Chapter 70 70: The Authentic Shot
The kitchen was thick with the scent of brewing coffee and the deceptive safety of Cam's banter. Baby stood at the counter, his back to the hallway, trying to focus on the simple task of cracking eggs while his mind replayed the way Saint's hands had felt on his skin only an hour ago.
"So, who was she?" Cam asked, leaning against the kitchen island with a smirk. "Since she kept the legendary Baby Danvers in bed until midnoon, she must be some diva to make you skip practice." He asked, pinning Baby with gossip-hungry eyes.
Baby cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "She is..." he trailed off.
Cam frowned, "That's it? Where's the juicy information? Big tits? Big ass? Mad skills? Come on, what kept you locked–"
Cam's voice died in his throat.
The floorboards groaned in the hallway, and Saint stepped into the kitchen. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He hadn't even bothered with a robe. He stood there in nothing but low-slung grey sweatpants, his hair a messy crown of dark waves, looking like a man who owned every inch of the air he breathed.
"Morning," Saint said, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that sounded intimately like the bed they had just left.
Baby's heart did a violent somersault. He stared at the eggs in the pan, his hands frozen. He could feel Saint's presence behind him—a warm, solid weight that made the kitchen feel ten degrees hotter.
Cam stared at Saint, then at Baby, then back at Saint. His mouth hung open for a second before he blinked. "Kross? What the hell? You... you just woke up?"
"Hard to sleep when your co-captain is making enough noise to wake the dead," Saint lied smoothly, leaning over Baby to grab a mug from the cupboard. He stayed there for a second longer than necessary, his bare chest brushing against Baby's shoulder. "Thought I'd see if the 'chick' left any breakfast."
The air in the room was so thin that Baby felt lightheaded. Saint was playing a dangerous game, standing right there with the evidence of their night written all over his own back in the form of faint red scratches.
"Ah, trust me, Baby's conquests never make meals. They're just good in bed and hate the kitchen," Cam said, winking at Baby.
Saint leaned beside Baby, watching the wide of Baby's lowered face, "Perhaps not all his conquests –"
Cam scoffed, "Trust me, I know. We swing his conquests all the time," He stated proudly, smirking at Saint.
He wasn't appreciative of Saint's sudden jovial attitude that morning.
A very negligible smirk tugged on the corner of Saint's lips, Cam mussed it, but Baby could feel it even without turning his head.
"I'm sure it's not all of them. A man must have exceptions... am I right, Baby?" Saint asked lowly, his body slightly leaning in to make sure Baby felt his heat.
Baby shrugged, "Maybe." He murmured.
"Wait," Cam said, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the island. "Baby, hold on."
Baby stiffened. "What?"
"That mark on your neck," Cam reached out, his hand moving toward the dark purple bruise Saint had left near Baby's jawline. "That's a hell of a hickey, man. It's almost on your chin. She must have been a biter."
"Cam, don't—" Baby tried to pull away, but Cam was already leaning in, his fingers inches from the bruise.
"Seriously, look at the shape of it," Cam persisted, his face full of curious amusement. "It looks like... wait, is that a tooth mark?"
Before Cam's fingers could make contact, Saint's hand shot out. He grabbed Cam's wrist mid-air with the same lightning-fast reflex he used on the ice.
"Leave it, Cam," Saint said, his voice dropping an octave into a warning growl. "He's clearly embarrassed enough as it is. We have a reputation to maintain, remember? If the media sees him looking like a chewed-up toy, it's on both of us."
Saint didn't let go of Cam's wrist. He used his other hand to reach out, his thumb "accidentally" grazing the very bruise Cam was inspecting. The touch was electric, a silent claim that made Baby's breath hitch.
"I'll get him some concealer before we head to the rink," Saint added, his eyes locked on Cam's. "Now, are we eating or are you just here to perform a forensic audit on Danvers' neck?"
Cam blinked, looking confused by the intensity in Saint's gaze. He pulled his hand back as Saint released him, a small, awkward laugh escaping him. "Right. Forensic audit. My bad. Just... damn, Baby. Be more careful."
Baby finally exhaled, the eggs in the pan starting to burn. He looked at Saint, who was now calmly pouring himself a cup of coffee, looking like the most "Perfect Captain" to ever exist—except for the way his eyes flickered toward Baby's lips, promising that the "chewing" wasn't over yet.
After breakfast, Baby and Cam escaped to Baby's bedroom.
"So, are you ready for Shannon's message?" Cam asked, sitting crossed-legged on Baby's bed.
Baby had just stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist, his face already bored from the discussion.
"No need, I already know what it is. It isn't the first time she's writing me formally to remind me of a project I failed to submit," Baby sighed, "just let her know I'll send it in by next week –"
"You know Shannon, Baby. She needs it in two days. And she asked to make sure you do it with your partner... Saint," Cam frowned, "That bastard has been acting so weird the whole morning. Be careful, Baby, I think he's up to something." He advised.
Baby turned away, pretending to pick his clothes from the wardrobe to hide the instant blush that crept on his face at the mention of Saint's name.
"I don't think he's acting weird," Baby murmured, pulling his pants on, and hoping Cam let it go.
Cam scoffed, "Oh, please. He's been staring at you the whole time. Looking for every little topic just to speak to you, and once I even caught him trying to touch your face, or wait... maybe I saw wrong," he scratched the back of his neck as he furrowed his brows his thought.
"Whatever, my point is, I do not trust his friendliness. We do not trust him, right?" Cam asked, folding his arms.
Baby finally faced Cam, sighing as he slowly buttoned his white shirt.
"Don't think too much about. Remember we're now in a Unified Contract, we've been literally forced to be friends –"
"Friends?" Cam interjected, regarding Baby with suspicious eyes, "That's very weird of you say giving the person in question. All I'm saying is... do not trust him –"
His words were cut off by the sound of Baby's door opening and in walked the man in question.
"Great, your friend now enters your room, too," Cam glared at Saint, who was walking toward Baby in calm strides.
Baby's knees weakened as he stared at the man walking toward him.
Saint I a tank black top had always been his weakness even when he was in denial. Seeing him in one and low-hanging black jeans, Baby's pulse jumped so high his head felt dizzy.
It was only when Saint paused in front of him that he realised he was supposed to question what Saint was doing in his room.
"Um, Saint... what are you doing here?" His eyes communicated his distress.
However, Saint ignored him and laced a hand over Baby's shoulder, causing Baby to freeze.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Cam got down from the bed and marched over to them, his eyes pinned on the way Saint's arm hooked around Baby's neck.
"Yeah, Saint. What are you doing here?" Baby asked, trying to step away from Saint before Cam started a fight.
Saint calmly faced Cam, handing his phone to him, "Good thing you're here. Click some shots for THC, I need to run a quick errand in the city." He dropped the phone into Cam's hand, smiling.
Cam blinked in realisation, "Oh, you could have just waited outside for your THC shot. No need to barge into his room like that." He muttered, lifting the phone in front of him.
"Come on, Baby," Saint ignored Cam, raising his hand and gesturing for Baby to return to his side.