Chapter 1
LUCY
From: [email protected]
Lucy,
See me in my office at 9 a.m.
On the dot.
- Coach Samson
PS: I still can’t believe they let you change your goddamn email address.
Iseethed at the short, terse, scolding email from my cold and distant tyrant of a guardian.
At the ripe young age of eighteen, and as a college freshman who often got into trouble—intentionally—Coach Blake Samson thought I was an immature dumbass.
An immature dumbass who not only couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag but had fought her way in there in the first place.
What he couldn’t seem to understand was that I’d been taking care of myself since I was twelve years old, when my parents died, and he completely abandoned me.
I might be immature, but I was the furthest thing from a dumbass, and I was getting—
“—so fucking sick and so fucking tired of him trying to boss me around!” I ranted to my best friend, Leslie, as we stood at the counter in our dorm’s common bathroom, Leslie brushing her teeth as I added layer after layer of mascara.
It was only 8:30 a.m., way too early for party girl makeup, but I knew it would piss Blake off… like being late would.
Next to me, Leslie paused in brushing her teeth to raise an eyebrow.
“So you say…” she hummed, mouth full of toothpaste.
“I mean it!” I argued, but I caught my faint blush in the mirror. Being blonde and pale really did me a disservice when it came to hiding my feelings, damn it.
“And if he bossed you around in the bedroom?” Leslie asked.
It sounded like, “An’ i’ e’ bosh you arou’ in the behroom,” because of said mouthful of toothpaste, and usually I’d tease her for talking with her mouth full…and add a joke about how her mouth was usually full of her fiancé Mason’s dick, but I was too annoyed to be on my usual game.
“Girl, I’m over that,” I declared. “Maybe once upon a time I wanted to know what it would be like to be forced over his lap while he taught me a lesson, but that ship sailed looooooong ago. Besides, being bossed around in bed is your thing, not mine,” I added.
Now it was Leslie’s turn to blush. “You’re such a liar,” she accused. “I might like Mason’s dominance, but you’re into that stuff, too.”
She was right. I might have been a virgin, but I had access to online porn and smutty romance books, same as the next person.
And I’d fooled around a bit with college boys over the past few months…
but it was always a huge disappointment.
Maybe it was because I never let them take my clothes off, but whenever I got that far, whenever I tried, Blake’s pissed-off face appeared in my mind, and I couldn’t go through with it.
Just one more reason to hate him.
And even though my friend had somehow found a fiancé that knew his way around a pair of handcuffs, every other guy my age out there was a bumbling idiot when it came to sex—forceful or otherwise. They might pretend they could boss me around, but really, they were babies with boners. I needed a man.
But not Coach Samson, I reminded myself. Oh no, I’d find myself an older man, but it wouldn’t be the asshole who was still in control of my life.
First, I had to finish getting ready and go get lectured by my guardian for whatever perceived trouble I had caused this time.
At least I’d get there late.
I applied Barbie Pink lipstick and blew myself a kiss.
There. I’d full-on piss him off.
“Have fun!” Leslie giggled as I turned to go in my low-rise jeans and tiny pink crop top, tugging it down for maximum cleavage—and I had a maximum.
“Oh, I will,” I promised, because no matter how annoying the lecture was, I’d make sure to have fun…at “Coach’s” expense.
I always did.
Tabb’s campus was small and modern. No creeping ivy or gothic buildings.
Tabb prided itself on being fully immersed in the present day, and that meant chrome, glass, and very little greenery.
As I walked, a little part of my chest hurt, knowing that I’d originally wanted to go to Reina—the beautiful Ivy League university that rose on top of the hill as if it were looking down and judging us.
Reina had a better veterinary sciences program, better everything, really.
But it didn’t have Blake Samson, and when I received my acceptance letters, that had been all that mattered to me.
Although people thought I was “slutty and stupid” (a teacher at my boarding school had even called me that once), I was neither.
I’d had perfect grades and SAT scores, and I was academically ambitious.
If it weren’t for Leslie’s friendship, I would’ve regretted my decision. As it was, my chest ached a little when I thought about it.
But it was fine.
Everything was fine.
I stared at my phone, playing with the ends of my long, blonde, wavy hair, letting 9 a.m. become 9:01, then 9:02.
Finally, at 9:07, I sauntered into the administration building, up the stairs to the athletics department, past the assistant coach as he called after me, “Lucy, why are you always late? He’s going to be—” and pushed the door open to Coach Samson’s office without knocking.
“You know, it is customary to wait for an invitation to enter someone’s space,” Coach said dryly as I crossed my arms and tilted my head back to stare up at him.
Even though I was 5’7”, he towered over me…like he had when I was a little kid with a crush.
Don’t think about that, I scolded myself.
“Why? I’m not a vampire,” I shot back.
“Sit,” he said, nodding to a chair in front of his big desk. A desk I’d fantasized about bending over more than once.
Ugh.
I hated that Leslie was right.
“I think I’ll stand,” I said.
He shrugged. “If these little moments of rebellion bring you joy, who am I to challenge them?”
Motherfucker.
I sat.
He laughed.
Damn it, how did he always manipulate me so easily?
He kept laughing, low in his throat, as I tried not to stare.
His dark hair always fell over one eye, and I was always tempted to brush it back—like I’m sure every other person he came into contact with thought about doing.
Coach had chiseled cheekbones, a flat nose, big dark eyes with obnoxiously long lashes, and a full mouth.
He was still the giant he’d always been, easily 6’6”, broad and muscular, dominating every space he entered and swallowing up all the air in the room.
He looked like Captain America…if Captain America was always picturing ways to kill you.
Well, me. When Coach looked at me, it was like he’d swallowed sour milk at the exact same time someone shoved a broken hockey stick up his ass.
“Why am I here, Blake?” I snapped.
He immediately stopped laughing.
“The dean told me you got caught last weekend gorge jumping over at Reina U.”
It was true. Reina had a much prettier campus than we had, with several gorges that drunk or high students would dare each other to jump into in the warmer months.
I’d dragged Leslie there while Coach, and Mason, our center, were at an away game, and convinced our friends Tovah and Aviva to join us.
Sure, it was risky, but it was fun—until campus security caught us.
Clearing his throat, Blake added, “And that you were all naked.”
That also was true. We’d given the security guard a real show.
Shit.
Blake reached for a glass of water on his desk and took a large gulp.
“I’m hardly the first Tabb student to partake in recreational water sports,” I argued.
Blake choked on his water, spluttering. It spilled all over his pristine white button down, making the shirt stick to his chest. Girls on campus whispered that Coach had a better body than any of the players on the team, and with the way his shirt clung to his muscles, I could see it. I could always see it.
Blake was still choking on his water. I replayed the last thing I said, not sure why he—
Oh. Water sports.
I didn’t have to see myself in a mirror this time to know I’d gone bright red. I usually was able to hide when I was embarrassed, except for when Coach was watching. Then, I lost any ability to control my reactions. It made me feel vulnerable, and I hated it. Hated it.
“That’s not what I meant.” This time, I was the one to splutter.
Recovering, Blake swallowed. God, even his throat was sexy. I hated him so fucking much. Why couldn’t he be ugly?
“I have no idea what you possibly could have meant,” Blake said smoothly. “What I do know is that I had to argue with the dean to keep him from putting you and your friend Leslie on probation. You’re lucky. Not only could you have lost your place at Tabb, you could have died.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “People gorge jump all the time!”
“And get hurt all the time. If I can’t trust you to take care of yourself, Lucy…” he trailed off.
“Then what? What are you going to do to me, Coach?” That fantasy of being forced over his lap appeared in my head briefly before I banished it.
His eyes darkened for a moment, brushing over my body, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was checking me out. I shivered from his indiscernible expression.
“You don’t want to know, Lucy. That, I can promise,” he said, voice thick.
He cleared his throat again. I wanted to believe it was because he was so taken with me and his own fantasies he could barely speak, but like I said, I knew better.
The only fantasies Coach had of me were of me disappearing from his life forever, so he didn’t have to feel responsible for me anymore.
He’d certainly made that clear over the past six years.
He wasn’t done. “From now on, you have a curfew. You will text me where you are, at all times. You will go to class, the library, the cafeteria, and back to your dorm room, where you will stay, all night, by yourself. No more parties, no more causing mayhem. No more trouble. Period.”
I snorted. There was no way he could enforce that. I’d be more careful from now on. No one was going to control my actions or my life, least of all him.
“Yes, sir,” I said sweetly, bending low in a curtsy…and making sure to flash him a bit of cleavage. I couldn’t help myself.
His eyes remained on my face like he hadn’t even noticed.
“Don’t call me sir,” he said. “You haven’t earned the privilege. Now, get out of my office. You have class.”
“Why do you know my schedule?” I asked.
“Because it’s my duty to know everything about you, troublemaker,” he said.
His duty.
Not because he cared.
Because he was still being dutiful to my long-dead father.
Well, he could shove his duty up his ass right next to that hockey stick.
I had mayhem to make and trouble to plan, after all.
I turned to go, already plotting. What was my first move? I guessed I could figure out how to melt the ice in the rink…
“Oh, and Lucy,” he added. “I had to make a deal with the dean to keep you in good academic standing. You’ll be volunteering.”
“I already volunteer,” I said. I worked at the Gehenom animal shelter two nights a week. Even though I wasn’t a vet yet, I did what I could to help.
“More volunteering,” he said. “Not the type that’s connected to your major.”
Dread filled my stomach. He sounded too satisfied; I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Where?” I asked.
“With the hockey team.”
Fuck.
Me.
But I wasn’t about to let him win.
Turning back around, I twirled my hair and looked at him from under my lashes.
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’ve had my eye on some of the players, anyway. This will just give me a chance to know them better.”
With that, I swayed my hips as I made my way out of his office without saying another word, opening the office door and slamming it on his animalistic growl.
As I sashayed out of the office, I winked at his assistant.
“See you later, Trey,” I trilled, knowing his eyes were on my ass.
“You’re just making our lives harder,” he called after me.
I giggled. “Who’s hard?”
Trey sighed. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
“I hope so,” I said.
I did hope so.
As long as it was the right kind of trouble.