Page 34 of Three Hockey Hotties

So whatever this is in regard to me, or could be, it can’t last.

It’s temporary.

I just need to enjoy it tonight.

Just a crazy roller coaster ride of a day that I can tuck away as an amazing memory.

Especially when I’m back in my apartment and alone in my lumpy bed at night with my vibrator.

My cheeks warm at the thought of getting myself off to fantasies of Kane, Dash, and Benjamin.

“Whatcha thinking about, Lollipop?” Kane drawls, nudging my knee lightly.

The smirk on his face indicates he thinks he knows exactly what I’m thinking about.

I’m a terrible liar.

Not only does it go against my nature, but I’m really bad at it.

So I just give a noncommittal, “Hm.”

“What do you want to eat, Abby? Steak, chicken, veggie fajitas?” Dash asks.

Considering my mouth feels too dry to swallow I say, “Veggie. Please.”

A minute later the SUV pulls into the driveway of a midcentury inspired house on a partially wooded lot. It’s glass and wood and seems to hover inside of the landscape surrounding it.

“Your house is beautiful,” I breathe. “Wow.”

“Thanks,” Benjamin says, and he sounds genuinely proud. “I love this house.”

Before I can say anything further Dash is out of the car and has my door open. Kane is grabbing my suitcase out of the back and Benjamin is asking if I want a glass of wine.

They’re all so solicitous.

I’m not used to being taken care of and while my instinct is to protest, I decide against it. It feels…cozy.

Dash’s hand is on the small of my back, just like Kane’s was earlier.

Both of their touches feel so natural. It’s hard to wrap my head around but I don’t want to question it either. I just want to enjoy it.

Temporarily, I remind myself.

“No, thanks,” I tell Benjamin. “If I had a glass of wine right now I’d probably just fall asleep.”

“Then let’s get you fed and tucked in for the night,” Kane says, jogging up the front steps and entering a code on the touchpad by the front door.

While I would never say that I’m any sort of badass woman, I do consider myself to be independent, even if sometimes my actions are laced with anxiety.

Like earlier at the arena.

I get nervous. I doubt myself. I struggle to feel fully confident sometimes.

But at the same time I always strive to be independent, to take care of myself, to appreciate this life I’ve been given in the very literal sense.

I also carry guilt from knowing how much my parents had to take care of me and how that damaged their relationship with my sister.

Being cosseted and cared for is something that normally makes me uncomfortable.