Chapter 37
RAIN
Someone was pounding on my door. Again.
I had fallen asleep on my couch, and it took me a moment to decipher what was going on.
Pound! Pound!
“Let me in, Rain.” It was Tyler. “Now!”
What was up with this asshole? Nothing for too long and then back to pounding on my door?
Something was on me, leaning against me, and I shoved it off because I didn’t like being touched like that. Oh, shit. It was a bottle. It was filled with liquid.
Oh, shit. It was rum.
I’d forgotten.
I must’ve fallen asleep with the bottle in my hand.
“Rain!”
My phone started ringing.
I snatched it up, trying to save the rum and the bottle. My couch was going to be drunk.
I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
But the phone was still ringing.
It was the hotel landline. Well, that wasn’t good.
I tossed my cell on the table and grabbed the cordless phone as I went over to the door. I opened it and answered the phone at the same time. “Hello?”
“Ms. Connors, this is the front desk—”
Tyler had lifted his hand to continue pounding. He dropped it now, his face furious as he shoved his way into the room.
I focused on what the front desk was saying, “—a disturbance.” They stopped talking.
I stared at Tyler, my brain working hard to process it all. “Oh,” I said. “I’m okay. That was an asshole at my door, but I opened it.”
There was quiet for a beat on the other end. “Are you in need of security, Ms. Connors?”
I stared at Tyler, whose gaze had fallen to my rum. He took it from my hand and tipped it back, taking a good swallow. “No. He’s inside now.”
“I’m aware, Ms. Connors. I’m asking if you would like us to send security to your room.”
“Why?”
“For your safety. Do you feel safe, Ms. Connors?”
“Not emotionally.”
Tyler wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, glaring at me as he took another drink. “What the fuck are they saying?”
“They’re asking if I feel safe.”
He rolled his eyes upward and turned away from me, going into the bedroom with my rum.
“Ms. Connors?”
“I’m fine. I don’t need security, but if you know a good couch cleaner on staff?” I looked over at the piece of furniture. Too much of that bottle had leaked out. I’d gotten home, started drinking, and probably passed out after two swigs. Lightweight.
“What was that?” the front desk asked sharply.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.” I ended the call and tossed the phone in the direction of its base. There was a thud and a crash, but I was beyond caring at this point.
When I went to the bedroom, Tyler was sitting on the edge of my bed, still drinking and scowling at me.
“You’re one of them.”
I readied myself, or tried. “I’m too drunk for this.”
“Pfft. What? You had two shots of this? You’re not drunk.”
“I feel drunk.”
“You look tired.”
“That too.”
We fell silent. I watched him. He watched me. We were at our first standstill until the storm moved over his face. “You’re a fucking Connors.”
I swallowed. “Not by choice.”
“You are, though. What? Were you laughing at us behind our backs? Sharing all the neat little tidbits to your brothers? To fucking Daniel?”
Nausea rode over me. “I would never.”
“Wouldn’t you? You’re a Connors. That’s what they would do!”
“But I’m not a Connors by choice! I’m only a Connors because of my mom.” My voice broke. “Trust me. I’ve thought about changing my name, but she held me in her arms and told me she liked my name and it’s the last thing I have from her.”
He was quiet. “Your mom?”
“She died when I was six.”
He looked away. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Well. We all have our things, right?” I gave him a pointed look.
He closed his eyes tight and let out a rueful exhale. His hand gripped the bottle so tight while his other raked through his hair. “Daniel fucked my sister’s life up. You know that, right?”
“I know that.” Guilt flooded me. He had no idea how much I knew that.
“I have had to deal with your brothers all my fucking life. I couldn’t get away from them in high school because they were there. They were there in Juniors. They were there on the national teams. They were there in the NHL. They’re everywhere I go and now they’re in my fucking bed?”
“No.” I stepped toward him. “Don’t you—” My voice went guttural. “Don’t you dare fucking go there. They are not here. I—I cannot stand them. I didn’t lie to the team. I don’t know Daniel and Dane Connors. I never want to know them.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense to you because you love your sister. Mine don’t love me. I do not have the type of relationship with them you have with yours. When it comes to family, you are the lucky one. Trust me.”
Silence grew thick in the room. I felt my words echoing around us. Pounding.
“Where the fuck were you tonight?”
I shook my head, stopping in the doorway.
“I grew up with a brother who was meaner than you. Nothing you say will penetrate. Did you know I have a niece? I didn’t.
I haven’t talked to my brothers in twelve years, and tonight, I not only found out that Dane has a daughter, but he named her after me.
Me.” My voice rose. “Why the fuck would he name her after me? He hated me growing up.”
“You haven’t talked to your brothers in twelve years?”
“Now you want to ask questions? After giving me the silent treatment for how long?”
He frowned, ignoring what I said. “Your brother hates you?”
“I just told you they do.”
“How’d you find out about the niece?”
I gave him the abbreviated version. “In the bathroom.”
“Bathroom?”
“VIP section. On the suites level.”
“The fuck are you talking about?”
I was done answering questions. Stalking over to him, I swiped my rum back and returned to the living room. What was I going to do with that couch? I’d need to call someone because I didn’t want the hotel to charge me for cleaning. They’d overcharge me.
Tyler followed. “So you were at the game tonight?”
“You grew up here. Do you know a couch cleaner I could call?”
He stared at the couch alongside me. “My sister probably does, but she’s not talking to me right now.”
I grunted. “Lucky her.”
“What?”
I ignored that. “How do I find somewhere to clean it?”
He gave me a sideways glance. “I don’t think you take couches to the cleaners. They’re not really portable.”
I grunted. “True.” I took another shot of rum and changed my focus. “What are you doing here?”
“Why weren’t you at the game tonight?”
“We’ve already established that I was.”
“But not as part of the team. You weren’t working.” He said this like an accusation.
“It’s none of your business, remember? You left. You haven’t talked to me lately. You have no reason to be here, and even less reason to ask me those sorts of questions.” I pointed at the door, the rum swishing in the bottle from the motion. “Get out.”
“You don’t mean that.” He still glowered, but it was lessening.
“The fuck I don’t.” I took a step toward him. “Get. Out.”
He didn’t move, his eyes tracing my movements. He bent down so he could see right into my eyes. One more inch and my chest would brush against his.
I had no bra on.
I was suddenly aware of that fact.
When I got home, I’d pulled on the clothes on the top of my dresser—a Grays hoodie and my tiny shorts. I hadn’t expected guests. I only wanted to get drunk, numb some of the pain, and sleep. I really wanted to sleep. I always struggled with that, but it’d been worse lately.
As if following my thoughts, Tyler noted, “Morty said you’ve been skating every night.”
I shrugged, taking a step away from him, because this was pointless. Tyler wasn’t going to leave until he took his pound of flesh, whatever that meant for him.
He grabbed my arm.
I froze, looking down at his hold. “What are you doing?”
His thumb began stroking my skin, and he took the rum from me, placing it on the table. “I hate your family.” He tugged me against him, and I could feel how hard his dick was.
I looked down.
He cupped my cheek, tilting me back to look at him.
Holding me in place, he slowly, purposefully, directed me backward until I hit the wall.
He followed, his body against mine, but he was so still, watching me with a cold gleam in his eyes.
His finger moved to rest over my pulse point, holding my chin in place.
He pressed against my carotid. “I don’t think you understand the magnitude of how much I loathe your family members. ”
“I have an idea,” I said, my heart beginning to spike. “I was around back then.”
“You see.” He leaned over me, his gaze now jumping from my eyes to my mouth. “That’s the part I can’t understand. Because where were you? I never heard of a Connors sister. Your brothers are huge assholes. I would’ve heard if they had a weak spot.”
Anger flamed hot in me. I shoved him back…or tried. “I’m no one’s weak spot.”
His fingers pressed harder against my chin. He growled, ducking his head, and I felt his words against my neck. “I’m starting to think you might be mine.”
I stilled. What did that mean? “Tyler?”
His hand suddenly found my hair, fisted a handful of it, and tipped my head backward. I cried out in surprise, but it didn’t hurt me.
My core throbbed. I wanted him. He was such a dick, but I wanted his dick.
He continued to glare at me with such hatred, pure loathing.
“I don’t know the situation with you and your brothers, but tonight, I don’t care.
” He opened his mouth, tasting my neck. I gasped, surging against him.
“Not right now.” His hand slid down and grabbed under my leg, lifting me, giving him better access to grind against me.
I bit back a moan because it felt so good. “You stopped talking to me.” I evaded his kiss when he lifted his head, his mouth searching for mine.
His gaze met mine, hot with repressed need and frustration and lust. “Because I’m pissed. I was about to open up to you, and then suddenly you’re the enemy.”
“You’re my brother’s enemy.” Both of them.
I was their enemy as well. “That’s why I told you.
” My annoyance was dissipating, replaced by a frenzied desperation for him to shut up.
I wanted his hands on me. Touching me. “I wanted you to know who my family was if we were going to continue the way we were going.”
“Well, we’re not,” he snapped. His jaw clenched, and I could see a vein pulsing there.
“Your actions tonight say otherwise.”
He broke, lifting me with a snarl, and I yelped, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He dropped me on the bed and lowered himself on top of me.
He tugged my hoodie off and tossed it to the side.
He caught the side of my jaw in his hand and glowered down at me.
“I want to fuck you.” He waited for my permission.
I flushed, my entire body a volcano for him. “Now you’re asking my permission?”
“I’m an asshole.”
“That’s been established,” I shot back.
He didn’t react except to drop his groin and rub up into me. Holy—I had to bite back another groan. It’d been a long time. I began panting as he dropped his mouth to my neck, sucking long and hard.
Fuck. He was really good at that.
His hand smoothed over my waist, sliding into my shorts and underwear. He slid a finger to my clit but held back. He was waiting for me.
“You don’t fight fair.”
He scoffed. “You wouldn’t have let me anywhere near you if you didn’t want this tonight, and you know it.”
He was right. “I’m drunk,” I countered. I wasn’t. I wished I was.
“Then we both are, because I drank more than you did since I’ve been here.”
“This is wrong.”
He slid one finger inside me.
I couldn’t hold back the moan this time. Just as I remembered how to breathe, he slid a second finger inside. Why does that have to feel so good?
I fisted his sweatshirt, yanking his face to mine. “Listen here.”
His eyes blazed.
“You lost your chance to get to know me. But this.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, mashing us together with his hand still between us.
He smirked as his fingers began sliding in and out of me.
I struggled to hold on to his hoodie to make my point, but I tried valiantly.
“We’re just going to fuck and then you leave. Okay?”
His eyes flashed again and his lip curved up. “Sure.” He dipped his head toward my neck.
“I mean it. After we’re done, you go.”
Dark triumph gleamed back from that beautiful fucking face of his. “Not a problem.” His mouth lowered to cover mine, and as I was swept up in the kiss, I had a feeling I’d been outmaneuvered.
His tongue slid into my mouth, and all that other stupid shit left my mind.