12. Maddox
Maddox
I can’t fucking believe I ever let Viktor Ulrich get that close to me again. I seethe as I head back to my dorm, the chilly air doing nothing for the heat in my cheeks.
That was humiliating.
I had an inkling he was still in Buffalo, but by a stroke of luck, I haven’t run into him since high school. Haven’t seen him since he glowered at me at graduation, his nose covered in bandages and a yellowish bruise between his eyes from how Caleb punched him in their locker room.
I haven’t spoken to him since he threatened to bash my face in if he ever saw me again. Right after graduation, I blocked him and hoped that was the end.And for the past few years, I actually believed that it was—only to have him enter my life again, and in front of Killian, of all people.
I finally reach my room and pull my jacket off, dumping my bag on my bed, and collapsing onto the mattress with a loud groan.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
Killian had glimpsed the weak side of me—unable to move and fighting down nausea.
I heard myself when I asked him to stop—my voice came out weak.
And when I finally pulled myself together and got out of there, it was too late.
Killian had already seen a version of me I hate.
It was the same version of me I tried to leave behind in high school.
It was a slap to the face—a grim reminder of why exactly, aside from my best friend, I put everything into not associating with jocks.
Dangling my feet over the edge of my bed, I lie down and close my eyes, rubbing at my chest and hoping I calm down soon. My phone keeps buzzing, and I ignore it for a good minute before finally checking my messages.
Caleb: Where are you? You were gone when I came out and Nicky said you left.
Me: Wasn’t feeling great, sorry. Should check your milk. Might be expired.
Caleb: Tf? It’s not expired. You sick?
Me: A bit. Back at my dorm and will nap.
Caleb: K text me if you need anything
I’m not sure if Killian was still there when Caleb came out from the storage room, but I’m glad that nobody mentioned Viktor to him. That would’ve made my best friend lose it, and he already has enough on his plate with his family and hockey.
Scrolling through my notifications, I realize that Killian’s also texted me.
Killian: Where’d you goooo :(
Killian: Maddox are you ok? Can I come to you?
Killian: Pleaaaase :( :(
I stifle a snort. He’s ridiculous.
And… he wasn’t thrown off by how pathetic I was acting, and that realization makes me feel a bit better.
A lot better, actually.
Me: Not feeling great. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Killian: Liar. You looked fine
Killian: Maddooooox :( Let me see you
Killian: You went back to your dorm, didn’t you? I’m already on my way there, but if you really want me to turn back I wil l
My heart thumps and I stare at my phone for too long. I should tell him to turn back. He doesn’t want to see me in this state. Actually, he shouldn’t want to see me in any state aside from our tutoring—why is he doing this?
Killian is an enigma to me. I can’t figure him out.
He’s an incorrigible flirt, a playboy with a reputation, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.
He’s the very image of all the guys who’ve hurt me.
Yet… he’s different. He’s so genuine and thoughtful, unbothered by my moodiness and attuned to my feelings.
Who the hell is he?
I should say no.
I really, really should.
Me: You can come up.
Killian: :D :D :D :D :D :D
Sighing, I get up to change into more comfortable clothes. By the time there’s a knock on the door, I’m already in a loose shirt and sweatpants.
“It’s open,” I grumble.
Killian lets himself in. He gives me a once-over, and I don’t miss how his gaze stalls at my clavicles. Self-consciously, I tug my collar up. Probably shouldn’t have worn something so loose—usually, when I have tutees over, I change out of my sleepwear.
“What happened?” he asks. “Why did you run off?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
He lets out a soft exhale and looks torn between pushing and letting it go. When he nods, I feel as if a weight’s fallen off my shoulders.
But then I realize that he’s never been in my room before for any reason other than tutoring, and I’m not sure what to do now.
Turns out I don’t even need to worry about it, because Killian’s face splits into a grin and he takes his cap and coat off before walking further into my room.
He places his things on top of my dresser and glances around as if thinking of what to do next, and before I know it, he plops down on my bed.
“Wanna watch your rom-coms with me?” he asks .
“No, because knowing you, you’ll probably talk the entire time,” I snap, and his mouth quirks in amusement. My eyes widen, and I grimace. “Sorry. That was mean.”
“It’s okay,” he says, completely unbothered as usual.
“We can study instead if you want, then you won’t need to come over tomorrow.”
“But I want to see you tomorrow, too.”
My heart leaps. Shit.
Killian scratches his neck. “Besides, I’d rather chill. You’re not the only one in a bad mood right now.”
My eyebrows furrow together. He says he’s in a bad mood even if he looks cheerful as always, but I recall how he was distracted by his phone right before I left the café. “Who was calling you?”
“My dad. He and my two older brothers are coming to the game next week, and I didn’t know how to tell him I’d rather they don’t. Having them there puts way too much pressure on me.” He gives me a grim smile. “He’s always telling me how to do things—and he’s never played hockey in his life.”
His admission leaves a familiar sour sensation in my mouth.
Killian’s mentioned his dad a few times before, and from that and what Nick told me about him, I’ve decided I don’t like him at all.
While I’m not extremely close with my parents, they’re both supportive of me in all the ways they need to be.
Like parents should be. I can’t even imagine what Killian’s going through.
At the risk of speaking my mind about his father, who I’ve never actually met, I clear my throat and change the subject. “By the way, I’m going to ask Wheeler to let you retake the first exam.”
Killian’s mouth parts, and he leans back. “Why?”
“Because you flunked it and it’s going to affect your midterm grades, which you’ve mentioned will determine whether you can play for the rest of the semester. He’ll probably need convincing, but I think I can make my case if I point out that you’re actually trying to learn the course.”
I thought that he’d love to hear this, but Killian’s face falls .
“Maddox,” he murmurs. “I love the effort, but I won’t ace it. And even if I retake it, I doubt I’ll get a high enough score to make a difference.”
“You will. Have more confidence in yourself.”
Killian frowns and averts his eyes, and I watch him from where I’m still standing by the door. I guess I’ve ruined his already bad mood further.
I can’t stand this. How he has no confidence in himself irritates me, because I know for a fact that Killian is a lot more capable than he gives himself credit for.
His dad really did a number on him.
I walk over and stop right in front of him. When he’s seated like this, I’m much taller, and it actually feels as if there’s a shift in our power dynamic somehow with the way he has to lift his chin to meet my eyes.
“We can make a bet,” I say. “Ace the exam that’s coming up soon, and the exam I want you to retake, and I’ll give you something you want.”
That at least makes him grin. “Playing on my competitive side? That’s my move.”
I smirk and mimic his words, saying, “What, scared?”
“Never.”
“Come on. What do you want if you’re able to ace the tests?”
“A kiss.”
My breath swooshes out of me and my cocky expression gets wiped right off my face. He holds my gaze as I attempt to respond, and I open and close my mouth a few times, speechless.
Finally, I bite out, “No.”
Even if I really, really want to say the opposite.
I need to remind myself that Killian Schultz is dangerous for me, even if I may like him more than I ever want to admit. If I got a small taste of him, I’d probably want to take everything else, and I don’t think I’d be able to come back from that.
Killian barks out a laugh. “Worth a try.”
“Something else. ”
The mood shifts when his expression softens. A beat passes, and Killian’s throat bobs. He murmurs, “Maybe you can tell me about what happened between you and Ulrich?”
And, that easily, my heart drops, and I feel the blood leave my face. I feel what I always do each time I’m reminded of Viktor Ulrich without warning—fear.
I hate it, and I shouldn’t have let my guard down. I should have known Killian wasn’t done asking about him.
He’s quick to sense my reaction, concern flashing across his features.
Gritting my teeth, I turn to storm off, only to be stopped by long fingers wrapping around my wrist. He pulls me toward him and widens his legs, slotting me between them, and my breath hitches when he holds me by the hips and keeps me in place.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again, I swear.”
I say nothing and try hard not to look away, forcing myself to at least be strong now. He rubs his thumbs against my hips, and I can feel it through the thin layer of my shirt. I let him. It’s comforting in a way I couldn’t have imagined.
“Maddox?” he asks when I take a tiny step closer. He takes it as permission to drift one hand toward the small of my back. Killian rubs a palm against my lower back, and I melt into his touch. I almost close my eyes and hum.
He watches me with such earnest eyes, his brows furrowed in worry. I think I’m freaking him out—because of how I almost fled or because of how I’m letting him put his hands on me, I don’t even know.
“Are you okay?” The hand that’s rubbing my back slips underneath my shirt, and I inhale sharply once his warm palm touches my skin. He pulls me closer, and I put a hand on his chest.
My heartbeat is loud in my ears and my breathing becomes ragged as he traces the ridges of my spine and holds me firmly in place.
“Maddox.” The soft way he says my name causes an ache in my ribcage.
More. I want more .
But what if he disappears once he gets what he wants? It’s happened with others before.
That reminder is what my brain needs to function again.
I lift my hand off his chest and run my fingers through his hair, watching his lips part as I do. A startled sound escapes him when I grasp him by the back of his head and yank him to meet my gaze, and I bear down on him until our lips are almost touching.
He stops moving entirely.
“I don’t recall saying you could touch me,” I murmur.
Killian smiles wickedly and lets go of me, holding up his hands as if to prove that he’s going to listen. He even wiggles his fingers to make a point. “My bad.”
I loosen my grip on him and stand up straight, putting some distance between us, but I don’t completely let go of his hair. “It’s fine.”
More than fine, actually. And that’s the issue right there.
His gaze flickers across my face. “What about this? If I ace the tests, will you wear my jersey to a game?”
I snort. “That’s it? All right.”
His eyes widen. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Well, uh. Didn’t think you’d agree so quickly. I’ve always thought it was hot, but some people think it’s cringe to wear the jerseys of the players they’re dating.”
“First, we’re not dating. Second, I don’t care what other people think.
” As soon as I say that, Killian’s chest puffs out and he gives me the widest, most blinding smile I’ve ever seen on him.
It takes everything in me not to look away, and I hurry to move on.
“Anyway, deal. Ace the tests, and I’ll wear your jersey. ”
“And if I don’t ace them, what do you want?”
For a moment, I pretend to think about it. Smiling, I finally let go of his hair, but I don’t stop touching him. I thumb the small scar on his jaw and his eyes flutter, half-lidded. I say, “No need to think about that. I’m sure you’ ll ace them.”
And I probably shouldn’t have said that, because the eager look that Killian gives me at that moment makes me want to kiss him more than ever.
The intensity in his eyes reminds me of a conversation I’ve been fighting hard to forget—when he said he doesn’t need to touch my dick to make me come.
It was a fucking unhinged thing to say to your tutor, and he did it without even breaking eye contact.
He said it like he was telling me what the weather was.
Remembering it now should piss me off. It should have pissed me off then . I should have gone off on him and told him that was a completely inappropriate thing to say to another student, especially one who’s a teaching assistant in one of his classes.
That’s how I should have reacted.
But instead, I seek him out… all the time. When he approached me in the café, I smiled before I could even stop myself. When he asked if he could come up to my room, I didn’t even stand a chance.
He’s ingrained himself in my life whether I like it or not.
Fuck Killian Schultz.
And I don’t mean that literally, despite how much my dick disagrees.