-you might find the sex gets better if you commit to more than one night."

I glare at him, my raging hangover doing nothing to improve my mood.

Wes holds up his hands in surrender, "Just think about it. Wouldn't hurt to shake things up."

"Whatever."

Wes grins, "Are you excited for Monday?"

"Hell yeah." I grin back at him, my moodiness momentarily forgotten.

Our newfound status as co-captains for Taber University's lacrosse team still feels like a dream come true. Our old captain, Cody Ellsworth, stepped down last year to spend more time with his girlfriend, so the responsibility of team captain has fallen to us.

Wes snorts, "I wonder if Mighty Mo has gotten over your failed seduction yet."

I scoff, waving away his comment, "I was barely flirting that night."

"Dude. You offered to service him."

I grin, "Like I said, barely flirting. I'm sure our assistant coach has forgotten all about it by now."

Honestly, I barely remember that night. Everything after the championship dinner is pretty hazy, the endless rounds of tequila shots sufficiently blurring my memories of last year"s lacrosse banquet. I vaguely remember approaching our new assistant coach with his delectable physique in mind, but I would be hard pressed to say what went down after that.

Something pokes at my gums, and I drop my breakfast sandwich with a frown.

Wes shoots me a concerned look, "Are you okay?"

Reaching into my mouth, I pull out a strand of thick black hair and stare at it in horror. Wes makes a gagging motion across the table.

"Please tell me that"s yours."

My face crumples, "It"s Dhillon"s."

I throw the offending piece of hair on the table and Wes jumps up, knocking his chair over.

"Don"t let it touch me!" He backs up, trying to increase the space between himself and the table, "And his name is Devon, man. Say it with me."

"Fuck that. I"m going to be sick."

Smothering another gag, Wes covers his face with his hands, "I can't even look at it. Please, for the love of God, go floss your teeth."

I cross my arms, glaring at the hair that was trapped between my molars.

"I'm never touching another man again."

My best friend snorts, keeping his distance, "Doubt it. But maybe go for someone with less body hair next time. Or buy a razor to have on hand."

I poke at my breakfast sandwich with disgust, "I hate drunk Nico."

"You know what they say. Don"t hate the game, hate the player."

"I am the player, you idiot."

Wes grins, "Then maybe it"s time you played a different game."

Flipping him off, I abandon my breakfast and follow him out the door. The familiar ache of a hangover has my body feeling bruised and dehydrated, but it"s nothing new. My weekly routine is well established by now and suffering Sunday morning is all part of the schedule.

Tequila shots. Tabletop dancing. A man or two to play with.

Eat, sleep, repeat.

Despite my recent complaints, I live for being the player. The alcohol, the chase, the fleeting satisfaction of one night. It"s a shallow game, but it"s the only game I have ever wanted to play.

At least it was until I met him.