Chapter 12 #2
“I’m trying to help you,” he continues, getting closer. “Everyone can see what you’re doing. Using him for his money, his fame. It’s pathetic.”
My stomach lurches. I don’t believe a word out of Patrick’s lying mouth. But the thought that other people might see me as a user makes my heart stutter.
Is that what people think?
That’s when Hunter appears from the locker room.
He’s still in his gear, but only half of it.
Shoulder pads peeled off and dangling from one arm, chest damp with sweat beneath the thin compression shirt he never changed out of.
His gloves are gone, exposing calloused hands and taped wrists, and his hockey pants hang low on his hips like they’re only staying up out of spite.
His dark blond hair is damp and curling at the edges.
Silas and Jett are right behind him, flanking him like bodyguards, looking like two slightly smudged photocopies of the same big, angry man.
The temperature in the hallway drops about twenty degrees.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Hunter growls. “Come here, Juliet.”
He lifts his arm, and I flee to him like a stream to the ocean. Never in my life have I been so glad that I had someone bigger and far meaner in my corner. Hunter tucks me into his side, never breaking eye contact with my ex.
Before Patrick can respond, Coach Ryan cuts through the crowd. Ryan grabs Hunter’s free arm, but his eyes lock on Patrick.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Ryan asks, his voice carrying absolute authority. “No one comes into my arena, into an area that’s off-limits to non-Havoc personnel, and corners a woman who clearly doesn’t want to talk to him.”
He takes a step toward Patrick, who suddenly looks a lot less confident. He licks his lips, his lizard brain trying to come up with an excuse.
“This is a private matter between Juliet and myself.”
“You want to start a fight with me instead?” Ryan asks. He steps up, bristling. He’s got serious fuck around and find out energy going on right now. “Because I’d be happy to accommodate you.”
An assistant coach from Houston’s team walks by right then. Ryan calls out to him. “Hey, Martinez. Collect your player before he gets himself arrested for harassment.”
The coach’s eyes bug out when he sees the situation. He grabs Patrick by the arm and starts dragging him away.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I hear him hissing as they disappear down the hallway.
Silas and Jett head back into the locker room and Coach Ryan follows them.
“Hey.” Hunter looks down at me, concern clear in his gray eyes. He reaches up to touch my face with gentle fingers. “Are you okay, Monroe?”
Not even slightly. I’m still shaken from my run-in with Patrick. But I can’t say that, so I go with, “Better now.”
Hunter tips my face up, examining me. I hate how easily he does that. His hand spans half my face. I feel small next to him and not in the bad way Patrick used to make me feel.
“I should’ve known that vile piece of shit would come after you.”
I shift, swallowing. I need to cry, badly, but I can’t exactly let it out here in the hallway. Anyone could see. So I grab his hand, squeeze it, and exhale a shaky breath.
“I’m all right.”
“Liar.” Hunter drops his mouth to my ear, whispering, “I can feel you shaking.”
Yup. I am definitely too close for comfort. I push against his chest and he lets me go, but his gaze is still intense. The man can make fucking eye contact, that’s for sure.
“You should go,” I tell him. “You have the press to deal with.”
Hunter grunts. “They can do the press conference without me.”
Jessa rushes into the hallway, her eyes wide. “Juliet!!”
I glance at my roommate and reach an arm out to her.
“See?” I say to Hunter. “Jessa’s here. We’re about to leave.”
“Are you sure?” Hunter turns and looks toward the locker room, clearly torn.
Jessa pulls me into her arms. I flash him a half-smile. The last thing I need right now is to deal with whatever complicated feelings I have about him defending me.
“Absolutely.”
“Go right home,” he orders, walking backward toward the door. “No detours. I mean it.”
“So bossy.” I roll my eyes at that. “I’ll go right home, dad.”
I hate him. Hate the way he acts like he owns me. But the worst part is I can’t stop thinking about him. Asshole.
His mouth twitches, not quite a grin. He can’t seem to help himself when it’s me mouthing off.
His eyes twinkle. “We can talk about you calling me Daddy at home.”
Jessa bursts into giggles, and I shake my head. “In your dreams, Huxley.”
He turns and heads into the locker room, leaving me with Jessa. She squeals and pinches my arm. “What was that?”
“Just Huxley being a brute.”
“Yeah, a brute who scares away your bullies.”
That’s a little too accurate for my liking. Jessa walks me to the exit, leaving me there since she still has work to do as part of her housing and lifestyles coordinator position. We agree to have a girls’ night soon and hug before I step out of the building.
If I can’t keep myself from bursting into flames every time he looks my way, Hunter Huxley will be the death of me.