I woke up smiling like a psychopath.
Not because life was good.
Not because I understood literally anything about my situation.
No.
I woke up smiling because I kept replaying Aiden's dripping, veiny, wet, huge … everything.
My chest ached just remembering.
I still needed the diary.
The cursed, glowing, horny diary that put me here.
Goddamn it.
I pushed myself out of bed, trying not to look like a man having a full blown panic-gasm.
And maybe someone should have warned me that living in Russell's body meant living with three insanely hot, huge testosterone machines under the same roof.
I stepped out of my room, and saw Damien and Zane waiting.
"You ready?" Damien asked casually, stretching his arms above his head, shirtless. The light caught the muscles in his shoulders.
God, stop looking Benny.
Being here was going to be a nightmare.
I do not have the emotional stability to survive my own erection around these people?
I mean, you can't blame me tho.
They're all so attractive.
"And… what about Aiden?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though my hands were shaking.
Stupid, stupid Benny.
Why would you ask the about Aiden?
Still, I needed to know.
What if he decides to do something crazy, like throw me out of the window when he sees me.
Damien raised an eyebrow.
"What about him?"
"He… um… tryouts?" My voice cracked.
Damien blinked, looking confused. "He's getting ready. Tryouts in twenty minutes."
"Do you need some apple? You mentioned you liked apples yesterday." Zane tossed me an apple.
Right.
Yesterday I had asked about Apple as in iPhone.
And these cavemen thought I meant the fruit.
I smacked a hand over my face.
I still had to pretend I was a trained athlete, even though my body felt like a stranger's, and my mind… oh, my mind was still replaying what happened last night.
When we got to the locker room, I saw people staring at me.
Some were even whispering.
Damien sat on the floor, stretching those long limbs, in front of me.
"Why are they all staring at me like I murdered someone?" I whispered.
"They all saw your clip. Everyone expects you to crush it today." He nodded.
Yeah. Russell's tape.
Then a huge man holding a clipboard walked in.
"Morning, boys. I'm Coach Steve. We've got tryouts today. Silvervein Wolves is one of the best ice hockey teams in Estrella. Show me what you've got."
Everyone howled.
Okay, we get it now.
"Before we begin," Coach continued, "a moment of silence for Simon. One of our best. May we learn from his story."
The whole room bowed their heads.
My curiosity and lack of survival instincts kicked in.
I whispered, "Who's Simon?"
Zane's voice dropped. "Our last roommate. He died… a few days ago."
The room suddenly felt cold.
My throat tightened.
There were four rooms in the dorm.
And I was in one of them.
Oh my God.
"Wait," I whispered, looking horrified. "So I'm… in his room?"
Zane nodded.
"Holy shit!"
It came out much louder than intended.
Everyone looked at me.
Including Coach.
"Mr. Reyes," he said slowly, "is there a problem?"
"No! No problem! No issues, sir! I love hockey! I'm so normal!"
And then, because life hates me….
Aiden walked in.
His gaze found me instantly.
Coach clapped his hands. "Get dressed everyone. See you on the ice in ten."
Damien squeezed my shoulder.
"Locker 10. Good luck."
Then he jogged away.
I walked toward my locker, opened it, grabbed my clothes, and hockey stick, and slammed it.
Aiden was right ther..
Leaning on the locker next to mine, staring at me with a smile.
"Hello, Russell," he said. "That was aggressive."
I wanted to scream.
What is he doing here?
"Hope you enjoyed your sleep. And your… night." Aiden grabbed my shoulder, and kept smiling.
Why was he smiling like that?
Was he bipolar?
Or possessed?
Or possessed by a bipolar demon??
"Uh… yeah. Totally. I mean… yeah." My voice cracked.
He stepped closer.
Close enough that his shoulder brushed mine.
"Of course you did," he said softly. "Because if you tell anyone about that…" His lips brushed my ear. "…I'll break your legs. You'll have to crawl for the rest of your life."
What kind of kinky mafia threat was that again?
I gave him the blankest look I could muster. Please kill me now. Or later. Or…
And then he smiled. The most terrifying, dangerous smile I've ever seen.
Leaning even closer, he whispered again, "I can't wait to see you fall on the ice and get kicked out of Silvervein. Freak."
Then he walked away. Like nothing happened.
Leaving me sweating, shaking, and probably drooling.
I leaned against the locker.
My palms were sticky, my knees weak, my entire brain screaming, you are so dead.
This man was terrifying.
And hot.
And confusing.
And probably had issues that needed therapy.