Chapter 1
I FUCKING REGRET COMING HERE. I should’ve just gotten delivery then I wouldn’t have to deal with all these people and this fucking packed cafeteria. They all look happy to be back and refreshed from winter break. It’s getting on my last fucking nerve.
Max, Monroe, and Jake dragged me here after practice. I protested as much as I fucking could, but it didn’t matter, they basically grabbed both my arms and forced me through the damn cafeteria doors.
I feel like crap and being here is eating up the last of my energy. Practice was fucking brutal today. Coach ran drill after drill and at one point I felt like I was gonna puke all over the damn ice. When the nausea bubbled in my gut I felt more like a freshman rookie with sea legs than a seasoned third-year, first-line D1 winger.
Running ten-plus miles before morning skate usually doesn’t fuck with me like this. I can handle it. At least I think I’ve been handling it. I know I’ve been pushing it. I can’t stop though. It’s the only thing that settles my thoughts. That makes me feel slightly better above my baseline of misery. That and watching her.
I can’t take two steps without someone stopping me. I keep my mask in place while I say hello and attempt to be as friendly as everyone expects me to be. I force smiles, try to respond with more than a grunt to what people are saying, and seem like I give a shit. I don’t.
Everyone’s talking about this weekend and what they’re getting up to. There’s a massive party tomorrow night at Drew’s place and no matter what excuses I’ve tried to come up with I know I’ll need to make an appearance. My sister is determined to go and I can’t get out of it no matter how much I rather just hole up in my fucking room.
Two well known jersey chasers flank either side of me and ask if I want to meet them after dinner to pregame before a party over on Greek Lane. Fuck. No. I don’t. I can’t shake my head no fast enough. I step out of their grip and ignore their whines. I want nothing to do with any of that.
“You just gave up dessert. I bet a little sugar would turn your frown upside down,” Monroe says with a smirk and a wink. I immediately think of Sloane at the mention of sugar. She uses it with everyone. Well not me, but everyone else.
“Have at it,” I tell him and continue walking while he hangs back to talk to the two blondes. I just want to eat my meal and get the hell out of here.
I may be in the middle of a jam-packed college cafeteria but I’ve never felt more alone. I may play on a team with my brother, some of my best friends, and a great group of guys, but they just don’t fucking get it.
They already have all these damn opinions about me. They think I’m dumb as a puck when it comes to Sloane. They love to point out the damn obvious and poke holes in my thinking. They really don’t understand why I won’t date my sister’s best friend.
I’ve spent an insane amount of fucking time, more time than any sane man should, thinking about what things would be like if I wasn’t me and she wasn’t her. If I wasn’t her best friend’s brother and there wasn’t a wall of my mistakes stacked between us.
It’s like that damn angel is constantly wagging her condescending finger in my face about it. I may be fixated on righting my wrongs, but Sloane’s never been in my blind spot. I don’t need any reminders of what could be if things were different. I know some of my feelings aren’t one-sided.
She lets me look at her for as long as I want. I’ve caught her secretly smiling when she notices I’m near her. Those smiles are just for me.
She’s never found me following her or already in her line of sight and turned away in fear. I think she likes it. I know my boys think I’m being a dumbass for letting her go when the reality is I never had her in the first place.
I have her the only way that seems to keep the two sides of my heart intact. Otherwise, I’m in a constant state of feeling ripped apart.
They think I should forgive myself because B said that everything’s okay now. But it isn’t. I know it isn’t. I see how she scans rooms for exits, sizes up people she doesn’t know, and seeks out Max when she gets anxious and needs comfort.
It’ll never stop for her. Sure she’s gotten better at managing it, at coping with how she feels, and processing what’s gone down. She’s the strongest person I know. But her trauma is embedded into her skin. I contributed to those scars. Me. Her brother. How the fuck am I supposed to forgive myself for that?
It’s easier to just avoid everyone than continue to have to hear their opinions on what I should or shouldn’t be doing when it comes to Sloane. I had no choice tonight when my boys cornered me in front of my cubby and insisted I come to dinner.
I don’t hang out much anymore. I didn’t think they gave a damn. No one has said anything, but then again I haven’t really given them the chance to.
I’m firmly carrying a tray of food with both hands locked on either side of the blue plastic rectangle when I finally make it to my teammates. My sister’s sitting next to Max and I’m not the least bit surprised she’s there. No, what has me near fumbling and dropping my damn tray is the drop-dead gorgeous girl sitting on the other side of her.
I haven’t seen her since the final day of last semester and goddamn, she looks hot. She’s back and I can’t fucking take it. My heart is beating outta my goddamn chest when I think about what this means. I’ll get to be with her again even if it’s in my own fucked up way.
It’s crazy how much I fucking missed her. The distance between us felt like a long crack along the fault line of my soul. The air in my lungs has been slowly seeping from that ripped seam. And being face-to-face with her again has me really struggling to breathe. She’s so goddamn gorgeous, her beauty steals whatever air I have left in my pitiful body.
Her effect on me is astonishing and fucking profound. Every cell that makes up who I am is acutely aware of the insanely stunning Sloane Higgins and what she does to me. Every damn time I’m in her vicinity I fucking short circuit - it’s like I lose my ability to fucking function.
It’s downright embarrassing how quickly I lose my shit when Sloane shares space with me. I can’t help it, and I definitely can’t stop it. I’ve got zero control. It just fucking takes over.
I’m literally buzzing standing on the other side of the table with my entire team in between us. I feel hot all over. My hands are sweating. The tips of my ears are burning. I feel disoriented. She’s like a real-life fever dream.
This started from the first moment I saw her. She knocked me on my ass as soon as those whiskey eyes pinned me in place. That sweet southern twang in her voice settled deep in my bones.
That sassy yet prim and proper attitude of hers hooked me. My heart damn near exploded in my chest and my throat closed up when she smiled at me. It was instant. I was immediately paralyzed. Sloane Higgins rendered me speechless and stupid. I haven’t been able to recover since. I’m in deep with this gorgeous girl.
She’s living, breathing proof that love at first sight exists. Since last August, no other girl matters in the slightest. No one compares to her. It’s the kind of attraction that drives men fucking mad and the kind of love that would start wars.
It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. Honestly, I’ve considered getting my head checked once or twice over it. Until then, I’ve diagnosed myself with intense insta-infatuation. It’s clearly a real fucking thing and it’s plagued me since the start of last semester. Onset was fast and hard. Symptoms include being infatuated and fucking obsessed. The prognosis isn’t good and there doesn’t seem to be a remedy available to make it go away. Seems terminal.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually spoken to her. We’ve been alone less than that. I’ve touched her twice. During a nightmare that I was wide awake for, I held her in my arms and clung to her hand for dear life. She brought me peace when my world was caving in. She’s that powerful.
These minor moments shouldn’t add up to the monumental feelings I have, but they do. I’m nuts over this girl and everyone knows it. They all see it. I couldn’t deny it if I tried. Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it though. I can’t. I won’t.
The devil on my shoulder is fucking drooling and I don’t disagree. She looks good enough to eat. I get lost staring at her pretty mouth. Another symptom. He whispers a thousand depraved thoughts into my ear and images run through my head faster than any clocked mile I’ve run today. Her face is flawless with soft-looking skin and pink lips. The things I want to do to that mouth.
Those honey eyes are big and bright, framed by made-up jet-black long eyelashes. Our eyes collide and I’m a fucking goner. I want them on me while I push into her. Take her. Claim her. It’s all I can think about.
Her long wavy hair cascades down her shoulders while her ends curl around her dark green sweater. I want to wrap it around my fist while I pound into her from behind.
Her delicate neck looks delicious. I want to bite and nip at her sensitive skin. I want to kiss the tip of her nose. Suck on that pouty bottom lip. Lick into her mouth. Drink her down until I’m drunk off her taste.
Her tits are round and perky and I’m jealous of the wool material that gets to hug them. I want them in my face, in my hands, and her sweet little nipples wet from my tongue.
Don’t get me started on the bottom half of her. She has legs for fucking days. Slender and toned. Perfect for wrapping around my torso. And her ass. God, her ass. There are no words that do it justice and the things I want to do to it are downright obscene.
She’s the most beautiful girl in the whole goddamn world. A wet dream come to life. The angel smacks the devil upside his head and I’m reminded that this is all this can be: Fantasy after fantasy of what I would do if I could. It can’t be real.
“You gonna sit your ass down, or are you gonna stare at Red all fucking night?” A, not so quietly asks when he comes up behind me. Subtle has never been in my brother’s wheelhouse. His attempt to be a dick and draw attention to my staring, is not enough to get me to tear my eyes away from her though. I don’t give a fuck. If he only knew how much staring I actually did last semester.
I don’t want another second to go by that doesn’t include me having my eyes roam over every inch of her. I was doing everything in my power to avoid situations that put me this close. Keeping her in my line of sight from a reasonable distance is one thing, having her within arms length is entirely different.
It’s too tempting to give in to my goddamn feelings and it’s a constant battle to keep myself in check. I can smell her sweet scent, I can see all the freckles on her exposed skin, and I can make out the pretty shades of red in her hair.
All of this further plays into the contradiction of my position with her. I want her, but need to do the right thing more. Some days I can’t figure out if I’m being a giant pussy or a loyal bastard. I swear those are the days when I have both the devil and angel fist-fighting. Either way, I’m stuck. Stuck between going after what I want and what I can’t have.
My brother huffs out an annoyed sigh when I still don’t answer him. He elbows past me to take a seat leaving two empty spots. “You need to fucking get it together,” he whisper growls as he goes. And yes, if anyone can whisper and growl at the same time, it’s him. Prick.
“Are you going to join us, C?” my sister asks with a hopeful look on her face, ignoring our brother. I know she heard him even if he attempted to be quiet about it.
I shift my face forward when I feel Sloane looking at me. I collide with whiskey eyes that burn into me with the same searing sharpness I feel when I swallow down the brown liquor her honey eyes remind me of.
There’s an unmistakable question in her irises that I can’t ignore. Want me to stay, gorgeous girl? It’s like my heart is auditioning for a rock band with how loud it’s beating as I stare back at her. It’s drowning out every other noise in the busy caf as whole minutes tick by. I could look at her for hours. Fuck, she’s pretty.
“Not likely,” our brother mumbles, and I feel like karate-chopping him in the throat for opening his big mouth.
The second he spoke I lost her eyes. Fucker. I pull out the chair next to him and sit just to prove him wrong. The sound of dragging the metal chair across the floor has her eyes snapping back up to mine. I’m greedy and refuse to break eye contact with her while I sink into my chair. The view’s too fucking beautiful to look away.
I’m rewarded with the faintest smile and her eyelids flutter from across the table. Fuck me. It’s enough for the boiling blood in my body to travel south, breaking speed limits as I feel my dick chub up within the five seconds it”s taken me to sit down.
Not only is she turning me the hell on by just existing but I also feel sweat break out over my forehead, on the backside of my neck, and down my spine. I feel twitchy. If she looks at me one more time I might do something stupid like reach across this table and make more than just those eyes flutter. “Do it,” I hear the devil whisper in my ear and I might as well be hallucinating at this point since I’ve been holding my breath and not taking any oxygen while all available blood in my system is in my dick.
“There isn’t a knife sharp enough in this cafeteria that could cut through the sexual tension happening between you two. I don’t know how the hell you stay away from her, Chase. Especially with those, “fuck me eyes.” Monroe says from the other side of me, complete with a whistle to drive home his point. I hadn’t even realized he sat down.
She looks caught off guard and turns away from me, redirecting her attention from me to Monroe.
When his words finally register, I glare at him while clenching my hands on either side of my tray. His stupid comment sends her pretty eyes wide. Did he really just say that?
Sitting with her here was a giant fucking mistake. I never want to embarrass her again. I did that at a tourney game and I felt like a gigantic asshole for not acknowledging her when she waved at me. My fucking gloves felt like they were full of rocks and superglued to my sides. She looked embarrassed as hell then and has the same uncomfortable look on her face now. Although now, that quickly disappears and she looks fierce as hell as her eyebrows push together and those lips thin into a straight line across her stern-looking face.
”Did ya forget your manners over break, Monroe Esposito? Or did ya mama not teach ya any?” She scolds him with her southern accent hanging heavy on every word. I have to hold back a smile that threatens to break out over my face. She’s got this, she doesn’t need anyone fighting her battles, but hell do I want to.
He laughs it off and stuffs his mouth with pasta. He doesn’t take anything seriously and more than likely just assumes he’s saying what everyone is thinking.
“Just stating the obvious, sweetheart,” he says, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “Count me in to watch when he finally gives in to those eyes of yours,” he says to her while chin pointing to me. He’s got a smug smile on his face and won’t stop wiggling his eyebrows. It’s fucking obnoxious.
I swear, I’m about to blow when Jake smacks him on the back of his head before stating, “You’re being an ass. Cut the shit.”
I continue to grip the edges of the tray so hard that the ceramic plate rattles on the crappy piece of plastic. I don’t like him talking about her like that or envisioning her in a sexual way. I don’t want anyone to think of her like that. The more I think about it, the fucking angrier I get. I feel like knocking him out, which is the exact opposite of how I usually treat my boys. I’m that fucking pissed.
“Fucking drop it. And apologize for being such a dumbass,” I raise my voice and spit my words at him through gritted teeth.
“The only dumbass around here is going to be you when someone else steals your girl right from under you,” he says with a look on his face that has me jumping out of my seat at the fucking thought of her being with anyone else. I’m pissed off at myself for giving in and staying, and with Monroe for being such a shithead. He’s way outta line.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jake snaps and Monroe remains unphased per fucking usual.
“You took shit too far, you owe Red an apology. Stop being a dick,” Max challenges him and A nods in agreement. He doesn’t need to use his words, his face says it all. I appreciate it. We’re family. Brothers. Teammates. Linemen. But Monroe fucked up. He needs to apologize. And then I need to get the fuck outta here.
“Did ya’ll get hit in the head too much at practice today? What on earth has gotten into you boys? Feel free to keep at it, but I’m going to go enjoy my supper elsewhere. Evie, honey, I’ll see you at home,” Sloane says and picks up her things to leave.
I don’t want her to go but I also don’t want her to stay if she’s uncomfortable. Fuck him for doing this to her. I shouldn’t have sat down so close to her. That damn angel shakes her head in agreement. I shouldn’t have been so obvious about it.
I’ve been wasting away after weeks of not seeing her and got lost looking at her.
Monroe gently grabs her arm to stop her, “I’m sorry to have upset you, Red. I was just trying to nudge him towards you,” he says and smiles at her with a look that gets him whatever he wants from whoever he wants.
She turns and looks down at his hand on her, shakes it off, and responds with her head held high “Bless your heart darlin’ but your meddlin’ isn’t needed. I don’t need a man who needs nudgin’,” she meets my gaze, which tells me so many things without any words.
I take one last long look at her, not giving a single fuck who notices. I want you so fucking bad, I just can’t have you. I say to myself and wish the words would jump from my head to hers as I try to silently spill my guts. So she’d understand. So she’d know why I act this way with her.
She’s playing with the feather necklace she always wears. She’s clutching the pendant in her fist as she stares back. Don’t look at me like that gorgeous, I can’t take it.
“I told you guys, a chain saw wouldn’t get through the tension between these two.” Jake smacks Monroe across the back of his head again while the rest of the team goes back to their dinner. I nod my chin to her, acknowledging her exit. She doesn’t so much as spare me another damn glance.
“I’m going to check on her, give me a few minutes,” my sister says while she stands up. She places her hand on Max’s shoulder keeping him in place. He frowns up at her but she’s not looking at him. Instead, she’s glaring at me. “You really should be the one going after her right now,” she says with an icy tone before walking off. Max’s intense frown is now burning into me and I shake my head.
“You should be pissed at him, he started this shit. Not me,” I tell him and cross my arms over my chest.
“And you should be the one to fucking make it right,” Max says to me and I roll my eyes. He doesn’t understand. None of them do. I’m not good enough for her. Don’t they see that? Isn’t it obvious to them?
My appetite is long gone and there’s no fucking point of sitting here any longer. I need to get the hell out of here. I slide my tray into the middle of the table, someone will eat my uneaten food.
“Where the hell are you going now?” A says when I stand up.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him. I’m angry with Monroe, agitated that she left embarrassed, and aggravated with myself that I put myself in this goddamn position.
I walk away toward the exit. I need to run this out. My body is screaming at me to move faster and farther away. I feel itchy all over. I need to feel something else. Anything but this goddamn anxiety. I need the pain. I need to scratch it all away.
I see her and B sitting by the window overlooking campus and our eyes lock over my sister’s shoulder. The tension drains from my body the longer I stare. Those honey colored eyes soothing the burn I feel in my throat all the way down to the pit of my stomach.
B’s back is to me and it’s not lost on me that she’s the wall between us. A wall I built that’s full of cemented bricks stacked high. The angel on my shoulder is all too proud of herself for engraving every reason why I need to stay away from those bricks. I swear she’s smirking as she adjusts her halo.
I push the door open and start to jog. I can’t help but smile when the devil excitedly whispers, “she’s bbbbbaaaacccckkk.” With each step I take my smile grows knowing I’ll be seeing her again and can get my hits of her. Small daily doses to keep the vow I made to myself in place. I can’t break my promise, I can’t have the girl of my dreams, I can’t hurt my sister again; but I can keep watching.