Anton whistles. “Welcome to Lake Tahoe.”
We climb out and stretch. It was about forty-five minutes from Reno airport to here, but Tripp, Oskar, and I aren’t exactly small, and even the back seat of a Jeep Grand Cherokee has its limits.
“Anton and I call the main bedroom,” Ezra says, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“Why do you guys get to claim that?”
“Because, Plus-One, we’ll need the en suite for quick cleanup.”
I scowl at the nickname. I know they’re only joking, but I can’t shake the feeling I’m intruding. Ezra and Anton are being more or less the same, but Oskar has barely acknowledged me at all. He gives me this long look before turning to Tripp. He has the same sort of piercing blue eyes as Ezra, but where Ezra’s eyes always seem like they’re laughing, Oskar’s feel like they’re looking for trouble. His full-body tats add to that impression. His left arm is the only thing bare of ink.
“Come on.” Tripp hands me my bag. “Let’s go pick our rooms.”
The stone-and-wood theme continues inside to a living area with a massive fireplace, a timber kitchen, and hardwood floors.
Anton and Ezra take the first bedroom, Oskar ducks into the second, and I follow Tripp down to the third. He walks inside and does a double take when I follow.
“What are you doing?”
I dump my bag on the bed. “What do you mean?”
“Dude, there are five bedrooms. Get your own.”
I blink at him. “We’re not sharing?”
Tripp looks like he doesn’t know what to say. “Are you kidding?”
“I thought … Ezra and Anton are.”
“Yeah, because they’re planning on banging all night.” He takes my bag and hands it to me. “Dex, I love you, but I’m not going two weeks without jerking off. Find your own room.”
I almost, almost say we can do that shit together—it’s not like we’re subtle in our rooms at away games. I mean, we don’t talk about it, but that’s the rule on the road. You always pretend you don’t know when the dude in the bed next to you is rubbing one out. But the sharing a bed thing is probably where it crosses a line.
I act like it’s no big deal and take my bag before heading down to the next room, wondering if this is one of those things that should have been obvious.
It hadn’t occurred to me that we’d have separate rooms.
It’s not a big deal, though, because we won’t be spending much time in them anyway.
I get changed into some swim shorts and grab my towel because the lake is calling my name. The others must still be unpacking or whatever, because there’s no one else around as I head down to the short dock and jump in.
The water is heaven. I dive deep and swim across the murky bottom, killing time until Tripp comes out to join me. And even though the day has started out with awkwardness, I know it won’t take long for everyone to loosen up. There’s no way any gross lingering feelings can hang around out here.
I have no idea how long I swim for, but when my skin starts to feel more hot than warm, I grab my towel and head in. Anton’s sitting on the huge front deck, wearing swim shorts and a T-shirt, black hair parted as neatly as ever, while he sips a glass of scotch or bourbon or something. Even just hanging out casually, he intimidates me a bit. Where Tripp’s thing is being the sweet one, and I’m the dumbass one, Anton is the one who has his shit together.
“Good swim?”
“Yeah, it was nice.” I nod at his swim trunks. “You going in?”
“Maybe when Ezra gets back. I’m relaxing for the moment. Winning the Stanley Cup really takes it out of you.”
“Is that how it’s going to be for two weeks? Constant ribbing by you and Ezra on how you kicked our asses?”
“When you go away with two of the most egotistical guys in the league, you really should be expecting it.”
I grin because he’s not wrong about that. Hockey players all have a healthy amount of ego, but Anton and Ezra take it to the next level.
“So where’d he go?”
“For a walk somewhere with Oskar and Tripp.”
“Tripp?” I turn to look toward the tree line like he’s going to pop out at any moment. “He, umm, he didn’t say he was leaving.” Huh. Well, I guess we never actually talked about going for a swim first; I just assumed he’d join me.
When Anton doesn’t reply, I turn to find him watching me. “Maybe he wanted time with his other friends.”
“Nah.” I immediately dismiss the idea. “We do everything together.”
“You don’t do … everything together.”
My face heats. “Do you … are you meaning, like, sex stuff?”
Anton shrugs.
“Well, no. We don’t do that. Obviously.”