Page 89 of Icebound

“I’m really not—”

“More like you demanded to come to my room,” Micah mutters, using a tissue to dab the champagne from his face.

Her apology hangs in the air as damp as our soaked attire. With one last glare at him, the woman slams the door, leaving us alone in the minimalistic chic room with one king bed.

“Okay, what just happened?” I ask. “And where’s Rhode?”

“He’s trying to get another room since they only had one left for us, and he doesn’t like to share.”

Micah undoes the buttons on his wet shirt, peeling away the fabric to reveal a torso sculpted in bronze perfection. He’s got women sliding into his DMs hourly, but I feel absolutely nothing when I look at his eight-pack. Never have. Though, I do like having someone to text in Spanish to practice.

He plops down onto the foam mattress, shirtless, and spreads out his arms like a snow angel. “Thanks for that, Phil. I owe you one. I didn’t really want to sleep with her, and I was trying to think of excuses and couldn’t. Things just started moving so fast, and I didn’t know how to tell her no, so your timing was great.”

I sit on the cloud mattress. “What do you mean too fast? Last week you sent a picture of you, Wyatt, and Rhode at that go-cart arcade in Los Angeles, and the text literally said vivir la vida en el carril rápido.”

“Yeah, I’m still not sure if that’s how you say ‘living life in the fast lane,’ but whatever. That’s what I get for only using my Spanish to order enchiladas. Also, we need to work on your pronunciation. It sucks.”

“Sorry, we can’t all have bilingual grandparents. So, what happened tonight?”

He runs his hands along his clean-shaven jaw before exhaling a deep sigh. “I just wasn’t feeling it. She wanted, uh… more, and I didn’t want to go there with her because I’ve never done that.”

“You’ve never done what before? Had hotel room sex?”

“No.” He chews on his bottom lip until there’s a sharp indent on his skin. “I’ve uh, never done that at all.”

I tense, trying not to show my surprise. “Oh.”

His face is too tan to blush, but there’s a softness in his features I haven’t seen before. “I didn’t want to do it tonight. She wanted to, which is why your timing was perfect, so thanks.”

My eyes widen involuntarily, but Micah peers at me like he’s watching my reaction, so I mask my expression.

He waves a hand. “Go ahead and laugh. It’s hilarious. The NHL’s rookie fuckboy is actually a virgin.”

His voice wavers a little, so I reach for his hand, giving him a gentle squeeze. “You don’t know me very well if you think I’d laugh at you for that.”

He fists the sheets, avoiding my eyes. “Really? So, you don’t think it’s fucking lame that I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin?”

“No. Not at all. Who gives a shit? It’s your body. Do whatever the hell you want. But why does everyone talk about how much you sleep around?”

He rests his cheek on my shoulder, relaxing. “It all started when I first joined the League. This one video of me skating shirtless went viral online. So many people slid into my DMs with the dirtiest comments. It was hot at first, but it got weird fast. Tremblay’s the only one who could relate, so I talked to the old man—”

“Stop calling him that. It’s rude.”

“Never. It’s our thing. He calls me kid, and I call him old man. Anyway, he told me to ignore it, but now I feel like I’m lying to everyone. Don’t get me wrong, I fuck around and do other things, but not as much as people think. I just talk a good game to keep up the image.”

“You don’t have to act like that just because that’s what people expect. There’s nothing funny about being forced to be someone you’re not. Wearing masks is exhausting.”

“People like sex. It sells.” Micah shrugs. “I started getting all this attention online because of the shirtless videos, and it got me a lot of followers, so I kept playing into the image. It’s my fault, but I don’t really give a shit. I mean, I do, but I don’t, you know? It’ll be awkward when I fuck someone and only last two seconds, though.” He claps his hands together. “Surprise! No orgasm for you.”

“If someone gets mad at you for that, then they deserve for it to only last two seconds. You can always go again. It takes time to figure out the whole sex thing, anyway. Most people’s first times are awful.”

Micah’s eight-pack clenches as he leans up off the mattress, but he’s got nothing on Rhode’s body. He smiles at me, big and contagious. “Thanks for that, Phil. I needed to talk to someone about all of this, and Tremblay’s always talking about how you’re a great listener.”

I perk up. “He talks about me?”

“Yeah, all the time. It’s annoying as shit. If I have to hear one more time about your speech, or all the pottery you make, or that fellowship, I’m going to shove my head in a toilet.”

“That’s disgusting.” Laughing, I rest my head on his shoulder, and he puts his smooth cheek on the top of mine.