16. king
CHAPTER 16
KING
I DON'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING
I caved and went to her show but that was the last time I’d willingly put myself in the same path as Willow Pruitt. That was it. I only had one more year until the draft and then I would never see her again.
Until she walked into my class.
And then—fine. I’d switch classes. I wouldn’t be so close to her, smell her body butter, watch her tap her pen against the desk. Feel those uncomfortable urges whenever she was close enough to touch.
Until Elijah fucking Contractor.
Ruthless. The biggest shitheel on the hockey team. Not a single Roman liked Elijah. He had a professional gift of pissing people off, with a longer rap sheet than almost anyone I knew. I could name a dozen teammates who’d gotten in serious trouble for trying to beat the shit out of him after he started the fight himself.
A shitheel I never bothered to acknowledge until he got too comfortable talking to Willow.
As if he could talk to her like that.
Walking out of class, it felt like barbed wire tightened its hold around my neck. I was goddamn irritated I couldn't do anything to him because the only one with a bigger rap sheet was me. I couldn’t forget that. I couldn't budge from my hard-earned good behavior and risk my spot on the team.
"King!"
Fuck.
Willow hurried to me, textbooks in hand.
"Look, I understand it didn’t—" She stopped herself. "We’ll have to see each other at the training center. Things should be better. We can pretend like nothing happened. We can be normal about this."
I grunted. Nothing about this was normal.
Willow turned around and so did I but before she walked too far, I clearly heard her mumble under her breath. "Doesn’t matter. You’re switching classes."
Changing classes after that?
I glanced back. "Willow!"
It wasn’t a nice call to get her attention. No. I barked her name, twisted up inside with every nice smile she offered Elijah Contractor.
" What? "
The hallway was chock-full of students, but they parted for me as I strode up to her. There was a question I couldn’t keep down. As much as I tried to wrestle it away, it needed to be said.
"Do you like him?"
A high school question— do you like him? Or do you like-like him? But the embarrassment didn’t come. I needed to know. It ate away at me while Willow frowned, genuinely confused.
"Like who?"
"Elijah Contractor. Ruthless. The hockey player."
"What? Why?"
"It’s a yes or no question."
"Okay. I’ll answer a question with a question. What does that have to do with anything we’re talking about?"
For everybody else, that would’ve been such an easy answer. Even Elijah’s twin sister, Zariah, complained about him.
Was Willow avoiding the question? Did she like him? Like that?
Did she like how he looked? He usually had scrapes from a brawl but nothing like the scars I had. Did she like his jokes? Did it feel like she couldn’t breathe when he was close? Did she have to stop inclining her body towards him whenever they were near each other?
"This class works best for my schedule," I decided.
" What? "
"I’m not leaving."
"No, no, no, King—you have to go."
"I don’t have to do anything."
I headed towards the door and ignored Willow’s sounds of disbelief until she grabbed my shoulder. My skin burned under her touch. It took everything I had to keep my face clear.
"King. I’m begging. If—if you liked me at all, do this one thing for me."
"No."
Her eyes widened. "Please. I don’t want to see you more than I have to."
Goddamn, I love those eyes.
Willow was an angel and those eyes were heaven. But those eyes didn’t need to wander to Elijah Contractor. I'd make sure that didn't happen.
"I don’t care, Willow," I finished and pushed open the door.