One Hot Summer

My brother grinned and I wished I hadn’t made the mistake of asking. “A blow job, Aiden. The answer to that question, no matter who asks you, is always a blow job.”

King of etiquette my brother would never be.

But he was a good guy deep down and I owed him. Maybe that’s why I never moved out.

Maybe it was why I gave up my own opportunity to play professional hockey to teach and coach it instead.

When the scouts approached me in high school, I knew I couldn’t do that to Axel. He was my best friend, my brother, the only family I had left. I couldn’t steal the dream he’d given up to take care of me.

But I loved being on the ice. I always had, since going to his games as a kid. The speed, the agility, the raw power and intensity. It was equaled only by sex.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to fuck and I’m damn good at it. But with sex, I always had to hold back.

I was well-endowed and kind of intense. Okay, extremely intense. Even the most sexually adventurous girls needed me to back it down a notch or two.

But with hockey, I could let it go, unleashing every ounce of my aggression on the ice, on my opponent.

I was past ready to get back out there. We’d been one win away from making it to the Frozen Four last year. Due to a knee injury keeping me out during my first two years of undergrad at Southeastern, I was still able to play on the college team as a grad student. The NCAA had given me four years of eligibility. Luckily it didn’t matter to them which four I played. This was my last season and I was going to make it count. I might never go pro, but I wasn’t going out without setting some records.

Jogging alongside the water’s edge to where the food trucks were parked, I decided I’d skip Axel’s party and crash in the camper tonight. I needed to get up early and hit the ice in the morning.

Sunday morning was the best time to go. It would be completely empty. The rink was my version of church.

I was so jacked thinking about it, practically sprinting with excitement, that I ran smack into a blonde near the carnival ticket counter.

Her firm body molded to mine as I pulled her toward me to keep her from falling. The scent of wildflowers filled my head.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said, startled by the sudden impact. “You okay?”

Her wide hazel-gra

y eyes met mine and I realized that I knew her.

Well, I didn’t know her know her. But she was in my art history class at Southeastern and she worked at High Octane, the coffee shop on campus. She also happened to be fucking gorgeous.

I’d been lusting after this girl all summer and she’d never so much as looked at me twice. She usually seemed to be in a hurry.

Like now.

She stepped out of my reach, composing herself quickly.

“I’m fine.” Not a trace of recognition in her gaze.

Yeah, that stings a little.

“Good, I’m glad. I really am sorry. I should watch where I’m going.”

“Do you happen to know what time it is?” Her teeth sank into her lower lip and her magnificent mouth was so enticing I had to look elsewhere. “My phone died, and my friend ditched me, and my little brother was supposed to meet me here at nine.” There was panic edging her voice.

I pulled out my phone and glanced at it. “He’s fifteen minutes late.”

She sucked in a breath, heaving her full chest upward into my line of vision.

Do not look. Do not look.

I looked.

Damn, she was edible. She always looked sexy in class, but tonight she wore short ass-hugging shorts and a loose low-cut shirt, making my dick twitch.