“Oh, he doesn’t. This isn’t his place. He’s just renting it. Lowell is super private. Most of the team doesn’t even know where he lives.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nod. “Yeah. He had some…issues before. A relationship gone sour. He really took a step back after everything went down.”

  “Well, good for him for putting up boundaries. It sucks to be hurt by the people you love.”

  She sounds like she’s speaking from experience and I want to press, but we’re interrupted.

  “I don’t think we’ve officially met yet,” Miller says to Harper. “I’m Grady.”

  Harper glances at me as if to check to see if he’s cool. I nod.

  “Nice to meet you, Grady.”

  “I like your costume. Laurie Strode, right?”

  “Yes. Are you a fan?”

  “Oh hell yeah. Jamie Lee Curtis was looking hot back then. Hell, she’s hot now too. Like in those commercials for that yogurt that makes you shit.”

  “Helps you shit. Doesn’t make you shit,” I tell him.

  “Eh. Same thing.” He takes a sip of what I hope is water because he’s not exactly the best at holding his liquor. “Why are you two hiding out over here? I think they’re going to set up a game of poker in the basement.”

  “Does Lowell know that?”

  His silence tells me it’s a no.

  Whatever. I’ll let him deal with it. He’s the one in charge of all these idiots, not me.

  “So, uh, Harper…saw you brought a friend with you.”

  She rolls her lips together. “I did.”

  “Is, uh, she single?”

  Harper shakes her hand. “Sorta.”

  “Wanna help a guy out?”

  I groan. “Jesus, Miller. You can’t ask my date to be your wingman.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Harper says. “I’ll help you out. If you can find her, tell her you think Grease is better than Grease 2.”

  “What’s Grease?”

  “A movie. Don’t worry, she’ll tell you all about it.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  He takes off excitedly, a new pep in his step.

  “You just sent him to the wolves, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, certainly. Ryan would eat him alive.”

  “He’s a good kid. Hell of a player too. Just a little…”

  “Desperate?”

  I laugh. “You said it, not me.”

  “Speaking of desperate…” She leans into me. “I think someone owes me a corn dog.”

  “Did you just refer to my dick as a corn dog?”

  “What? No!” She tosses her head back. “Oh god. That did sound like that, didn’t it? I literally meant a corn dog. I am starving and those appetizers are just not doing it. I’m desperate for real food.”

  I place my hand on her stomach. “I swear this thing is a bottomless pit.”

  “It really is. And I’m sure all this food will catch up to me one day—and hopefully go straight to my ass—but until then, I’m going to enjoy it and eat until I burst.”

  “First of all, I think your ass is just perfect.” I slip my hand over it, giving it a squeeze. “Second, let’s get out of here. There’s a place I know that serves fair food all year long.”

  “Seriously? Like funnel cakes and root beer floats?”

  I swipe at the corner of her lip. “You’re drooling.”

  “Shut up.” She swats at me. “And lead the way.”

  She pushes off my lap and pulls at me to get up too. I grab her hand and lead her back through the house the way we came.

  There are even more people inside than before, but it’s like this every year. What starts as a party for the team and their spouses always turns into a full-blown rager.

  Harper tugs on my hand, and I look back at her.

  “I need to tell Ryan I’m leaving,” she says into my ear so I can hear her over the thumping music. She points toward the corner of the living room where Ryan is sitting, talking animatedly. Miller’s next to her, and he looks like he’s about to hurl. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol I’m almost positive he was drinking or if it’s from Ryan laying into him.

  Harper makes her way through the throngs of people and I hang back, crossing my arms over my chest, keeping an eye on her. She looks adorably tiny weaving around the tall players, but what’s funny is that I’m not sure any of them would be able to actually handle her.

  “Huh.”

  I turn toward the voice coming from my left.

  Lowell’s standing there, a red Solo cup lifted to his lips.

  “Huh what?” I ask.

  “You’re smitten.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Oh, no, dude. You are definitely smitten,” Rhodes backs him up, appearing on my right out of nowhere. “It’s all over your face. You’re totally into her.”

  “Of course I’m into her. I wouldn’t be here with her if I wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, but you’re really into her,” Lowell says.

  “Maybe even in love,” Rhodes adds.

  Me? In love with Harper?

  No. Not a chance.

  “It’s casual,” I say for what feels like the millionth time.

  “That’s what they all say.” Lowell sighs. “Then one day they’re madly in love and shopping for a ring.”

  “Then planning a wedding and picking out names for a baby.”

  Harper and Ryan put their heads together, and Miller takes his chance to slink away by literally sliding to the floor and crawling from their view.

  Neither of the girls notice. They’re too busy whispering about something. Harper points my way and Ryan looks over. She grins, then humps the air repeatedly and says something that makes her friend blush.

  Harper looks exasperated and shakes her head, but even from here I can see the hint of desire pulling at her features.

  Whatever Ryan said, Harper doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.

  And whatever it is, I don’t think it is either.

  I cannot wait to get her back to my place and show her just how much I missed her over the last few days. I have half a mind to march over there, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her out of the party right now.

  “There’s that face again,” Lowell comments.

  I feel my face pull into a scowl. “I am not in love with her.”

  “Methinks the dick doth protest too much,” Rhodes mocks.

  “Yes, yes. There has been a disturbance in the Force for sure.”

  “You two are fuckin’ nerds.”

  They don’t disagree with me.

  “It’s not love,” I insist. “We’re just fooling around. Nothing serious. It’s for the team.”

  They both lean around me, looking at one another.

  Lowell’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Right.”

  “Sure thing there, bud.” Rhodes pats my other side.

  “I fucking hate you both,” I mutter, shaking them off.

  The girls make their way back over to me, a soft grin playing at the edges of Harper’s lips as they approach.

  “Heard you’re taking my friend home,” Ryan says to me. “You gonna bring her back walking crooked again?”

  “Ryan!” Harper chides like I’m sure she’s done a hundred times before.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Collin! Oh my god.” Harper hides her face in her hands.

  “Good. That’s what I like to hear.” Ryan turns her attention to Lowell. “I heard there’s a poker tournament in the basement. Wanna go hustle some chumps with me?”

  “Fucking hell. Are they gambling again?”

  “Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you,” I say to him.

  “Shit.” He runs a hand down his face. “Last time they did this, a brawl broke out and we ended up with two players injured. I think somebody still owes someone else money too. Coach was pissed.”

  “So is that a yes on the hustling, then?”

  “Eh.” Lowell shrugs. “Why not? If they’re going to get me in trouble, might as well take their money and make it worth it.”

  He holds his arm out to her, and she hooks her hand around it.

  “Text me all the dirty details,” she says to Harper.

  Rhodes watches them leave, his perpetual sullen stare even more pronounced as they disappear into the crowd.

  “I’m heading out,” he announces. “Don’t text me the dirty details.” Then he rakes his eyes over Harper. “Or maybe do.”

  I step toward him, snarling in warning.

  He laughs, shaking his head as he backs away. “Told you so.”

  “What’d he tell you?” Harper asks once he’s gone.

  “It’s nothing.” I hold my hand out to her. “Come on. I’m suddenly starving too.”

  The way her eyes flare tells me she knows exactly what I mean.

  18

  Harper

  I was right about Collin’s apartment being swanky.

  We’re still in the lobby, but just from the decor and marble flooring, I can already tell whatever awaits us is going to blow my mind.

  “Evening, Mr. Wright.”

  “Hey, Beau. How goes it?”

  “Doing well, sir. I see you have a guest this evening.” The old man bounces his brows suggestively, and I have a hard time holding back my laugh. “Quite a beauty, too.”

  I’m suddenly glad we decided to change out of our costumes before grabbing food. Since Halloween was several days ago, we decided not scaring everyone would be best, especially with how recognizable Collin is.

  “Are you hitting on my girl, Beau?”

  He grabs his chest. “I wouldn’t dare, sir.” He throws a wink my way. “Besides, Meghan would likely hold a pillow over my head if I even thought about stepping out.”

  “Oh, she definitely would.” Collin waves a hand between me and the old man. “Harper, meet Beau. He may look old, but he’s a spry fella.”

  Beau sticks his chest out proudly. “That’s right I am.”

  I grin, sticking my hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, Beau.”

  He grabs my hand in his old, wrinkled one and brings it to his lips. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

  “I’m telling you, I got Meghan on speed dial.”

  “Oh, all right.” Beau sighs, dropping my hand. “I get it, I get it.”

  I smile at their banter, loving their playfulness.

  Something I’ve noticed about Collin is that he takes the time to get to know everyone he talks to. He learns their names and asks them questions. He doesn’t brush anyone off like they are beneath him just because he’s a famous hockey player.

  It’s…sweet.

  “Here.” Collin hands him an Oatmeal Creme Pie he picked up at Fair Foods. “Keep those paws off my gal and there will be more where those came from.”

  Beau looks at the pie, then at me. “I’m sorry, dear, but this is my first love. My heart belongs to Miss Little Debbie. And Meghan!” he adds. “Her too.”

  I laugh. “That’s all right. Collin here is about all I can handle anyway.”

  Beau leans in close. “He’s quite the shithead, huh?”

  “Speed dial, Beau. Speed dial.”

  The old man sends me a wink, then presses the button for our elevator.

  We step in, and even this space is extravagant, smooth, relaxing jazz playing over the speakers.

  We don’t speak on the ride to the twentieth floor—which is surprisingly fast—and I think it’s because we’re both too keyed up over what’s to come.

  When Collin slides his keycard—because a regular key is just too plain apparently—into the door, my knees begin to shake.

  I have no idea why. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.

  But there’s something different about tonight.

  Something that feels more…real.

  I don’t know if it’s because we spent the evening with his team or what, but there’s definitely been some sort of shift between us since we left the party.

  It makes me uneasy in both a good and bad way.

  Good because there’s a small part of me that wouldn’t mind more with Collin.

  Bad because…well, I’m terrified of giving him more. More will only lead to heartbreak. I’m sure of it.

  He pushes open the door and a light kicks on the moment Collin steps into the darkened doorway.

  “All the lights are automatic,” he explains.

  I try to rein in my shock but apparently fail as he laughs.

  “I came from a three-bedroom farmhouse that was built pre-plumbing. Believe me, I was shocked too when the real estate agent showed me this place.”

  I step into the hallway, and the first thing I notice is there’s nothing in it.

  Not a shoe rack or a closet. There’s nothing.

  “Come on,” Collin encourages, motioning with his head.

  I follow behind him as he leads me farther into the apartment.

  When we reach the end of the hall, everything opens up. What few walls there are have been painted a light gray, and the theme is minimalism.

  The first thing I notice is the size. I swear you could fit two of my apartments just inside this space.

  The craziest part is there’s a whole other level.

  The second thing I notice? The windows. They’re tall, taking up most of the perimeter. I walk toward them, looking out. We’re high up, and with the clear sky tonight, it feels like we’re floating.

  “I’m still me,” he reminds me, coming up behind me.

  “This view…it’s breathtaking.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  But I can see in the reflection that he’s not looking out at the night sky at all.

  He’s looking at me.

  His hands come to rest on my waist, and he tugs me back against him.

  “It’s too bad you took your costume off,” I say, leaning into him.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I could have made an Is that a knife you’re holding or are you just happy to see me joke.”

  He chuckles, grinding his erection against my ass, burying his face in my hair. “Oh, I am very happy to see you. I can assure you of that.”

  “So it seems.”

  I try to turn in his arms, but he doesn’t let me.

  Instead, he crowds me against the cold window, runs his hands along the length of my arms, and picks them up, resting my palms against the glass.

  “Keep them there.” He drags his fingertips back over my arms and down my sides until he hits my waist again. Slowly, he inches the fabric up, bunching it in his hands. “I’m so fucking glad you brought a dress.”

  I packed it to wear tomorrow, but it ended up coming in handy tonight. Right now, with Collin’s hands sliding the fabric up my body, I’m not mad about that at all.

  Cool air rushes against me, my dress now completely gathered at my hips.

  His fingers hook into my panties.

  “Don’t you dare rip them.”

  A low, rumbly laugh leaves him. “Yes, ma’am.” He dips his lips to my ear. “Oh. New kink unlocked.”

  A laugh bubbles out of me, but it quickly transforms into a moan when he nips at that spot just below my ear.

  “I love the way you taste.” Another bite. A lick. His fingers tighten on my hips, digging into me, almost bruising.

  He drops to his knees, dragging the lace panties down my legs until I step out of them.

  I have no idea what he does with them, and I don’t care. Not when his hands are on me, pulling me closer until my back is arched, my cheek still pressed against the window.

  He shoves my dress back around my waist, leaving me exposed to him completely.

  “Hold your dress up,” he instructs, and I listen, grasping the material in one hand. His hands roam over my bottom, a single finger tracing down the middle. “Beautiful.”

  He places a gentle kiss against my lower back as he reaches around, his finger finding my clit.

  I suck in a sharp breath at the contact. I’m already teetering on the edge of hanging on.

  He kisses me again. Then another and another. Lower, more brazen as he continues to rub circles against my very swollen nub.

  Suddenly he stands, and the sounds of him undoing his pants fill the air.

  He doesn’t once take his finger off my clit, not even when he pushes the blunt head of his cock against me. He’s careful not to push into me because we’re both aware he’s not wearing a condom, but suddenly I need to feel him bare.

  I push against him, an invitation.

  “Please.”

  I don’t have to tell him twice.

  He thrusts into me like we have all the time in the world—slowly and softly, relishing the way it feels to have him be inside me with nothing between us.

  Once he’s buried to the hilt, he begins to pump into me in short, slow strokes.

  The roughness of his jeans brushing against my legs feels like a whole different sensation. It feels naughty to be fucking fully clothed.

  “Too good.” He gathers my loose hair in his free hand, pulling it just tight enough that it stings. “Just too fucking good.”

  His lips find my neck and he trails kisses all over me, still sliding slowly into me.

  “I could get used to this,” he murmurs into my ear.

  Me too.

  So used to it that it scares me. Makes my heart ache with yearning.

  But I don’t tell him that.

  I can’t.

  I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, blocking out the thoughts as he adds another finger to my clit, his touch growing firmer, just like his strokes.

  Our breaths are coming in sharp, the window fogging up with the heat coming from our bodies.

  We’re both close.

  When he abandons my hair in favor of pressing his thumb against my asshole, everything that’s been building inside of me breaks and I come with a force I’ve never experienced before.

  Collin pulls out, grabbing my hips and spilling himself across my lower back, like he’s claiming me.

  He drops his forehead between my shoulder blades as we take in labored breaths, his fingers flexing and relaxing on my hips over and over again.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Harper,” he says quietly. “But you’re even more stunning after I’ve marked you.”

  He spins me in his arms and crashes his mouth to mine.

 

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