12. Stone
STONE
I’m starving . More than usual after a practice. All I want is to go home and eat a giant plate of pasta, chicken, and salad. Which is weird, I know. But it’s what we used to have when I’d get home from practice as a kid, and it’s what I crave now.
That, and a little freaking stability.
But those days are in the distant future. Once Wren is out of the picture and I can just focus on hockey and nothing else, then I’ll be able to concentrate.
With my bag slung over my shoulder, I wave goodbye to the teammates left in the locker room. Under normal circumstances, I’d wait for Evan and Sully, but they’re both dawdling, Sully still getting dressed, and my growling stomach dictates my movements.
I round the corner and stop dead.
Wren.
Archer.
The first thing I notice is their embrace. The way he’s cupping the back of her head and holding her to his chest.
The second thing is her panic. Her mouth is open, her chest heaving. There are freaking tears in her eyes.
And the thing about Wren is that I’ve never seen that girl shed a tear. Not when the social worker dropped her back off at Evan’s house for the thousandth time. Not when people picked on her at school. Not when I picked on her at school.
But she’s crying now, and Archer seems caught between confused and mortified. Our goalie is a big dude. And usually, the last person you want to pick a fight with is the fucking goaltender. But he looks guilty , stroking her hair like he has any fucking right to touch her.
Why is he touching her?
Why is she crying?
For some reason, that just spikes my anger. I drop my bag and rush them, ripping Wren away from him. She stumbles to the side, but I’m too focused on Archer. He belatedly realizes what has happened, which means he isn’t prepared for my fist in his face.
Something pops in my hand, but the blood that comes pouring out of his nose is worth the sting of pain. He yells and pushes me away, but it isn’t hard.
Fuck , I want a fight. I lunge for him again. He grips my shoulders and basically throws me into the wall, but I come back and get in a quick punch to his ribs. My hand is fucking killing me, but I hit him again in the stomach. He bends over, wheezing droplets of blood everywhere.
Archer runs his fingers under his nose. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” I seethe. “You made her cry?”
“You’re batshit insane.”
I shove him, and he laughs as he goes backward. Only a goalie would be laughing and bleeding at the same time.
“Stay away from her.” I point at him. My heart is going a million miles a second, the adrenaline bleeding into post-practice exhaustion.
“Stone!” Evan puts himself between us. His hand on my chest is the only thing stopping me from taking Archer’s head off. “What’s going on?”
“He made her cry.”
“No, I fucking didn’t,” Archer snaps. “I was comforting her.”
I glare at him. “You can comfort her from a distance, asshole. You don’t need to molest her to do it.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Foster—”
“Enough,” Even snaps. “Archer, go. Please.”
I raise my eyebrows at him, and the big dude finally stomps away. Good riddance . But when I turn back toward Wren, she’s not crying anymore.
She’s just as pissed as I was.
Am.
Fucking hell, she’s got me all mixed up.
“Go to hell, Stone,” she says in an even voice.
My eyebrows rise. “What?”
She grabs Evan’s hand and drags him past me. “You should get familiar with Hell. You welcomed me there when we started sharing the room—but you’re the one who’s gonna be living there for the next few months.”
They leave, and I stand there dumbfounded until Sully comes out of the locker room.
“What’s up? I heard yelling.”
I snatch my bag from where I dropped it and follow him out. We head in the direction of the hockey house. On a day like today, I need the fresh air.
“I thought I saw Archer being inappropriate with Wren.”
Sully snorts. “You know you’re like the definition of inappropriate with Wren?”
My jaw falls open. “What? No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
I mean… maybe . “It’s just because we’ve known each other forever. She’s my best friend’s pseudo-sister, which basically means she’s my sister.”
Biggest lie I ever told, especially since I can’t stop thinking about her face when that vibrator made contact under the blanket. It’s haunting me. She’s haunting me.
By the time we get back to the house, all the lights are on.
Wren sits at the table with a bowl of mac n’ cheese, Evan beside her. Along with Taylor and Grant, the two remaining housemates. Archer sits next to Evan, and the distance makes me feel somewhat better. All the guys have wet hair and contemplative expressions, which means she was talking shit.
Of course she was.
She came to this house with the goal of sabotaging us. Sabotaging me . Evan might be blind to her little act, but I’m not.
“House meeting,” Wren announces without looking at me.
Sully chuckles. “You stepped in some shit, my friend.”
He claps me on the back. I elbow him and take the seat at the end of the table, with Sully beside me. Wren’s gaze still seems to go everywhere but at me.
“I’m in search of a new roommate,” she says.
My jaw fucking drops. I mean, yeah , technically this is what I wanted all along. But now? I’m supposed to just let her go with one of them?
“You can share my bed, Wren,” Archer says.
He meets my gaze and smiles.
Oh, the fuck she will.
“Over my dead body,” I grit out.
“You’re small,” Taylor says, ignoring me. “You wouldn’t take up much space in mine.”
She smiles brilliantly at him. It’s so fake it burns. Which means she’s doing this to torture me, then.
“No.” I ball my fists under the table.
Evan glances between us. “So, Stone, you want Wren to stay in your room?”
I make a face.
“It doesn’t matter what Stone wants,” Wren says loudly. “It matters what I want. I’m not sharing a room with someone I can’t trust. And he’s at the top of that list.”
Ouch. “Because of the stupid photo?”
“You still haven’t taken it down,” Evan points out. “Which you definitely should. Right now.”
All eyes swing to me.
Seriously?
How did I become the bad guy?
I shake my head and pull out my phone, deleting the whole post and its million views. Well, shit. That actually accumulated a lot.
I toss my phone at Wren. “There. Check and see for yourself. But I’m not responsible for people who copied and reposted it.”
She scowls, picking my phone up with her fingertips like it might be contaminated. She types something, then slides it back to me.
A new status update from Stone Foster: I post pictures of sleeping girls because I’m compensating for being a shitty hockey player.
I go to delete it, but Wren wags her fucking finger at me.
“You touch that status, and I guarantee I’ll stay in everyone’s room except yours.”
“Well, you’re definitely not doing that .”
She gets up. “Come on, Archer. I want to check out your room.”
He scrambles after her. Evan’s laugh chases me as I follow them upstairs, stopping in the doorway. She flops on his bed while he stands in the middle.
“Hmm… Your bed is really comfy.” Her gaze comes to me.
I fucking hate her.
“No,” I snap. I brush past Archer and grab Wren, picking her up and carrying her out into the hall. I put her back on her feet, stepping away before she can hit me again. “Stop being fucking foolish.”
“I don’t know what your problem is,” she snaps back. “Why do you even care?”
I roll my eyes. “Because you’re a nuisance, and I can’t concentrate with you around.”
“Which is exactly why I should not be around.”
“You think the idea of you pulling stupid pranks in other guys’ rooms, taunting me about fucking them, is going to help?”
Her mouth falls open. “You think I’m going to sleep with them?”
I throw my hands up. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know what your kind would do to keep a roof over your head.”
“Your kind,” she repeats. She steps closer, her eyes flashing. “Do you mean poor , Stone?”
I lift my chin. “I mean the daughter of an imprisoned drug dealer. Are you following in your daddy’s footsteps?”
Hurt flickers across her face, but it’s gone before I can latch onto it. In its place is steely determination. “So you don’t want me in your room, and you don’t want me in any of theirs.”
“Pretty much,” I goad.
“Fine,” she hisses. “Have it your way.”
She storms off. I follow her downstairs, to a door off the kitchen that I’ve never opened. I thought it was a pantry. But she yanks it open and reveals a tiny room. It’s got a single window with broken blinds covering it, and it’s full of boxes.
“Evan,” she calls. “Can you help me get these boxes out of here?”
He appears beside me, elbowing me hard in the stomach.
I grunt.
“Why?” he asks her.
She turns on the spot, her fists planted on her hips. “Because I just found my new room.”
I gape at her, and all she does is smile.
“Now, I think this satisfies your requirements, Stone?”