Chapter 6
I know it’s wrong. Everything about this is fucked up, but I can’t help myself. She’s ignoring me. She’s driving me crazy. How can she not see it? I’m doing this because she’s forcing my hand. She’s making me. Every time she turns her back, every time she pretends I’m not there... it eats at me.
That’s why I’m here now.
I push the window open, slow and careful, not making too much noise. I shouldn’t be here at her mother’s house. I know it. But when I found out from Maya that Remy went home, I had to make sure she was okay. I had to.
Breaking into her house? Maybe that’s a step too far. But it’s not like I’m going to hurt her. I just need to see her. To know she’s alright. Fuck, I’m so far gone for her. Caleb gave me her student details and thank God he did. Otherwise, how the hell would I even know where she lives? I slip through the window, landing softly on the floor.
Her room’s cozy. Nightlights, books everywhere, posters covering the walls. The little things that make it her. I like this. I like seeing her world, her mess. Sweaters tossed on the floor, a couple of shoes kicked to the corner. It’s so... her. Carefree. Real.
Then I see her.
She’s lying on the bed, tangled in her blankets. Her curls spill across the pillow, her face soft and peaceful. It hits me how fucking beautiful she is, even like this, vulnerable and asleep. Her lips are parted slightly, and I wonder what she dreams about.
I step closer. There’s a nightstand next to her bed. Her phone, the one I gave her, is sitting right there, along with a pair of glasses. I pick them up, turning them over in my hand. Jesus, she’s really blind without these, huh?
She shifts in her sleep, and my heart nearly stops. But she doesn’t wake. I should leave now. I came to check on her, and she’s fine. But I don’t move. My eyes roam lower, tracing the curve of her neck, the way her blanket slips just enough to reveal her bare shoulder.
Fuck me.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m pulling the blanket down further. Slowly. I want to see her. Just a little more.
And there she is.
Remy, in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. Her smooth back, her thighs... I groan softly under my breath. I can’t help it. She’s beautiful. Just fucking perfect. My fingers move on their own, tracing the dimples on the back of her thighs. She shifts again, and I freeze, but she doesn’t wake up.
I lean in, kissing her skin. Just a quick taste, I tell myself. Just one. But it’s not enough. I need more.
Her t-shirt rides up as I lift it higher, exposing more of her, and fuck, she smells so damn good. She moves, rolling onto her back, and I can’t believe my luck. Now, I can see everything —her soft breasts, her parted legs, the way she looks so damn innocent.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be doing this.
But I am.
I lean in, my lips brushing against her skin, and before I know it, I’m tasting her, my tongue tracing over her inner thigh, getting closer. She whimpers in her sleep.
God, that sound makes me even harder. I want more. I need to taste her. Really taste her.
I spread her legs wider and pull her underwear to the side, my hands shaking as I lower my mouth to her pussy. She’s wet. So fucking wet. And I lose it. I start licking her, deeper, bolder, and she moans. It’s soft at first, but it builds, and then her eyes snap open.
She wakes up, startled, but I hold her down, my hand pressing gently on her stomach. “Stay still,” I whisper, my voice thick with need. She tries to fight me, tugging at my hair, but I can feel how wet she is. She’s enjoying this as much as I am.
“Stop,” she gasps, but her hips are grinding against my tongue. I know she doesn’t mean it. She wants this. She fucking loves this.
I suck on two fingers and thrust them in before she even has a chance to fight it. God, she’s tight. So warm, so wet.
She moans, that little sound she makes, the one that drives me wild.
“Zane,” she whimpers.
I’m hard as a fucking rock as I curl my fingers, hitting that spot from the inside, and I can feel her start to fall apart. Her hands reach for me, but then they slip away, like she’s too far gone to fight it.
“Tell me to stop,” I say, my voice low, leaning in as I pull her clit into my mouth. I can feel her trying to resist, her body trembling beneath me.
She lets out this tiny cry, “Please.”
“Quiet, little slut,” I growl, licking harder, faster. I know exactly how to push her over the edge, and when I do, she shatters. Her whole body tightens around my fingers, and I keep going, licking, sucking, until she’s completely spent, lying there, motionless.
I lean over her, catching my breath. Tears streak her cheeks, and I kiss her, tasting the salt.
“Zane,” she whispers, her lips soft under mine.
“Shh,” I tell her, biting down on her lower lip, tugging. “It’s my turn.”
I stand up, spin her around, and drag her to the edge of the bed. My black sweatpants drop, and I’m hard, ready. I slap her ass, watching the red mark I leave behind, and I smirk.
“I’m gonna mark you,” I tell her, my voice thick. I pull off my shirt and drop it to the ground.
She doesn’t say a word, just stays there, looking over her shoulder with those big hazel eyes. Like she’s waiting for me to decide what happens next.
I pump my cock in my hand, then with rough tugs, I come all over her back and ass, watching the way my cum glistens on her skin.
She looks back at me, unsure. Her eyes are wide, uncertain, but there’s something else there, too. Trust. Or maybe she’s just too damn confused to know what to do with it.
“I thought you were gonna fuck me.”
I smirk. “Not tonight, baby. Next time.”
I grab my shirt off the floor and wipe her down, my eyes following every curve of her body. She watches me, dragging her gaze over my chest, my abs, the tattoos inked across my skin.
“You have tattoos,” she says, voice soft, almost surprised.
I nod, grinning as I sit down next to her. “Yeah.”
She blinks up at me, eyes wide, and then she says it. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I scoff. “Stop fighting this, Remy. You want this.” My hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer. I expect her to shove me away. But instead, she melts into me, her body soft against mine.
“Zane...” she whispers again.
“Yeah, baby?”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice cracks, and I freeze for a second, not expecting that.
“I want you ,” I tell her honestly. It’s the only thing I can think to say. I’m not sure what else there is anymore.
She lets out a laugh, but it’s not the kind of laugh that makes me feel good. It’s hollow, sad, and I tense up, not sure what to do. If she starts crying... fuck, I wouldn’t know what to do with that.
“Why are you home?” I ask, changing the subject, trying to steer this somewhere else.
“My mom’s not feeling good,” she says softly, the words barely making it out.
“Not feeling good?” I ask, rubbing her back, trying to be comforting even though I don’t know how to be.
“Exhaustion,” she whispers. “She’s working all these long hours at the hospital, killing herself just to make sure I get through school, even with the scholarship, it’s still a financial burden.”
I nod, not knowing what to say. I should do something, but I don’t know what. Instead, I just hold her. I hold her until her breathing slows down, until she’s calm again.
“How’d your test go?” I ask, trying to bring her back.
“I passed.” She says it like it doesn’t matter, like she can’t even celebrate it.
I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me, and then I kiss her, slow, deliberate. “Congratulations, baby. You’re smart as hell.”
She gives me this look, one I can’t figure out, and then she pulls away, slipping back under the blankets. “You should go.”
I sit there for a second, trying to understand what the hell just happened. “You sure?”
She nods. “I have a boyfriend, Zane. I love him.”
I scoff, leaning back. “I don’t care about him.”
“You should,” she says, eyes meeting mine. “I should.”
She pulls the blankets tighter around herself, dismissing me like I’m nothing. I stand, my jaw tight, looking around her room. I’ll be back. I’m not done with her, not by a long shot.
“Bye, baby. Sleep tight.” I keep my voice casual, not giving her anything to latch onto.
“Bye, Zane,” she says, so soft I almost don’t hear it.
I walk out, shutting the door behind me, knowing I’ll be back. She may not realize it yet, but this isn’t over. Not even close.
Coach Jacobs’ voice breaks through my thoughts, sharp as hell. “Coburn! Focus up!”
I blink, dragging my gaze away from the empty part of the rink I’d been staring at, where I could swear I saw her standing in my head— Remy. That damn look she gives me, like I’m nothing but trouble. Trouble she likes.
I shake it off. I’m supposed to be running practice, not daydreaming about her. My hands tighten on the stick as I nod at Coach. “Yeah, I got it.”
His stare lingers a second longer. He doesn’t need to say more. He knows I’ve been off. I know it too. And I hate it because he’s right. I’m the captain. I shouldn’t be distracted by… her.
We’ve got an away game against Western University this weekend. The Blackridge Ravens are the reigning champs, but Western always plays dirty. Real scrappy team. But I haven’t been thinking about strategy. I’ve been thinking about Remy. About the way she said my name last time we hooked up. About how much I want to hear her say it again, breathless and mine.
“Alright, bring it in!” I yell out, trying to get my head back in the game. The rest of the team skates over, lining up around me. We go over the plays for a while, but I’m still distracted. I can’t stop thinking about her.
We finally wrap up and hit the locker room. I strip out of my sweaty gear, feeling the weight of Caleb’s stare.
“Zane,” Caleb says, leaning against the lockers, his arms crossed. “You loving the chase, man? We’ve got the NHL draft coming up. We need to focus.” Caleb warns, like he’s some fucking relationship expert all of a sudden.
“Don’t start sounding like my dad,” I snap, but he’s right. I don’t even know why I’m so caught up with her. This isn’t who I am. I don’t get tied down. I don’t do relationships. I do what I want and move on. But with Remy… fuck, I just want more.
Caleb doesn’t press the issue. We head back to the ice to run some drills, getting our heads back into the game. I push myself harder, but the image of her keeps creeping in. The way she looked the last time I saw her, all soft and flushed, her lips swollen from my kisses. I want to own that. All of her.
When we finish, the guys talk about getting food and hitting up a bar later, but I’m already thinking about seeing her. I need to. No, I have to.
“I’m out,” I tell Caleb, grabbing my bag. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. I don’t need another lecture.
I head back to my place, shower fast, and throw on some jeans and a black hoodie. My thoughts are already on Remy. I know exactly where she’ll be. She’s a creature of habit—always at the library this time of day. She likes the quiet. I’ve seen her there, head buried in her textbooks, looking all serious and focused. It’s fucking cute as hell, how into her studies she is.
If she’s not at the library, I’ll check her dorm. And if not there, her house. One way or another, I’m seeing her tonight.
I head to the library first. Sure enough, she’s there. But she’s sitting in a different spot this time, in the back corner. Trying to hide, maybe? Tough luck because I’m here.
I walk over, drop my bag on the table, and sit down in front of her. She doesn’t even look up, just keeps her head down, flipping through some textbook like I don’t exist.
“You switch tables on me?” I ask, leaning back in the chair, eyes locked on her.
She sighs, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine. Those hazel eyes. Fuck, I could get lost in them.
“Leave me alone, Zane,” she says, voice cold as ice.
I grin. “Don’t think I can.”
She glares at me, like she’s annoyed, but I see the way her lips press together, like she’s trying not to let them quirk up. She’s pissed, sure, but I know she likes it when I push her.
I watch her. She’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful it drives me insane. Her hair is pulled back in this messy bun, strands falling loose, and she’s wearing these glasses that make her look like she’s ready to scold me for being a distraction. It’s sexy as hell. And her lips… those lips. I want to kiss them, bite them, make her moan.
“What do you want?” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “You.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Of course.”
I just stare at her, soaking her in. She’s the kind of girl that makes you want things you didn’t even know you wanted. Truthfully, I just need her underneath me, her nails dragging down my back, her body arching into mine, crying out my name.
“You’re staring,” she says, her voice softer now, like she’s losing her edge. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, and I can tell she’s feeling it too. The pull between us. It’s always there.
“Yeah, I am,” I admit, not bothering to hide it. “Because you’re fucking gorgeous.”
Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, pretending to focus on her book again. But she’s not fooling anyone.
“You should go,” she says, but there’s no bite in her voice. Just uncertainty.
“I don’t want to.”
She meets my eyes again, and for a second, I see something flicker there. Something that tells me she wants this as much as I do. But then she shuts it down, shaking her head.
“This… whatever this is, Zane, it can’t happen,” she whispers.
“Why not?”
“Because…” She hesitates, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her book. “I have a boyfriend.”
I laugh, a harsh sound that makes her flinch. “You mean that prick, Colin?”
She scowls at me. “How do you know his name?”
“I know everything little slut.”
“ Don’t call me that,” she hisses, a flash of hurt in her eyes.
“You’re sexy when you’re annoyed. Anyway, I’m not here to discuss your boring nerd.”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Whatever. Like I told you that night, I don’t care about him.”
“Like I told you that night, you should.”
“He’s not here, but I am.” I lean closer, my voice low. “And we both know you want this.”
She bites her lip, and I can see her mind racing. She’s fighting herself. Fighting this. But I know I’m right. I can see it in the way her body reacts to me, the way her breath hitches when I’m close.
“I’m serious, Zane,” she says, her voice shaking a little. “This isn’t… we can’t.”
I reach across the table, my fingers brushing against hers. She doesn’t pull away. “We already did.”
She closes her eyes like she’s trying to block it out, but she can’t. I know she’s thinking about the last time. How good it was. How fucking right it felt.
“Stop,” she whispers.
I squeeze her hand gently. “I can’t.”
Her eyes snap open, locking with mine, and I see it. The want. The need. The same shit that’s been eating at me for days. Weeks.
“Zane, please…” She sounds desperate now like she’s begging me to let her go. But I won’t.
“I’m not walking away from this,” I say, voice firm. “From us.”
“There is no us,” she argues, but even she doesn’t believe that anymore.
“There will be.”
She stands up suddenly, grabbing her bag and shoving her books inside. “I need to go.”
I stay seated, watching her, waiting. She’s not really leaving. She can’t. Not until we’ve figured this out.
But when she heads for the door, I feel that familiar surge of possessiveness rise in my chest. I stand up, grabbing her arm before she can slip away.
“Remy,” I say, voice low but commanding. “Don’t walk away from me.”
Her hazel eyes widen, and she swallows hard. “Let me go, Zane.”
“No.”
She tries to pull free, but I don’t budge. I’m not letting her walk out of my life. Not when I’ve just decided I want her for good.
I step closer, towering over her, and I can see her resolve crumbling.
“You’re mine,” I say, my voice dark with conviction.
She looks up at me, her breathing uneven. “I… I can’t.”
“You will,” I tell her, then lean down and press my lips to hers. It’s not gentle. It’s rough, needy, and fucking perfect.
She gasps against my mouth but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she kisses me back just as hard, like she’s been waiting for this. For me.
I break the kiss, my forehead resting against hers as I breathe out, “Now tell me you don’t want this.”
She doesn’t say a damn word. She just pushes me away and leaves.
I let her.
Sooner or later, she will see that me and her are inevitable.
With her gone, I make my way back to my house. Funny how I only study when I am around her.
I have a pounding at the back of my skull as I walk into the house. I have barely sat down when my phone begins to ring.
Caleb.
“Coach has the picks for the team. Wants us to handle it,” his voice crackles through the line.
I grunt, pacing in my room. The mansion is quiet. Too quiet. “You handle it. Make sure they’ve fulfilled all their requirements before they can join the brotherhood.”
“You in the house?” Caleb asks.
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’m sick of your mood, man. I got a gift for you. Might help you get your head straight.”
I frown. “What gift?”
There’s a knock on the door.
“Enjoy,” Caleb says, and hangs up.
I roll my eyes, walking downstairs, already annoyed at whatever dumb shit he’s set up. I reach the door and swing it open. Two girls stand there, giggling. One’s blowing bubblegum, her lips slick and shiny. The other’s already peeling off her jacket, revealing the tiniest bra I’ve ever seen. They’re from Zeta Theta, a sorority known for sending girls as “gifts” to the hockey team when we win a big game.
“Heard you were lonely,” the bubblegum girl says with a wink.
“I’m not in the mood,” I say, stepping aside, thinking they’d get the hint and leave.
But the other one, the one peeling off her bra, walks right past me like she owns the place, tossing her jacket onto the floor.
“Don’t worry, Coburn,” she says, her voice dripping with suggestion, “we’ll do all the work.”
I grit my teeth. “What part of ‘not in the mood’ don’t you understand?”
Bubblegum girl laughs and steps closer, her fingers grazing my arm. “Come on, Zane. We know how to make it better.”
I watch as the other one saunters over to the living room, plopping herself on the couch, legs spread, her skirt riding up so high I can see the lace of her panties. She stretches, like she’s settling in for the night.
“This isn’t happening.” My voice is hard. “Get out.”
Bubblegum girl pouts, stepping even closer. “You don’t want to have a little fun? We heard you like to play rough.”
I stare her down, but she just smiles, daring me. Her fingers reach for the hem of her top, and she pulls it off in one quick motion. Now she’s standing there in nothing but her short skirt and a smirk.
I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “I’m not interested in whatever the fuck this is. Leave.”
“We’re not leaving,” the girl on the couch says. She’s leaning back now, her legs wide open, flashing everything she’s got.
I sigh, closing the door behind me. It’s going to take more than words to get them out, clearly.
“You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be,” I mutter.
Bubblegum girl giggles. “That’s the idea, Zane.”
“Yeah?” I step toward her, my hand gripping her wrist, but not too tight. “I said get the fuck out.”
She stares up at me, wide-eyed for a second, before her lips curl into a smile again. “Or what?”
I tighten my grip just enough to make a point. “Or you’ll regret staying.”
Her eyes darken, and she bites her lip, like she’s turned on by the threat. She leans in, lips almost brushing my ear. “Make me regret it, Coburn.”
God, I hate this. Every part of me hates this game. Caleb thought this would fix my mood? He’s losing his damn mind.
I yank my hand away and step back. “You’re both fucking insane.”
The girl on the couch gives me a lazy smile. “Caleb said you were a little intense.”
I glare at her. “Caleb’s an idiot.”
Bubblegum girl wraps her arms around my neck. I let her. Just for a second. Because I know the faster I play along, the faster they’ll leave.
But as she presses against me, all I can think about is Remy. How she smells like vanilla and coconut, not this cheap perfume. How she looks when she’s reading, those glasses perched on her nose. The way she bites her lip when she’s focused. Fuck, even the way she pushes me away every time I get too close. It drives me insane, but it’s real.
This? This is just a distraction. A fucking pathetic one.
I push bubblegum girl off me, harder than I intended. She stumbles back, her eyes going wide in surprise.
“Get. Out,” I say, my voice low and dangerous now.
The girl on the couch finally stands, adjusting her skirt like she wasn’t just flashing me everything she’s got. She grabs her bra from the floor, and without another word, they both walk toward the door.
Bubblegum girl hesitates, looking back over her shoulder. “You sure? Last chance, Coburn.”
I just stare at her, jaw clenched, until she huffs and follows her friend out the door.
As soon as they’re gone, I slam the door shut and lean against it, exhaling.
Caleb’s an idiot.