Tricky Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #1)

11. CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11

Haz

‘I made first team!’

Pushing off the wall of Portia House, I allow a smile to spread over my lips as Tilda bounces towards me, arms wide for a hug.

She hops into my arms, surprising the breath from me.

Only for a second.

Then I’m squeezing her hard, eyes drifting closed, making the most of this little gift.

My clit does that twitching thing, and I grunt as I set her back on her feet.

‘Also—’ She reaches out and hits me like she had in her bedroom. ‘Your dick housemate was there, making my life hell. Fucking tripped me up!’ Holding up a wrist, she twists it gingerly. ‘My stick hit it weird. Hurts like hell.’

I take her wrist into my grasp, rubbing my thumb over it. ‘This is turning into a habit.’

‘So’s Nic being an asshole,’ she counters. ‘Like, what’s her actual problem? I’ve never even spoke to her before!’

I frown because I honest to God don’t know. She can make a problem, a vendetta, out of everything. Maybe Tilda reminds her of an ex-girlfriend she hates, or maybe she just doesn’t like the way she styles her hair. Who fucking knows. Might become a problem though. I’m getting attached to this pretty thing.

‘She really hurt you?’

Tilda scoffs. ‘Yeah. Un-fucking-called for.’

Humming, I take her wrist and raise it to my mouth. Her eyebrows lift as I kiss it, allowing my lips to part slightly, letting her feel my breath and the barest tip of my tongue.

‘Careful,’ she breathes.

‘Careful of what?’

‘My wrists. It’s kind of a thing.’

I smile around her skin, delighted with this nugget of info. ‘Really? Sensitive spot, huh?’

She hums, high and squeaky, and pulls her wrist away.

‘Oh, I am so going to remember that.’

‘Of course you are. Also, I got us some stuff.’ Swinging her bag off her back, she pulls out a bottle of Cherry Sourz. ‘We can share it on the way. Since I’m celebrating and all.’

‘Didn’t make the team last year?’

She shakes her head, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a sip. Cherries. I’m going to forever associate that smell with her.

‘Injury. Probably could have made third team or something, but fuck that. First or nothing.’

I smile, impressed. My girl has teeth. ‘You’re that good then?’

‘Hockey’s my thing. Always has been. It makes me…aggressive. Sports have always done that.’

‘That’s hot. I’ll have to come watch you at Varsity. Do you know how Nic did?’

‘Yeah, you will.’ She passes me the bottle. ‘And no. You knew she was going to be there, didn’t you?’

‘Yup.’

She shoves me gently. ‘Dick.’

‘Dick you’re going on a date with.’ I circle my arm around her shoulders.

‘Not a date, so don’t be expecting anything.’

I chuckle, squeezing her reassuringly. ‘I’m not. Don’t worry. But just in case you change your mind, I’m totally wearing my dick tonight.’

She spits out Cherry Sourz, another one of those squeaks escaping her. ‘Dude! Warning, please. That’s so vulgar.’

‘Oh, and the real thing’s not?’

She waves me away. ‘Just surprises me, that’s all. I thought those things were purely for the bedroom.’

‘Maybe for some. Kinda makes me feel complete. Probably like you wearing makeup.’

‘Huh.’ She nods. ‘Makes sense.’

Five minutes later, we’re pulling up to Vipers, a stucco building painted red with black trim and a hundred years’ worth of graffiti adorning it.

‘These guys better be good,’ Tilda says.

‘If you like depression rock and scary as fuck masks, they’re a winner.’

‘Sweet. Just my thing. How much was my ticket?’

‘Irrelevant.’

She gives me a look. ‘Not to me.’

‘I invited you on this non-date. I pay. Them’s the rules.’

She sighs. ‘Alright. I’ll buy you a drink then.’

Fat chance, but I don’t argue. I get our tickets swiped and we head to the cloakroom. I’m not wearing a coat but Tilda’s in some thick, fur-trimmed thing like it’s midwinter already.

It’s cute, but not as cute as the t-shirt dress she wears beneath it.

My breathing goes shallow as she takes my hand and leads me through the crowd to the bar.

It’s busy there but she manages to snake her way to the front. A guy knocks into her as he turns with hands full of drinks, almost making her stumble. I grab hold of her, boxing her in from behind so no other eejit can do the same.

Her body’s hot, her ass feeling so good against my strap. I wonder if she can feel it.

Leaning down, I put my lips to her ear. ‘You know how wrists are your soft spot?’

She half turns. ‘Mm?’

‘Fishnets are mine.’

Tilda looks down at her legs then back to me. ‘Oops.’

I shake my head. Gonna be the death of me, I swear.

I wait until she’s reaching for her purse to swipe my card on the reader. She whirls round, glaring at me. Sending her a wink, I snake my arms past her to take our drinks.

‘I’ll get you back for that.’

‘Look forward to it.’

She looks good under the purple lighting. She finds us a spot right in front of the stage, shouldering her way through everyone else. Maybe I can envision her out on the hockey field, thwacking everyone with that stick of hers.

Especially Nic.

Kinda wish I’d been there for that little altercation. Not sure I wouldn’t have landed Nic on her ass for it though. I don’t care what her deal is, I know Tilda is one hundred percent undeserving of her wrath.

She rests against the stage railing as we wait for the music. I take the pendants around her neck into my hands, holding them up to the coloured lights to get a better look. She has a tiny vial of what looks like blood around her throat, as well as a death’s-head hawkmoth.

The first time I’ve seen her arms bare, she’s almost got as many tattoos as Elly on them. I take her hips, pulling her against me. ‘You’re like a literal piece of art.’

She smiles with delight, fiddling with the straw in her glass. ‘I wish my exes would have said anything close to that.’

‘Told you, I’d rock your world more than they ever could.’

‘I’m starting to believe it,’ she laughs.

The band comes on then and she turns back around, ass grazing my crotch. I keep my hands on her hips, loose enough that she can wriggle out if she wants to. But she doesn’t, keeping her eyes on the stage as she bops along with the masked musicians.

I love a girl who can lose herself in music. I might as well not be here. She’s only got eyes for them, slowly gyrating her hips in that intoxicating way girls have.

Fuck, she’s hot. And I’m so adding this to the table later. Take fucking that Elly. I give a brief thought to how she’s getting on at home. Clingy bitch. Can’t go a month without visiting those baby siblings of hers.

Then all thoughts of Elly are whipped away when Tilda looks over her shoulder at me, a wholly approving smile stretching those deep-painted lips.

‘Told ya you’d like them,’ I shout to her over the music.

She nods, spinning back round to watch the end of the first set.

We leave to get more drinks during the break, topping them up surreptitiously with those Sourz of hers. She’s got a Coke, Sambuca, cherry combo going on. She makes me taste it, smiling in surprise when I nod my approval.

‘You like aniseed?’

‘One of only two who do, apparently.’

That seems to get me points.

We take a breather in a booth, one in full view of the stage in case we decide to stay here.

I slide my glass between my hands on the table. ‘So, what do you think? Northbound Wolves?’

‘Good.’ She nods. ‘Super good. Reckon they’ll make it big after graduation.’

‘Those from Hazelhurst usually do.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m here.’ She watches the stage where the band are fiddling with their equipment. ‘Still dodge though, this place.’

‘Now, now, we don’t talk about that,’ I say with a grin. It’s kind of an open secret that the place is owned by a Mob family. The daughter of whom being a student here. Super shifty, that one. Very popular amongst the ladies. Nic’s sort of friends with her.

We basically just shut up to put up here, raking in the benefits once we’ve graduated and every company in the country wants us working for them.

‘What are your grand plans?’ I ask Tilda.

She shrugs. ‘Something. Not decided yet. Hoping something will jump out at me. Something creative, though. Somewhere where I can pretend. Or make other things pretend.’

‘Losing me here.’

‘Like filmmaking,’ she explains. ‘Or screenwriting. Maybe even animation? I just want to make things up.’

I regard her closely, trying to deduce the meaning behind all that. ‘I’m gonna unpick that one day. You running from something?’

She flashes me a smile. ‘Aren’t we all? Telling me you haven’t fucked anything up before?’

‘Just my whole family.’ I grin back.

‘Hmm. I’m gonna be unpicking that later too.’ She glances at the stage again. ‘But I don’t wanna be talking about family right now.’

‘What would you rather talk about?’ I straighten up, affecting outrage. ‘Kinda rude you’ve not even asked me how big my dick is yet.’

Her eyes meet mine again, that brief emptiness in them gone. ‘I’ve already seen it, remember?’

‘Not this one.’

‘Alright. I bite. How impressive is it?’

Putting my arm around the back of the booth, I slide over to her. ‘Can cop a feel if you want.’

I’m fully expecting her to push me away, to call me vulgar and tell me to stop. But she doesn’t. She puts her drink down, turning on the bench to face me.

‘Go on then.’

I hesitate. ‘Really?’

‘Yep. Really.’ She’s smiling all weird, clearly drunk and maybe about to call my bluff.

But I’m not about to let her do that.

Despite facing the stage and half of Hazelhurst who’ve turned out to watch their favourite student band, the table and dim lighting has us well covered.

Covered enough to unzip my trousers and guide her hand inside.

I hold my breath, unable to breathe even if I wanted to. Her eyes are still on mine, but they bounce to my crotch as her fingers curl around the dildo.

‘Ridged,’ she murmurs.

My throat bobs. ‘For your pleasure.’

She tilts her head. ‘Purple?’

‘Mm-hm.’

Glancing back up, she smiles. ‘My favourite colour.’

‘Yeah, I knew that.’

Her breath gusts over my face as she laughs. ‘Liar.’

Almost unconsciously, she begins pumping the shaft with that little hand of hers. My eyelids grow heavy each time the base pushes against my clit.

I’m getting wet. I can feel it, that heaviness gathering low in my gut.

Wet for this girl, and this girl only.

It occurs to me that I’ve not even glanced at another since Halloween. Granted, that’s not been that long, but I’ve been to the gym and to Vipers since. I’ve had looks, some obvious come ons. And none of it touched me.

But Tilda…

She pushes a bit too hard and my whole cunt clenches, making me groan.

In the next breath I have her up against the back of the booth, her wandering hand gripped hard in mine. ‘Carry on and I’ll be pushing you down on this bench and fucking you in front of everyone.’

She bites her lip to stop a grin. ‘I’m almost drunk enough to let you.’ She puts her hand on my chest. ‘Almost.’

I release a breath as I zip myself back up.

Yep, this girl is going to be the death of me.