31. Blaine
Chapter thirty-one
Blaine
E veryone expects me to be the good-time party-boy. They also all assumed I’d be out back flirting with some girl, or I guess now they expect me to be talking to Libby but I find myself leaving the backyard in exchange for the somber silence of the empty kitchen.
Since getting back from the beach, I haven’t been able to think straight.
On multiple occasions, I’ve tried to talk to Libby about what the hell I am supposed to be to her, but she dodges the questions and barely responds to my texts.
Am I supposed to keep pretending that we’re hooking up or am I supposed to pretend to let her go?
Either way, I’m pretending, which is nothing new to me.
As if on cue, Libby strolls into the kitchen as if on a mission. “There you are. Did you find your next conquest yet?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sneer at her, folding my arms. “Conquests are your thing, Lib.”
“Oh please, don’t pretend like I’m some kind of heathen and you’re a saint. I know you, Blaine.” Her eyes narrow to a sinister glare. “My . . . extracurriculars . . . are no different than yours.”
Know me? My fists clench in frustration at her assumptions, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to scream the question in her face.
She doesn’t know me at all. No one on this campus does. I’m not heaven sent by any means. But Libby doesn’t know that I can count my supposed slew of one night stands on one hand and still have a finger left. Hell, the same goes for the girls I’ve had in my bed my entire life .
But I’m not about to admit that to Libby when she could turn into my fake girlfriend. Not when she and every single person who’s known me since my freshmen year sees me as the troublemaker of the hockey team.
It’s my own fault for the reputation I have. God knows I’ve stirred up a lot of unnecessary fights. Based on the words Libby just assaulted me with, I’ve got my work cut out for me if I want any chance of going from instigating playboy to dedicated star player.
“Sure, whatever you say, Lib.” Taking off my hat, I nervously run my fingers through my hair before placing it backward again.
“But I can’t have a girlfriend that sleeps around, even if it is a fake one.
I’m not a cheater either. So, you decide if you want to start this charade or continue your .
. . extracurricular. The only game I’m interested in playing is on the ice. ”
She snorts. “And fake dating wouldn’t be a game?”
“Cut the shit, Libby. You know what I mean.” My agitated voice echoes through the kitchen, louder than I intended.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, an idea forms in my head.
I need to give her an ultimatum to make a clear decision.
“You have until the Beer Olympics to figure it out. Yes or no, we’re fake together.
” I distraughtly run my fingers through my long hair again. “Maybe isn’t an option anymore.”
“Okay.” Confusion furrows her brow. “I just thought we were on the same page . . .”
“I can find another fake girlfriend. It only happens that I asked you because I covered your ass at the beach. I need to rebrand myself—with or without you. I was doing you a favor.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re a good friend. I need to be one too.” Her brown eyes gleam with apology when they meet mine. “I’ll let you know at the Beer Olympics, okay?” She asks in a hushed, gentle tone.
“Sure, Lib.” I avert my gaze, looking anywhere but her, unease filling my gut.
I need to stop being seen as a womanizer.
I could just declare I am taking a vow of celibacy like a monk or a priest, but no one would take me seriously.
My “attitude change” is already not being taken seriously so having a fake girlfriend is my best option.
But maybe it’s more stress than it’s worth.
Lucas made me an alternate captain. I need to prove to him I’m turning my act around.
No more fights. No more pretending to take girls home.
I don’t just need him and the rest of the team to start seeing me in a different light, I need to show them who I can be, even if the most anyone will accept is a decent guy. I’ll take what I can get.
Libby’s now causal tone breaks my spiraling thoughts. “I’m going to head out.”
“Do you want me to walk you?” I ask, genuinely wanting to ensure she gets home safely.
“No, that’s okay. Syd is leaving too. We’ll walk back together.” Before sauntering off, she turns to me. “You’re not all bad, Blaine Mitchell,” she whispers in that same hushed, gentle tone, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before going to find Sydney.
A single shred of hope takes root in my heart at her words. I hope she means them, and that everyone else will believe them.
I take a swig of my now lukewarm beer. Libby sheepishly waves goodbye as she walks through the house leaving arm and arm with Sydney.
I lace my hands together behind my head, placing them on the brim of my black Wyverns hat. An exasperated breath escapes me.
“Trouble in paradise?” A voice that I can’t quite place whispers in my ear, causing me to jump.
“Seems like I’m always scaring you, aren’t I, B?” The alluring voice teases me.
Only one person in my life has ever called me “B.” Turning, I find the most unexpected girl before me.
“Renee.” My lips purse, puzzled. “What are you doing here?” My words come out harsher than I intend. I met the blonde seductress almost three years ago while I was visiting the Wyverns. I haven’t seen or talked to her since .
“Is that how you greet all your old friends?” She takes a step toward me again. Instinctively, I take a step back.
“I wouldn’t call a one night stand I haven’t talked to in almost three years an old friend, Renee,” I huff in frustration. Apparently, her lack of response after we spent the night together still hurts my ego.
“Oh, B, don’t be bitter. You know you missed me.” She closes the gap between us and lightly traces her hand along my cheek, grazing it as if to comfort me but it has the opposite effect.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Or are you going to keep playing your little games?”
“You love games, B.” She fake pouts again like a spoiled rich girl throwing a tantrum to get her allowance for the week.
“I’m really sick of people pretending like they know me tonight.” I walk to the fridge to grab a beer, hoping it will ease the tension filling my gut. Between the unwelcome visit from Renee and Libby giving me shit, I’m ready to call it quits tonight.
“So, was that girl your girlfriend?” Renee pries, taking a step toward me, clearly wanting to eliminate the space I created between us.
Memories from the first time I met Renee three years ago fill me as her question about my love life echoes in my mind. Deja vu.
Taking a long pull of my beer, I finally answer her. “It’s none of your concern.” My tone is flat, uninterested, and cold. I know all too well that this girl is capable of fucking with my head.
Renee moves closer to me again. “Then I guess that means I can come home with you tonight,” she purrs, reaching for my hand.
Instinctively, I turn away. “No, thanks. I’m headed back outside.”
My back is to Renee as I start to open the sliding door.
“Wait,” she calls out, choked with emotion which stops me in my tracks.
Slowly, I face her and wait for an explanation.
“Blaine, I’m sorry I just.” She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve missed you. ”
Once again, the emerald eyed beauty tempts me to play the bad boy part I was casted as right away when I came to West. One more night can’t hurt, right? No one would even know.
She reaches for my hand again, this time I allow her to grab it, and she quickly pulls me to the front door to leave. As if following orders, I obediently follow.
“Your place?” she asks, her voice laced with lust and greed.
The single syllable word flies out of my mouth before I can think with my head instead of my cock, “Yes.”
“Good boy,” she lulls, entrancing me in her intoxicating call of temptation.
Good boy ? That is exactly what I need to be.