Scoring with the Wrong Twin (Ice Chronicles Hockey #2)

16. Savannah

16

Savannah

How did I not see this sooner? How could I have mixed them up? And what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

Back in my room, I sink onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. Images flash through my mind—Blaze by the creek, Blaze at the pool, Blaze just now, smiling at Emma. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time, and it’s overwhelming.

And yet… it’s not just overwhelming. It’s infuriating. I feel like I’ve been played, like he knew exactly what he was doing. But then again… did he? Was this all just a giant misunderstanding? Or did he let me believe what I wanted to believe?

I slump back against the bed, my head thudding against the headboard.

My mind is spinning, replaying every interaction I’ve had since I stepped foot on this ranch. Blake. Blaze. The names blur together now, but the faces… well, those were apparently always the same.

I press my palms to my eyes, trying to block out the memories flooding in. The steady, quiet man who taught me to saddle a horse, his calm presence soothing me when I felt out of my depth—that was Blake, right? It had to be. Or was it Blaze? I groan, kicking off my boots in frustration.

And the intensity by the creek, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world? That had to be Blaze. Only Blaze could make me feel like that—like I was standing too close to a fire and didn’t care if I got burned. But then again… hadn’t Blake made me feel safe, like I could breathe, like I could finally stop running?

My head feels like it’s about to explode. I’m not just confused—I’m unsettled. Did I fall for one of them? Both of them? Or am I just so screwed up that I can’t even tell the difference? The worst part is, now that I know, I don’t think I want to tell them apart. Because if I do, I have to face the reality of who I’ve been with, who I’ve kissed, and who I’ve let bury his face between my thighs until I came all over his tongue.

I have to face the reality of who I’ve let strip me bare, teasing every inch of my skin with his lips. Who I’ve let trace every curve of my body with his fingers, making me shiver with anticipation. Who I’ve let explore the depths of my pussy with his tongue, licking and sucking until I was writhing and begging for more. Who I’ve let take my nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting until I was arching my back, desperate for more. Who I’ve let slide his cock inside me, filling me completely, every thrust driving me wilder and wilder until I was screaming for more. Who I’ve let take me to the edge and push me over, shattering me into a million pieces as I came, clenching around his cock, feeling every inch of him deep inside me.

Holy shit.

How can I be wet and confused at the same time?

I groan again, grabbing a pillow and burying my face in it. This is a disaster. A full-blown, someone-please-call-FEMA disaster.

There’s a knock on my door, and I freeze.

***

For a split second, I think it’s Blaze—or Blake—but then I hear Aubrey’s voice. “Sav? You okay in there?”

I pull the pillow off my face, trying to sound normal. “Yeah, come in.”

The door creaks open, and Aubrey steps in, her belly rounding out her loose dress. She gives me a once-over and quirks an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Close,” I mutter, sitting up. “Try a twin tornado.”

Her brow furrows as she closes the door behind her. “What happened?”

I hesitate, debating how much to tell her.

But then the words come spilling out—about the confusion, the moments I thought were with Blake but now realize might have been with Blaze, and the realization that the man I slept with, the man I kissed by the pool, was Blaze all along.

Aubrey listens patiently, her expression shifting from surprise to sympathy to something that almost looks like amusement. When I finally stop, she leans back in the chair by the window and lets out a low whistle.

“Well. That’s… a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” I say, throwing my hands up. “I don’t even know where to start. What if Blake finds out? Do you think he’ll hate me? What if Blaze knew the whole time and let me think he was Blake? And what if—”

“Savannah,” Aubrey interrupts gently, holding up a hand. “Breathe. One thing at a time.”

I take a deep breath, though it doesn’t help much. “I’ve screwed everything up, haven’t I?”

Aubrey shakes her head, her expression softening. “No, you haven’t. You’ve just gotten yourself into a… complicated situation.”

“Understatement of the year,” I mutter.

“Look,” she says, leaning forward. “Sean and I weren’t perfect either. We had our fair share of messy moments. But sometimes, the best things come from figuring out the hard stuff. You just have to be honest—with yourself and with them.”

I chew on her words for a moment, trying to let them sink in. “So what do I do? Tell them both everything and hope for the best?”

Aubrey tilts her head, considering. “Maybe not everything. Not yet. But you need to figure out what you want, Sav. Otherwise, you’re just spinning your wheels.”

“What if I don’t know what I want?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Then take the time to figure it out,” she says simply. “No one’s rushing you.”

Her calm, steady tone starts to soothe the edges of my panic. For the first time since this whole mess started, I feel like I’m not completely alone in this.

Aubrey smiles, her hand resting on her belly. “Now, enough about you. Can we talk about me for a second?”

I blink, startled, and then laugh. “Oh, God, I’m the worst. You’re growing a tiny human, and I haven’t even asked how you’re doing.”

“It’s fine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “But since you asked, Sean and I have been working on the nursery. He wants this whole cowboy theme, but I’m leaning toward something more neutral. You know, soft greens and yellows.”

I smile, picturing Sean—big, gruff, no-nonsense Sean—arguing over paint colors. “Let me guess, he’s all about the baby cowboy boots?”

“Of course,” Aubrey says, rolling her eyes. “But it’s sweet. He’s been so excited. I think it’s his way of channeling all his nerves.”

Her words are warm, filled with love, and for a moment, the chaos in my head quiets. “You guys are amazing parents,” I say sincerely.

“Thanks,” she says, her smile turning soft. “And you’re going to figure this out, Sav. Whatever happens, you’ve got me. Always.”

Her reassurance brings a lump to my throat, but I swallow it down. “Thanks, Aub.”

She stands, giving my shoulder a squeeze before heading for the door. “Anytime. Now, get some rest. Seriously, you look like you’ve been wrestling cattle.”

I laugh weakly as she leaves, but the humor fades quickly. Her words linger in my mind: Figure out what you want.

I glance at the window. I don’t have the answers yet, but I know one thing for sure—I can’t keep running from this. One way or another, I have to face it.

Wait .

There's still the problem of how am I going to know who is who from now on when they’re wearing clothes and I can’t see the tattoo. The thought makes my stomach knot. I can’t exactly ask them to strip down every time I’m unsure, although I'd love to be able to do that.

This is ridiculous. I bet Aubrey knows—after all, she’s seen them alone and together many times. She must have a trick.

I grab my phone and fire off a text.

Hey, quick question. How do you tell Blake and Blaze apart?

LOL. It’s all in the details.

Details? Like what?

Blaze has thicker eyebrows, for one. They’re more… untamed. Blake’s are more groomed.

Thicker eyebrows. Got it. What else?

Dimples. Blaze’s are deeper when he smiles. You’ll know it when you see it.

OK, thicker eyebrows, deeper dimples. Anything else?

Blaze still has traces of those blond highlights if you look closely. It’s barely there, but you can see it in the sun. Blake’s hair is darker and more uniform.

Why does this feel like I’m studying for an exam?

Because you kind of are. ?? Don’t worry. Once you notice, you’ll never forget.

Thanks, Aub.

She replies with a thumbs up.

I toss my phone onto the bed, Aubrey’s advice swirling in my mind. Thicker eyebrows, dimples, leftover blond highlights. Great. Now I just have to get close enough to figure out if the light hits their hair differently. This is going to be… interesting.

Just as I’m starting to relax a bit, there’s another knock on my door. This time, it’s heavier, firmer. My stomach flips.

“Savannah? It's me.” His voice rumbles through the door, low and casual. “Why’d you take off earlier? Didn’t even say hi.”

'Me' fucking who.

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. Whoever 'me' is, he doesn’t know. He has no idea I’ve just unraveled every thread of this tangled web.

“Sav?” he calls again, his tone curious but calm, like this is just another conversation.

I sit there, staring at the door, knowing I can’t avoid either of them forever.

But right now, I have no idea what to say.