Chapter 1
There are three things I hate: warm vodka, frat houses, and whatever the hell is happening in this kitchen. I came here to be a good friend, not to inhale three kinds of body spray and witness public foreplay.
I lean back against the island, swirling vodka in my solo cup, watching a couple grind-slash-make-out against the fridge like this is their goddamn honeymoon suite. Her fingers are tangled in his hair. His hand is halfway down the back of her jeans.
Classy.
I don’t even like being here. Parties like this are the kind of chaos I usually avoid. Too many people. Too much cologne. And not enough personal space. But Maddie wanted to come, and I’m a good friend. So here I am, silently judging under cheap fluorescent lights while someone blasts music from a speaker that sounds like it’s been kicked down a flight of stairs.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I glance down, already knowing who it is.
Mads: Just walked in. Where are you?
I look up at the same moment I spot her. Winding through the crowd with her drink in hand, wearing a look that could kill a man in three strides.
“You look like you’re about to fight someone,” I call as she finally makes it to the kitchen.
“Not yet.” She sets her cider down with a thunk and wipes condensation from her palm. Her shirt is soaked down the front, clinging to her stomach. “But the night’s still young,” she mutters, tugging at the wet fabric.
I tip my cup toward her, smirking. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Maddie’s gaze flicks around the room, slow and sharp, like she’s cataloging threats. Her eyes catch on the couple by the sink. Handsy. Drunk. Oblivious.
“Jesus,” I say dryly. “They look like they’re about to breed right here in the kitchen.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I’d like to unhear that.”
“You’re welcome.”
Maddie smiles into her cup and takes a long sip, but her eyes keep scanning.
She’s looking for him. I know it.
Fucking Austin.
Cheater. Gaslighter. Walking red flag with a hockey stick.
It still pisses me off how quickly he made her feel disposable. How he broke her down without even raising his voice. Guys like him don’t get caught. Until they do. And when he did, Maddie flipped the script so fast it made him dizzy. Landed a job as the hockey team’s social media manager. And now she’s fake dating Nate Kincaid, the team’s backup goalie.
Fake dating. Yeah, okay.
I know my best friend too well. She’s catching feelings, whether she admits it or not. And Nate? That boy already jumped off the deep end. I see the way he looks at her like she hung the goddamn moon.
Maddie’s still scanning, lips tight, so I shift beside her and roll my shoulders like I’m already over it.
“I’m already bored.”
“You’ve been here ten minutes.”
“Exactly.”
Truthfully, I could’ve stayed in. Or better yet, gone to see that guy I’ve been seeing. The one with the soft voice and ridiculously good hands. He’s different. Calmer. Makes me feel seen without making me feel trapped. I don’t know what to do with that.
I’m halfway through that thought when the kitchen door swings open again and in walk two men who know exactly what they’re doing.
Nate’s here. Which, okay. Expected.
But the guy next to him?
Not expected.
I’ve seen him before, sure. Around campus. At the rink. Moose, they call him. Though I doubt that’s his real name. He’s tall. Built like a fucking wall. Broad shoulders, massive arms, legs like tree trunks. He’s got a backwards hat on, hoodie sleeves pushed to the elbows. His shaggy brown hair curls on the outside of the hat.
He walks in with that cocky ease, like the party’s just been waiting on him.
His mouth curls into a grin the second he sees us.
“Ladies,” he drawls, coming to a stop in front of us. “I knew I felt the room get hotter.”
I don’t even blink. “Are you concussed?”
Moose bursts out laughing, clutching his chest like I shot him. “Damn. That one hurt.”
“Good.” I take a slow sip of vodka. He’s annoying, and he’s hot, which is the worst kind of combination.
Behind me, I can feel Maddie biting back a smile.
Moose leans against the counter, still grinning like I haven’t just told him to go to hell. “You got a sharp tongue. Bet you put it to good use.”
I stare at him, deadpan. “That was your opening line?”
He shrugs, unfazed. “You seemed like a girl who appreciates directness.”
I swirl my drink, tilting my head. “And you seem like a guy who eats gas station sushi and thinks it’s fine.”
Maddie chokes on her cider.
Nate’s trying not to laugh, but he claps Moose on the back. “That’s tough, buddy.”
Moose narrows his eyes at me, but he’s still smiling. “Alright, alright. That was good.” He points at me, still too entertained. “But just so you know, I’m not giving up that easy.”
I give him a slow once-over, completely unimpressed, and sip my vodka. “You should.”
He looks like he’s having the time of his life getting rejected.
Nate and Maddie peel off to the side, talking in lowered voices. Maddie’s brows are pulled together, her lips doing that tight line thing she does when she’s anxious.
I keep one eye on her as Moose turns his attention back to me, fully ready to double down.
“You always this mean to guys who flirt with you?” he asks, voice low, teasing.
I arch an eyebrow. “You always this persistent when someone’s clearly not interested?”
“Oh, you’re interested,” he says, grinning. “You’re just pretending not to be. It’s kinda hot, actually.”
My body heats under his gaze, but I don’t let it show. I just keep staring like he’s boring me, even though he’s not. Not even a little.
He leans in a fraction. “You got a boyfriend, or you just like making men suffer?”
“Why not both?” I deadpan.
He laughs again, dragging a hand over his jaw. “You’re something else.”
I shrug. “Takes one to know one.”
His eyes flicker over to where Maddie and Nate are still talking. Maddie’s frowning now, clearly not loving whatever’s being said.
Moose’s expression shifts for the first time, just slightly. Then he pushes off the counter and steps over to Nate, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Alright, enough small talk. Who’s ready for something stronger than whatever watered-down crap they’re serving out there?”
I stare at him like he’s just offered to pour lighter fluid directly into my mouth. “I would literally rather die.”
God knows what bottom shelf disaster someone brought to spike the punch.
Moose grins over his shoulder. “That’s a maybe.”
Somehow, I’ve ended up alone. Maddie wandered off with Nate about an hour ago, probably doing whatever fake-dating couples pretend they’re not into. I glance around the room. Drunk freshmen, spilled beer, and guys making questionable life decisions.
Definitely my cue to leave. But I can’t ditch Maddie, so instead I decide to find something stronger. A refill to pass the time until she’s ready.
The kitchen is a disaster zone. Plastic cups are everywhere, the air thick with body heat and music loud enough to shake the walls. I spot the vodka at the end of the counter, half-hidden by a tower of empty beer cans. Jackpot.
I weave through the crowd, sidestepping a couple locked together in the middle of the room, their mouths fused like they’re in a movie scene. Gross. But also, good for them, I guess.
I barely make it halfway before I collide into something solid. Someone solid. I look up into familiar dark eyes, twinkling with a cocky amusement I’ve come to recognize way too quickly.
Moose.
I roll my eyes, stepping back slightly. “Are you following me now?”
“Maybe you’re the one following me,” he says, mouth curled into a wicked grin. His eyes trail slowly down my body, lingering a little too long before returning to meet my gaze. “Not that I’d blame you.”
I tilt my chin up, refusing to back down, even though my heart picks up pace. “You really don’t get tired of getting shot down, do you?”
“Who says you’re shooting me down?” He steps closer, just barely brushing his knuckles against my hip. The heat of him sears through my jeans, making me shiver despite myself. “I think you like this game as much as I do.”
I blame the vodka. I blame the way his voice slides over me, smooth and dark and unfairly sexy. Because before I can stop myself, I’m smirking back up at him. “And if I did?”
He blinks, momentarily caught off guard, eyes darkening instantly. His voice drops lower, rougher. “Then I’d say we should find somewhere a little more private to continue.”
His breath ghosts across my cheek, his lips just a whisper away from my ear. Warmth coils deep in my belly, desire sliding hot and slow through my veins. I can smell his cologne, something dark and spicy, mixing with the clean scent of soap. God, it’s unfair how good he smells.
My voice sounds breathier than I mean it to when I finally speak. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
He chuckles softly, entirely unfazed. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
I swallow, feeling my cheeks flush. Moose dips his head lower, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I’m good at two things, Jess. Hockey, and making girls come. And right now, I don’t have my hockey stick.”
My breath catches audibly. Jesus Christ. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes smoldering, his expression entirely too confident.
“I don’t need to fuck you to make you come,” he murmurs. “This mouth is good for more than just smart-ass comments.”
Heat floods my body, pooling low in my stomach. My knees feel suddenly unsteady. Before I can second-guess it, Moose extends his hand, palm open, waiting patiently. A challenge. An invitation.
And god help me, I take it.
His hand wraps around mine, warm and strong and slightly calloused, as he leads me from the kitchen. My heart pounds harder with every step. The noise of the party fades behind us, replaced by the blood roaring in my ears.
We reach a bedroom upstairs. It smells faintly like detergent, the space mostly untouched except for the slightly messy sheets. Moose closes the door behind us, clicking the lock into place, and turns to me, eyes heavy and hooded. Every nerve ending in my body tingles.
He moves toward me slowly, deliberately, backing me up until the backs of my knees hit the bed. He pauses, gaze locked on mine, silently waiting for permission.
I nod once, barely noticeable.
It’s all he needs.
He leans in, his lips finding mine instantly. The kiss is soft, teasing at first, then deepening until I’m breathless. His mouth moves with devastating skill, his tongue sliding against mine in a slow, heated rhythm that makes my heart stutter. He tastes like whiskey and something dangerous.
Moose gently guides me down onto the bed, his weight pressing deliciously against me. His mouth trails down my jaw, finding the sensitive spot beneath my ear. I gasp softly, and he smiles against my skin.
“Tell me what you want, Jess,” he whispers, his voice raw, low. “Let me hear you.”
My fingers thread through his thick hair, holding him closer. “You know exactly what I want,” I whisper back, my voice trembling slightly. "We didn't come in here to talk. Thought that mouth of yours had other talents."
He groans softly, a low, approving rumble. His lips slide lower, over my collarbone, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. He moves downward slowly, hands skimming my sides, lifting my shirt just enough to press kisses to my stomach. My muscles jump beneath his mouth, anticipation coiling tighter and tighter.
He looks up at me, dark eyes locked on mine, and slides my jeans slowly down my hips, letting them drop to the floor. Cool air brushes against my bare thighs, but it’s quickly replaced by the heat of his mouth, his kisses trailing inward until I’m arching up, desperate.
“You look fucking perfect,” he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and pulling them down. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, my heart slamming in my chest as he settles himself between my thighs.
His eyes hold mine, and he gives me one last slow smile. Then his mouth is on me, hot and perfect, and every rational thought I have flies out the window.
He takes his time, teasing at first, licking slow, deliberate paths that make my hips rise helplessly. My fingers tangle tighter in his hair as he focuses exactly where I need him, lips closing around me, tongue swirling perfectly. My thighs tremble, muscles tensing under his hands as he holds me firmly, keeping me pinned beneath him.
“Fuck,” I gasp, hips arching toward his mouth. “Moose—”
He growls against me, vibrations rippling through my entire body. “That’s right,” he rasps, voice rough and heated. “Say my fucking name.”
His words send another shockwave through me, pushing me closer, tighter. He works me expertly, mouth relentless, hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer against his face. I’m dizzy, spiraling quickly, sensation building until I’m shaking, barely breathing.
“Let go, Jess,” he demands roughly, voice muffled against me. “Come for me.”
That’s all it takes. My vision goes white, pleasure exploding through my body, muscles trembling and pulsing. I cry out his name, fingers gripping his hair hard enough to hurt. He doesn’t stop, working me gently through every aftershock until I’m a shivering mess beneath him.
When he finally pulls back, mouth damp and swollen, his gaze is heavy, satisfied. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips curving into a slow, devastating smile.
“Told you I was good.”
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, heart still pounding erratically. “Don’t get cocky.”
He chuckles softly, eyes sparkling. “Too late for that.”
We gather ourselves slowly, fixing clothes and smoothing hair. My knees still feel weak when we step back into the hall. But before I can get my bearings, I spot Maddie coming toward me, her face pale, eyes bloodshot like she’s been crying.
“Maddie?” I ask quickly, stepping toward her. “Hey, are you okay?”
She shakes her head sharply, visibly shaken. “We need to leave. Now.”
My stomach tightens with worry. “What happened?”
She swallows hard, her voice shaking slightly. “Austin’s pulling his usual bullshit. I just...can we please just go?”
I nod immediately, casting a quick glance back at Moose, who watches quietly, understanding clear in his expression.
“Yeah,” I tell Maddie gently, looping my arm through hers. “Let’s go home.”
We leave quickly, stepping back into the cold night air. Maddie’s silence is deafening beside me, my concern outweighing the lingering warmth and satisfaction from moments ago.
But as we walk away, I can’t stop myself from looking back over my shoulder once more.
Moose stands in the doorway, hands shoved casually in his pockets, watching me leave. He catches my gaze and smiles softly, nodding once.
Fuck.
I might be in trouble.
