25. you win

Chase

Our steps echoed as we navigated the deserted hallways of Northview Arena. I entered the security code next to the dressing room entrance without looking, and the red metal door unlocked with an obedient click. Leaning against it with my hip, I pushed it open and gestured for Bailey to go first.

“Wow,” she breathed, scanning the giant 3D logo in the middle of the floor, the rows of glossy crimson lockers, and the custom LED lighting.

“Pretty sweet, huh?” The Boyd dressing rooms had been completely renovated the year before I started, courtesy of a massive donation by an anonymous alumnus. I was awed the first time I saw them too. They were sleek, modern, and would put most of the dressing rooms in the NHL to shame.

Taking her hand in mine, I led her over to my locker at the end of the room, nearest the entrance to the ice. It would be difficult, but I was going to try to keep this G-rated while we were in here. I wanted to actually get in some skating with her.

For a little while.

After that, all bets were off.

I may have had some plans for later.

“Yeah, your dressing room is way nicer than ours.” She caught herself, plump lips folding into a frown. “Wait. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

I set our skates on the bench beside us, glancing back over at her. “When were you in the Bulldogs locker room?” As usual, the question slipped out before I could stop myself. And it didn’t sound nearly as casual as I would have hoped.

Bailey stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. Instantly, my willpower disintegrated. Fuck G-rated; if I kept it PG-13, I would consider it an accomplishment.

“To do a piece for Callingwood Daily, you big caveman.” Her hazel eyes glinted playfully.

“Ah.” I ran my fingers down the sides of her ribcage, spanning the curve of her waist over her soft pink sweater. Even with her height, she was still a good measure shorter than me, not to mention way smaller. I loved how she felt beneath my hands—pliant and feminine.

I tilted my head and leaned closer, my mouth meeting hers. Bailey let out a little sigh and parted her lips, letting me taste her. I took her bottom lip, sucking on it before pushing into her sweet mouth with my tongue.

Gripping her waist, I pulled her closer, warm curves pressing up against my body. She stood on her tiptoes as I deepened the kiss, taking, tasting, claiming. Desire surged through me, my cock growing harder by the second. Then I remembered where we were. If we didn’t stop now, we would never make it onto the ice.

I slowly pulled back, breaking the kiss, even though every fiber of my body was begging me not to. Bailey looked back up at me, eyes more golden than green in the light of the room.

“For the record,” she said, booping me on the nose with her finger, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I was just curious.” I shrugged, reluctantly releasing her.

Her lips tugged. “Sure, Carter.”

Opening the digital lock, I hung up her bag and my gray canvas jacket, then quickly threw on a black lightweight training hoodie over my T-shirt. Bailey opted to keep her coat on over her sweater, claiming she was cold. Why were chicks always freezing? The high today was sixty-four degrees, which was shorts weather as far as I was concerned. But I ran at a million degrees year-round, especially when I was moving.

We slipped off our shoes and laced up our skates. Then I tossed in the rest of our stuff before securing the locker again. Probably wasn’t necessary at his time of day, but it was a force of habit.

From the home bench, I opened the gate for Bailey. She skated backward, blond hair flying loose in the breeze. “Come on, slowpoke.” She made a come-at-me gesture, arms spread wide.

“You’re not half bad.” I stepped onto the ice with a huge grin. She was so fucking cute.

“Oh, I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”

“I bet.” I took a few easy strides in her direction, coasting. “Gonna show me?”

Bailey turned away from me, calling over her shoulder. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

I picked up speed, drawing closer to her but holding back a few feet. Then I let her get away from me a few times, intentionally missing by a narrow margin when I reached for her. Finally, I couldn’t wait any longer. She made it to the corner, and I picked up speed, carefully grabbing hold of her. I came to a stop, spinning us both and pushing her into the boards.

She looked back at me, lips softly parted. “I guess you win.”

I had her in my arms, so I definitely did.

“Looks like it.”

I pinned her up against the plexiglass, wedging a thigh between her legs. She let out a little gasp, her eyes glazing over.

“This is so much better than the other kind of boarding,” I murmured, my attention falling to her full, kissable lips. “But now I’m going to get turned on every time I’m in this corner during a game.”

Hand sliding up her neck, I held her in place as I crashed my lips to hers again. Kissing her was unreal, like everything else in the world instantly vanished the moment our lips came together.

And each time, she relaxed a little more. Softened somehow. Maybe it was a trust thing. Either way, it drove me crazy in the best possible way.

After a minute, we broke apart.

“Carter?” She held on to my forearms, breathless and wide-eyed. I was too, and definitely not from the skating.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to lose my balance if you keep kissing me like that.”

“I got you,” I said, voice husky. “I won’t let you fall.”

* * *

Skating didn’t last long.

We burst into the locker room in a frenzy of kissing and groping. I sat on the bench and got out of my skates in ten seconds flat. Beside me, Bailey struggled with hers, not as accustomed to getting in and out of them quickly.

“Here.” I picked up her legs, turning her ninety degrees and taking her feet into my lap. I quickly loosened the laces, tugged off her skates, and placed them out of the way on the bench.

Then I pulled off my hoodie and tossed it aside. I picked her up, pinning her against the wall beside the lockers. Our lips collided, and everything exploded. It was different from any kiss we’d shared before: hurried and needy, hungry and wanting. Gripping the backs of her thighs, I lifted her off the floor and thrust against her, pressing between her legs. A whimper escaped the back of her throat. She wrapped her long legs around me as I pushed into her again, and she tilted her hips in rhythm with me.

Her mouth moved against mine, fingers digging into my shoulders. I was in the zone. So into her that it put me into some kind of trance. And so lost in her that at first, I barely heard the faint rumble of wheels rolling down the hallway. Then they got louder—and closer.

I tore my lips from hers, freezing as I listened to the approaching sound.

“What?” she asked.

“Shit,” I muttered. “It’s Roy.”

“Who’s Roy?” Bailey whispered, scanning my face nervously.

“Our custodian.” I glanced over my shoulder, calculating.

Her eyes widened. “We are so busted.”

“No, don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” I had no real reason to think that, but I didn’t want her to freak out. At least it was probably just Roy. I was 95 percent sure. If it was Coach Miller, we might have a problem.

“I’ll deal with him,” I said. “The bathrooms have stalls. You can hide in there.”

Bailey nodded. “Okay.” She darted around the corner, and a split second later, the door swung open. Roy walked in, pulling the janitorial cart behind him.

Thank Gretzky.

Scrambling to sit, I leaned an elbow on my bent knee and attempted to seem casual. The fact that I had a massive fucking hard-on made it a difficult task.

I waved at him. “Oh hey, Roy.”

“Chase?” His brow furrowed, then he glanced around the locker room in confusion. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Needed some extra ice time,” I said. “Coach said I had to work on my crossovers. You know how it is. The grind never stops.”

I’d done this numerous times before for practice purposes, but the one time I ran into someone, my presence here wasn’t even a little legitimate.

His eyes fell to the bench, landing on the second pair of skates. God dammit, why didn’t I hide Bailey’s stuff? With no blood supply above my waist, I could barely carry on a conversation, let alone strategize.

Roy cleared his throat. “I see.” He gave me a knowing look, fighting back a smile. “Well, I’ll start in the offices and let you get out of here before I circle back. Have a good night, son.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You too.”

He pulled the door open, and it swung shut behind him.

“All clear,” I called softly. Bailey tiptoed back into the changing area. Her face was six shades of red.

“Oh my god,” she said, covering her mouth. “Is he gone?”

“Yup. We’re good. Just a close call.”

She didn’t need to know that we were totally busted. But I was pretty sure Roy wouldn’t tell anyone. He was a nice guy. I always gave him a hundred bucks at Christmas as a thank you for cleaning up after our gross asses. If he kept this under wraps, I would double it.

Our eyes locked, and Bailey stifled a laugh, shaking her head.

“See?” she said. “I knew you were trouble.”

* * *