Bas and Spencer show up at our apartment an hour before the sun's even considered rising for the day. There's snow on the ground, more still floating through the night sky, and it's quickly turning into slush.

"Kaila! There are three duffle bags out here and only one of them is mine. It's for two nights, not a week!" I yell from the kitchen, frustratedly smacking the coffee maker until it submits.

"I have a lot to bring!" She hollers back.

A door slams, and Kaila appears in the doorway with a blanket tucked under one arm, and a neck pillow under the other. She's clad in her favorite pair of pink sweatpants that I know have the phrase "If you can read this, your eyes are in the wrong place" across her ass. Her hair is pulled back in a neat pair of braids, feet shoved into rainbow fuzzy slippers, and sporting a black cut-off t-shirt without a bra.

"I don't know where we're staying so I have two swimsuits, one for you," she clumsily wiggles a finger in my direction, "and one for me." She turns the digit on herself. "Just in case."

"And the rest of it?" I press, drum my fingers impatiently while the coffee brews. The K-cup machine broke, so we've been slumming it one slow percolated drip at a time.

Kaila shrugs, "Well two towels, of course. Hotel ones are just—" she makes a very un-ladylike gagging noise. "And shampoo, conditioner, some jeans, a few sweatshirts..." Kaila drones on, my ears bleeding with the onslaught of information this early.

"Okay," I throw an arm up, "forget I asked."

She wrinkles her nose, stalks over to her bags, and dumps the pillow and blanket over top. "I also packed condoms, do you need some?"

I'm about to shout a hell no when she waves a hand, bends down, and unzips her bag. "Never mind, I know your default answer. When you're facing a very naked, sexy as fuck Bas, you'll change your mind."

My heart lurches into my throat. Not only have I faced a nearly naked, sexy as fuck Bas, but I sat on his lap and demanded that he jerk off for me. Then, like that wasn't enough, I'd taunted him for it. Worse, I had enjoyed it.

It's nothing I've ever experienced before, being the one in charge. New, but intoxicating. I want that control again. I want the power to make a big, sexy hockey player helpless to my words and touch.

I remember the way his eyes burned up at me, how his grip and strokes had gotten desperate while I watched. He was just as turned on by the power trip as I was. I fucking loved it.

"See? You're already going all gooey-eyed at the thought." Kaila grins, pulling me from my heated memories and dropping a box of condoms into my bag. "I gotchu girl," then, "these are Spencer's favorite, so hopefully you like 'em."

I gawk, give a strangled, alarmed noise, and flush bright red.

Kaila giggles. "Damn I love teasing you."

"I hate you."

She mock pouts. "Aw, that's mean." Then a squeal, and, "Oh! I packed three of my most mouth-watering lingerie sets. I'll throw in one of those, too."

I have the unquenchable urge to strangle her.

Then Kaila vaults to her feet, top flying up to expose her breasts. Suddenly my need to asphyxiate her takes a backseat to the need to preserve her decency. "Are you really going out like that?" I gesture.

The coffee maker makes a glorious ding and I jump on it, pulling out the pot and pouring the piping liquid into two travel mugs.

"What's wrong with it?" Kaila spares her outfit a confused glance.

I roll my eyes. "At least put a bra on," I chide.

Kaila clucks her tongue. "That's what sweatshirts are for my sweet Reecie," she looks me up and down. "And you're not in much better shape, there. Anti-morning person from Hell."

I frown at my light blue hoodie, bunny-covered fluffy pants, and bootie slippers. "I'm not dressed," I inform, capping her coffee and handing it to her.

Kaila shrugs, accepts her mug, and checks her phone. "They'll be here shortly. Better move Reeciecup."

Not even a full five minutes pass before there's a knock on our door. I'm shoving my legs into leggings when Kaila yells at me to get my ass out there or they'll leave me behind.

The rebellious part of me wants to test that threat. Instead, I shrug on a faded red hoodie, that falls to my mid-thigh, and join them.

Both boys stand in our kitchen space, their big frames making the room appear even dinkier. Spencer's focused on Kaila's questionable public appearance. Bas is scrubbing his hands over his face and hair, mussing it up most deliciously. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch it, pull like I did a few nights ago. I want to see that high in his eyes again.

Bas sighs, leans against the countertop. His bruises are just about gone, only notable when he spots me and smiles. "Morning," he greets. I make an unrecognizable sound and point at my coffee. Bas chuckles and hands it over. "Not a morning person, eh?"

"As if," Kaila comments, I poke my tongue out at her.

Spencer, arm around Kaila's waist, waves, "Hey Reagan."

I wave back on a grunt. Coffee first.

"Well, let's go. You two can sleep on the way." Bas gestures between Kaila and I, then reaches for the duffle closest to him, which, consequently, happens to be mine.

Spencer gets both of Kaila's, his brows furrowing at the weight of them. "You moving, West?"

Kaila huffs and rolls her eyes. "I pack for all occasions." She flounces past us.

Spencer follows, Bas takes my hand and pulls me after him. I twist the lock on the door, slam it securely shut, and tromp down the steps.

Frigid air slams into me before I've even reached the bottom. Kaila is cowering inside the doorway on the landing, glowering at our slower pace.

"The cold is shedding years off my life! Move!" She orders, yanking on Spencer's arm the moment he steps off the bottom stair.

Bas laughs in front of me, and the action pulls my attention to the back of his head. "Aren't you glad I'm not nearly as bossy as her?" I tease.

Bas looks over his shoulder at me, lips quirked into a devilish smirk. "I wouldn't mind if you were," he says. "In fact," Bas reaches the landing and turns, hands grazing my hips, halting me on the last step so that we're at eye level. His voice drops to a low whisper, gliding along my cheek and making me shiver. "I think you enjoy telling me what to do."

I scowl, march past him. "I don't know what you're talking about," I promise.

Bas's hand comes to rest in the small of my back, a mischievous little smile on his lips. "If you say so."

I roll my eyes. But my thoughts are back on that night a few days ago. It had been my hand on his throat, my nails raking furrows over his skin, my words that brought him to the edge. Bas had embraced it, as if pain and pleasure were one in the same for him.

Asher had seen pain and pleasure as one and the same too, but in an entirely different way. Where Asher made me scared, Bas makes me feel safe. Where Asher enjoyed my pain, Bas looks for ways to heal it. Where Asher took charge and made demands, Bas gives up control and waits for my cues.

Bas pulls on the back door of a green Ford, gestures me inside. Kaila's already sprawled out across the seat, her feet kicked up on the back of the headrest. Spencer's batting at her foot like a cat, even as she giggles and continues to knead his shoulder. I climb inside, settle into the warming car, and almost instantly fall asleep.

**

The sun's blazing down when I start to come to. There's a low thrum of music coming from the front seat and the car's steady rhythm threatens to lull me back into unconsciousness. Save for the sharp pain in my side.

I shift, find Kaila's knee jamming into my ribs. Somehow, she's turned herself around on the seat with her head on the door and legs bent, snoring softly. I fight with her limbs, try to shove them out of my way.

She doesn't budge. Just lashes out and kicks Bas in the arm.

"Hell," he mutters, rubbing his elbow.

"It's just your shooting arm," Spencer teases. "You'll be fine."

Bas chuckles. "She should come with a warning label."

Spencer laughs, fiddles with the music volume. "You don't know the half of it."

"I don't want to," Bas returns.

The car speeds up, Spencer exhaling a curse, and we switch lanes. I lay my head against the seat, hood up, and stare out the window as the world whizzes by. I'm trying to discern what kind of language the singer is using when Bas speaks again.

"What's up with you two Spence?"

"With who?" Spencer returns.

Bas scoffs, there's a rustle and a twist as he shifts to look back at us. "You and Blue, dumbass."

Spencer's silent for a moment, then, "Are they still sleeping?"

"Kaila for sure is. Reece, I can't see her face. But probably. They're tired, too early for them." Bas reasons.

Spencer sighs, starts flipping through radio stations. "Since when do you care?"

"Since you're my friend and this is the longest I've seen you with a girl." He prompts. "Last time this happened you ended up a father."

My stomach twists. Does Kaila know?

"Why do you care?" Spencer growls.

"Because she's important to Reece," Bas begins, his hand brushes over my leg, and I almost jerk in response, but suppress the urge. "If you hurt Kaila, you'll hurt Reece, and I'll have to hurt you. You see where I'm going with this?"

"Yeah, I'm catchin' on." Spencer laughs, the sound loud and jarring. "What happened to 'bros before hos'?"

"Reece is more of a bro than you'll ever be."

"Damn," Spencer draws out the word. "Right in the heart."

"Good." Bas chuckles, waiting patiently for Spencer to continue.

There's a pause followed by a deep sigh. "I'm not entirely sure," Spencer begins slowly, and my heart starts a fervent beating in my chest. "Kaila's the first girl in a long time to feel like family. Dad and Mom aren't really in the picture. I've been alone for a long time. She just...feels right."

"Does her shit vibrate?"

Spencer must've shoved Bas's arm because he rocks in his seat. Then there's a grunt and a retaliating slap. The car swerves slightly, not enough to cause damage, but enough for me to notice.

I risk turning my head, silently glare at the two of them.

"Look," Spencer regains control of both the car, and the conversation. "I don't know where exactly we're headed, but I don't want to walk away either. It's not just fun, it's something else, I don't know what to call it. I thought it would be annoying having someone text me all the time, but her messages are the highlight of my day. If I'm frustrated because of some team dynamic, she listens. She also gives damn good advice."

"You're catching feelings." Bas teases.

Spencer snorts. "Must be coming from you, Killfeather."

"In that case, I'm glad I could help you out Haart."

Another snort. "What about you and Reagan? I saw those claw marks. Looks like you got into a fight with a lioness. You give her that good of a dicking?"

I flush scarlet. Bas's tone, however, is nonchalant. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Boo," Spencer grumbles. "Tell me about her, then."

"What about Reecie?" Bas hedges, tone suddenly cold and guarded.

Spencer seems to take notice too, because he responds with, "Nothing bad, just wondering what her story is."

"It's not mine to tell." Bas reasons, then, "Though, I'm surprised Kaila hasn't mentioned anything."

"She's tighter than a clam when it comes to Reece. Where they were that week after the game, what made Reece so jumpy around cameras, why she's always wearing sweatshirts and hoodies—"

"Enough," Bas cuts him off, voice sharp. "Just don't be surprised if I call you to help me bury a body."

Spencer guffaws. "Fuck, man. Whose car are we taking?"

Kaila reacts to the sound, rouses from her slumber, and sits up, bleary eyed. "We there yet?"

Bas glances back at us, first to Kaila's still half-unaware expression, and then to me. Our eyes lock, and hazel seems to bleed into gold as the sun slants, casting his face in a tawny glow. Something about the way he looks at me, how his pierced eyebrow rises in amusement, I know he knows I've been awake this whole time.

"Another hour," Bas informs, shoving hard on Spencer's shoulder, who's still laughing.

Kaila gives Spencer a funny look, scowls, and curls up again.

"Shut up," she moans, plugging her ears. "I'm going back to sleep, don't wake me unless it's to let us out of this damn car."

Spencer does his best to stop laughing. I shift, return to staring out the window. Not too long after, my eyes start to flutter, and for once, I dream.