Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
“Here you go, sweetie,” the cute waitress says as she hands me a paper towel wrapped ice pack. She insisted no matter how many times I told her I didn't need it. Wearing the evidence of a fight is like a badge of honor for hockey players, and it’s even better if we don’t get a concussion out of it. Though, there is no way Kamden can actually hit that hard.
He might play football, but his job is to catch the ball, not defend a puck like I’m used to. So this busted lip is nothing to me.
Just to appease the girl, I bring the iceto my mouth, and when the sting subsides, I hold it there.
“You think it’s broken?” Finch asks in regard to Kamden’s nose.
I blow out an airy breath. “One can only hope.” Truth is, when he said those things about Brogan, I just lost it. I might hit ’em and quit ’em, but I don’t talk about them like they are a whore. And he’s supposed to be her boyfriend. That’s fucked up.
“I still can’t believe that fucker came at you on your own turf,” my buddy, Lenny, says as he slides a freshly opened bottle of beer in front of me. I take a long swig, letting the cool drink soothe this weird ache in my chest. I have no idea why Kamden was outside the rink tonight, but he came at me like he was hunting me. I didn’t get a look at what he showed Brogan, but whatever it was made her face fall.
I don’t make a habit of running out of the locker room with all of my gear on. In fact, Coach and everyone else frowns upon it. But I had to talk to her. I knew she would leave the second the game was over, so as soon as I got out of my skates, I ran.
Coach will no doubt have my head about it later, especially because I made a scene in the parking lot. I’m just thankful there were no scouts there to witness it. That, and I paid off a few puck bunnies to make sure that any pictures of the altercation didn’t get out. Which is why Finch offered to cover my tab tonight. He knows I’ll pay him back, but right now, I think I need to just forget.
The bet with Brogan was supposed to be something fun, something just between us. Leave it to Kamden to ruin that just like he has done with everything else for as long as I can remember.
A few more of our teammates join us and our burly-ass goalie, Tank, throws his hands in the air. “I heard we’re kicking someone’s ass tonight.”
I laugh as I drop the ice pack on the bar table and pick up my beer. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. No fucking doubt about that.”
Kamden Donnelly was spared tonight, but when he least expects it, I have every intention of destroying him.
A few hours later, I’m toasted.
Scratch that, I’m fucking hammered. There was a happy medium at some point in the night. I was celebrating with my boys and feeling good. I had finally forgotten about Brogan and her shitty boyfriend.
Then some chick came into the bar that looked just like her and I started downing shots to get her out of my head. Shit went downhill fast from there.
Now the room is spinning and my head holds the weight of a bowling ball—and that’s with me sitting in a chair. The second I stand up, I feel my body weight shift to the left and the next thing I know, I’m crashing into a high-top round table and watching glass shatter at my feet.
I hold my hands up, showing everyone I’m good. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
Lenny throws an arm around my waist and I look up at him between the creases of my slitted eyes. “A little too close for comfort, big guy.”
“That’s it,” Lenny says as he holds me up. “Let’s get you home so you can go to bed.”
I pull against him and sputter. “I’m not a fucking toddler. I can go to bed when I wanna go to bed. Now bring me back to campus so I can find that son of a bitch, Kamden. Then I’ll put myself to sleep.”
Anyone who knows Lenny knows he can physically overpower damn near any student at Rosewood U. He’s intimidating at seven feet tall, with arms that could bench press a small car. He’s as soft as they come, though. Like a big teddy bear with a heart of gold. We make jokes sometimes that he’s like a dad to all of us. And right now, I think the title has gone to his head.
By the time we’re outside, I don’t even remember making it this far. A car pulls up and Lenny opens the back passenger door. “In you go,” he says, practically stuffing me inside the car. He slams it shut before I have to chance to say thank you— or fuck you .
“Where ya taking me?” I ask the driver, who I can’t see because it’s dark as hell.
His growly voice echoes in the small space. “The destination said College Drive.”
I shake a finger at him, barely able to keep my head afloat. “Nope. Take me to Hallstrom Hall.”
“You’ll have to make the change on the app you ordered from.”
I pat my pockets in search of my phone, but I don’t feel it. “Did you take my phone?”
“No, sir. I didn’t take your phone.”
I lean forward, bracing myself between the two front seats. “What about your friend?”
“My friend?”
“Yeah,” I stammer. “Your friend up there with you.”
“I’m alone, sir. There is no one else up here.”
I drop back in my seat, dwelling on what he said. I could have sworn there were two of them. Fuck. I’m wasted.
In a last-ditch effort to find my phone, so I can change my destination, I dig my hand into the inside pocket of my jacket. “I got it,” I shout as I pull it out. “I got my phone. Your friend didn’t steal it. He’s lucky too. I’d beat his ass.”
The driver remains quiet and I’m pretty impressed with his level of patience. He must have kids. Toddlers, even. Toddlers that are in bed because they were told to go to sleep.
But I’m not a toddler and I can do whatever the hell I want.
By the time I open my rideshare app, the car comes to a stop. My eyes shoot to the left out the window. “Hey, this isn’t Hallstrom Hall.”
“As I said, the destination was not Hallstrom Hall. You can exit now.”
I scratch the top of my head, dumbfounded. “But I found my phone.”
To my surprise, the back door comes open and it’s mind-boggling because the driver is still sitting up front. Must be his friend that was up there with him.
Two hands wrap around my lower waist and I’m pulled out of the car, which actually pisses me off.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I grumble and wriggle in an attempt to break free.
“Calm your ass down, Hayes.” The voice is familiar and when I lift my tired eyes, I’m happy to see my good friend, Finch.
“Finchhhh,” I howl. “Where the hell did you come from? I thought you were still at the bar.”
“Dude. I left the bar two hours ago. Lenny called and woke my ass up and told me to come out here and get you.”
“That Lenny’s a good guy.” I pat Finch on the shoulder, a smile on my face that feels a little off. Or maybe that’s just me as I start tilting sideways. Or it’s the earth spinning and now that I’m drunk enough I can feel it.
Finch wraps his arm around me and I lean into him. I’m a little fearful I might knock him down because he’s built like a hockey stick, but the fucker is fast as hell on the ice.
“You’re a good guy, too, Finch. You’re all good people. Everyone but me. I’m a fuckup. A broke-ass fuckup.”
I’m dropped onto the couch in the living room and once again, I’m not sure how I got here. “You’re not a fuckup, man, but you are fucked up. Go to sleep.” Finch tosses a blanket over me and I roll onto my side, realizing I still have my phone in my hand.
“I found my phone again,” I call out, but I get no response back. “Yeah, fuck you guys, too.”
I swipe open the screen on my phone, admiring the wallpaper. It’s a shot of me scoring the final goal in our final game last season. If you want a magical life, you have to learn to make magic.
My mom told me that before she died. I’ve been trying ever since.
Pushing away the thoughts of her, because I don’t like to think about her, I open up my contacts list and scroll until I see “Legs.” Then I tap the message icon.
Me: Your boyfriend is an asshole.
I still can’t wrap my head around their relationship. What are the odds that Kamden fucking Donnelly—my biggest rival on campus—ends up dating the girl I slept with last spring. It just doesn’t seem real. I can actually understand why he’d think I’m pursuing her, but this time it has nothing to do with him.
Brogan is sarcastic and cavalier, yet she calls me the arrogant one. She always has some snarky comeback for everything I say and doesn’t know how to use the expression “thank you” appropriately. Now that I think about it, she’s sort of a pain in the ass. It is fun getting under her skin, though. In fact it’s so fun, I might actually enjoy it as much as I enjoy being on the ice.
Or maybe that’s the booze talking.
My phone slips out of my hand and my eyes slowly close. The second my phone dings, they shoot back open. I reach down, slapping my hand around beside the couch until I find it.
Legs: I’m not sure how you got my number, but lose it please.
Man, she’s harsh, but I have no intention of losing her number. I’ve never let a girl linger on my mind as long as she has. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is about her, but I chalk it up to her being different from all the other girls I’ve slept with. I told her to go, and she went.
The thing that gets me is, she actually stayed away when all of a sudden I just want her to be close. For some reason, her attitude only intrigues me further. And the fire that burns in her eyes every time she looks at me feels like a challenge.
I always did love a challenge because winning is how I make my magic. And I want to win Brogan Astor.
I close my eyes, thinking about the first night I met her and how good it felt to bury my cock inside her sweet pussy.
Now all I can think about is how I want to do it again. Damn, that girl turns me on. So much so, I’m hard as fuck just thinking about her. Which is saying something with how drunk I am. I shouldn’t even be able to get it up, but nope, I’m hard as nails.
Kicking off my pants and boxers, I get a firm grip on my cock. My fingers glide over my piercings, the rods rolling with my stroke feeling better than sin.
My hand glides up and down my erection while I pull the image of her standing naked in my room from memory.
Only this time, she’s wearing my game jersey. I let the mental picture linger for a minute, because fuck, she’s hot.
Then, I’d slowly peel my jersey over her head, exposing her milky, smooth skin. My eyes roam her body, landing on her chest.I’d give my left nut to suck on one of her perky tits right now. I’d drag my teeth across her budded nipple until she screams in agony-filled pleasure and begs me to do it again.
I envision the curvature of her hips that run down to her widespread thighs. If she were here, I’d bring both of her knees to her shoulders and bury my face in her dripping center.
She tasted so damn sweet that night, I could have gotten off with my hand if it meant my mouth stayed on her warm cunt. But I needed to feel her just as much as I'm craving her touch right now.
Pumping myself faster, I see her again, standing in the dimly lit parking lot after my game. I remember the way she smiled and how something shifted inside me. I’m not sure what it was, but I wouldn’t be opposed to feeling it again.
More so, I’d love to feel her tight lips wrapped around my cock.
Her slim fingers would wrap around my length, her other hand gripping my balls as she massages them. I can already feel her long nails pressing into them as I bring my newest fantasy to life.
I grip myself tighter, moving quicker, as I imagine it’s her mouth sucking me off. Her mouth would be so warm and inviting. Those fiery eyes staring up at me with want in them.
I'd let her get her fill before tossing her on my bed and sliding into her. I’d fuck her like she was mine. All mine.
Heat shoots through my core and every muscle in my body tightens as I release, shooting cum into my hand. Using my shirt, I wipe it off and toss it to the corner as my reality begins to set back in.
It feels a little like that night. But this time, I wouldn't let her leave. I wouldn't run from that look she gave me because now I know that Brogan is a girl worth fighting for.
Now, I’m not sure how I’ll ever settle for not having her in my bed again.