Untouchable (The Ohio Rusties Hockey #3)

Chapter Colton

COLTON

ELEVEN YEARS AGO | ALDEN UNIVERSITY

I love when everything just works out.

Like magic, that gorgeous girl from the front row of my game walked into my house.

Glossy brown hair, striking blue eyes shining out from olive skin.

Through the glass, her lips kept tipping up into these soft smirks that threw me for a loop.

At the game, she had her hair tied half back with a ribbon made into a bow holding it up.

Here, she wore an oversized bow on top of her head as part of her Halloween costume.

Not like magic, I got trapped in a conversation with my roommate Mikey.

“It’s just really lame that he’s not here,” he huffed, talking about our other roommate and teammate, Guy Stelle. “She showed up and it’s like she’s the only person who exists.”

“Uh huh,” I said, watching the front row girl make her way through the party in what looked like a Powerpuff Girls costume. I was dressed as an angel, while Mikey was the devil. What a night to meet someone, Halloween.

The devil himself spoke again. “We should go over there and bring him back.”

I zoned back into what he was saying. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” he said, getting more indignant. “We shouldn’t just let Stelle waste these precious years being with some girl from high school. He should be with us. Bros before hoes.”

I sighed and grimaced. “And to do that, we need to go physically remove him from her dorm?”

Mikey looked at me like it was obvious. “Well, yeah?”

I put my arm around his shoulder and walked him to the keg. “I think,” I said, “you should say hello to this lovely person. What’s your name?”

The girl before us had pin-straight blonde hair, a sexy nurse costume, and an empty cup in her hand. “Gina.”

“Gina,” I said, “this is Mikey. He’s a little under the weather and could use a medical professional like yourself to check him out.”

I clapped Mikey on the shoulder and excused myself.

I was on a mission. I breezed through the party, squeezing between werewolves, mummies, and an assortment of topical costumes that needed far too much explanation.

Then I found her. But when I did, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. The hand holding her red Solo cup shook, her face had paled, and she was backing toward our kitchen. I put myself in her path, my hands gentle on her upper arms. “Hey, cutie.”

She jumped and spun, those blue eyes enormous and glassy like she might cry.

I didn’t know her, but seeing her shattered like that broke me. “What’s the matter?”

She forced a smile, laughed, and patted my chest. I laughed along with her even though I had no idea what could be funny when she looked so distraught.

“Hey, I’m—” her wheezed breath was so forceful that I could see her upper ribs— “sorry. I have to go.”

“Hold on, hold on.” She seemed on the verge of a panic attack. Her palm still faced me from where she touched my chest. I surrounded her petite hand in mine. It was freezing. “It’s okay. Just focus on me.”

Her brows lowered, her eyes still big and round.

“Yeah. That’s it. Good. I’m Jones.” My thumb stroked the back of her hand. “Colton Jones.”

Her face brightened slightly at my James Bond-style intro.

“Gennari,” she said. “Violet Gennari.”

I nodded. “Stay with me, Violet. You’re okay.”

Her gaze softened and her hand slackened in mine. This was working. This was good. “Okay,” she whispered.

I peeked down into her cup, still half full. “Your drink looks like it got warm.”

She leaned into me and turned our hand hold into more of a high five. “I don’t really care for kegs, Colton.”

I loved how she said my name. No particular accent, but like we already shared something. We were on a first-name basis. I loved it. “I have really good news. If I can convince you to stay, that is.”

Her smile was finally genuine, her eyes involved in the action. “I’ll stay for good news. Especially coming from an angel like yourself.”

I chuckled, glancing down at my costume.

I might have been dressed like an angel, but I was actually a magician.

I transformed Violet from freaking out to smiling.

My hockey captain motivational skills had a use outside the rink, and I was beyond chuffed about it.

“I live here, and we’ve got a whole fridge of drinks downstairs. Wanna follow me?”

She hesitated, and just like that, her smile turned cold. “I should probably take off.”

“No, no. Tell me what you like and I’ll pick it. Or you can come pick for yourself. No tricks. Promise.”

She sniffed in a breath and rolled her lips between her teeth. “Okay.”

I took her hand and tipped my head toward the stairs. “Follow me.”

I led her through the party by her hand, feeling like I’d just won some fantastic prize. Everything worked out. Instead of this pretty girl leaving my house upset, she was staying to have a good time.

Everything always worked out for me.

It was quieter in the basement, faint bass, stomping, and laughter drifting through the floorboards above us. I opened the grimy old fridge door. “Sorry it’s not fancier. But grab whatever you like, and make it two. I’m going to hit the bathroom.”

She met my eyes with a shy, “Thanks, Colton.”

When I came back into the room, she sat on top of our washing machine, picking at the bottle label. Her eyes flicked up to mine, that stunning blue almost stopping me in my tracks. I approached her, leaned my hip on one side of her legs, and crossed my arms. “So.”

“So,” she said, extending a bottle my way. “I got you a cider.”

“Perfect,” I said, cracking the top and clinking my bottle to hers. I watched as she swallowed, the delicate column of her throat working. “Before we go back up there—”

Violet physically tensed and I stepped back. I pointed at her.

“That. That’s what I’m worried about.”

“What?” she asked, looking more afraid.

“You’re skittish. Like I’m going to hurt you.”

She hesitated. “There are some creepy guys at this party. I’m just being cautious.”

I raised my eyebrows. Someone at my party had her shaking and pale? “Who? I’ll throw them out right now.”

She extended a hand to stop me and rushed her words. “No, it’s fine. No one in particular. Sometimes I just want to have fun at parties, you know? Not be bothered.”

“Violet, if someone’s bothering you, I need to know about it.”

She chuckled, and even if it was at my expense, it was nice to see her relax. “Look at you, guard dog. I’m surprised the hair on top of your head didn’t stand up from raising your hackles.”

I smirked. “You can put a leash on me and I’ll bark for you.”

She fully laughed, leaning forward from her perch on the washer before looking back up at me. “Bite the mailman?”

“If the mailman is bothering you, then yes.”

Violet was still laughing when she patted the glitter pipe cleaner halo above my head. “I don’t need all that. But you seem like a nice guy. Maybe we just pretend to have a thing going and then all the other guys won’t mess with me. I can play beer pong in peace.”

I hesitated, my throat going dry. Pretend? It wasn’t exactly going to be heavy labor to pretend to like Violet. She was funny. Witty. But given she was just talking about creeps, I didn’t want to add myself to that roster.

“Unless that’s going to ruin your game for the night,” she added. “I can just go home.”

“No, no. Don’t do that. We can canoodle. I’m a great canoodler.”

“Light canoodling,” she emphasized. “No grabassery.”

I put my hands up. “This angel? Grabassing?”

“I’m sure you’re no saint under there,” she deadpanned.

“How dare you speculate about what lies under my robes, Miss Gennari. That’s not very canoodle-like of you.” I put my cider bottle on the washer next to her and extended my arms to help her down.

Violet’s giggle was tentative when she gripped my biceps. I loved how her eyes crinkled when I lifted her off the washer. “You remembered my last name. It’s not an easy one.”

I laced my fingers with hers and grabbed our ciders with my other hand. “It’s a name worth remembering.”

Violet was an absolute monster at beer pong. Like, scrubbed the floor with guys who played six days a week.

She was also an excellent canoodler. As the evening went on, we got closer and closer. It started with a casual hand on her outer hip. On the first shot she sank, I pecked her shoulder. “Nice shot, babe.”

She shrugged coyly. “Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

Violet held my gaze for an extra second, but she looked up just in time to swat away an incoming ball.

Girl could be a damn goalie with those kinds of reflexes. She wasn’t even looking.

It was my turn to shoot, and in my overwhelmed state, I missed.

“Aw, that’s okay, babe,” she said with a pat to my shoulder. “You’ll get it next time.”

We were so dominant as a team that we never left the table. Violet’s cider was only about a third gone. The friend Violet came with said goodbye before she left for the night, and I was shocked Violet didn’t go with her.

“You’re staying?” I asked.

“I can’t leave while we’re winning,” she scoffed, like I was a simpleton for asking such a thing.

I really liked this girl. I liked her cuddles, her insane beer pong cannon of an arm, and this competitive edge that I never would have seen coming. She was back to what I assumed was her true self, the girl I’d seen behind the glass at my game. At ease, quick-witted, tenacious.

By the end of our fourth game, I had Violet fully caged into the table.

While we waited for the other team to shoot, I wrapped my arms around her waist. She stiffened so quickly that I jolted away from her.

She softened and leaned back against my chest to whisper in my ear.

“Sorry. That felt nice. It just surprised me, I guess.”

I hovered my lips by her ear. “You’re the boss. You call the shots.”

With a sweet smile, she grabbed my wrists, wrapped my arms around her stomach, and nestled into me.

She rested her arms on top of mine, and let out a sweet hum when I hooked my chin over her shoulder.

She held the ping pong ball to shoot and twisted to meet my gaze.

Her eyes flitted between mine and my mouth. Holy shit, was she going to kiss me?

Without letting her eyes leave my face, she sank an effortless laser of a shot. Cheers erupted around the room, but I was still stuck in her magnetic stare with a breath caught in my chest. I parted my lips and wet them with the tip of my tongue.

I wanted to fall in love so badly, to find the person who would stick with me as I moved into the NHL the next fall.

This had to be what it felt like. The eruption of butterflies in my stomach, the drowsy smirk on her face, her sweet scent, the way her body fit so perfectly against me—could Violet feel it too? Now was she going to kiss me?

Right in the middle of my distraction, a ball landed in our third cup.

“Get your head in the game, Jones,” Violet drawled, fishing the ball out of the cup and handing it to me to drink.

The party started to peter out shortly thereafter.

Our goalie, Pete Doyle, had already taken off after his girlfriend started some fight with him.

This was standard operating procedure, so I didn’t think much of it.

Guy was presumably still with Kitty. Mikey and the “nurse” had disappeared.

No one else waited to face us in beer pong.

Our opposition only had one cup remaining on the table, and Violet made quick business of ending that. When the signature plastic thunk-splash sounded for the last time, Violet jumped up into my arms to celebrate.

And I didn’t let her go. Her nose almost touched mine, her hands framing my face. “We did it!”

I was embarrassingly breathless, high on our victory and my personal victory: having her in my arms. Time slowed, and everything around us faded. Bright eyes, full lips, so close to her. I dropped my voice so only she could hear. “Kiss to celebrate?”

Violet’s grin widened with her gentle nod.

So there, in my dining room, in my messy college house with abandoned Solo cups and dropped snacks crunching under our feet, Violet closed her eyes and brought her lips to mine for the first time.

I was wrecked.

I loved kissing girls. I gave girls a good time. But nobody had ever made me feel as helpless as Violet Gennari did.

Her lips were as soft as her vanilla and pear perfume, but what struck me the most was how intensely focused the kiss was. Sweet. Locked in.

I was fucking smitten.

I licked at the seam of her lips, and a husky giggle buzzed into my mouth as she opened to me. Delicate slides of her tongue, taking her time like we had nowhere to be, nothing to do, no one to please.

I groaned into her mouth, taken by her vulnerability after she started the night spooked over something.

Her voice was raspy when I finally plopped her back onto her feet. “I should get going.”

It was like someone did a tablecloth trick, but they sucked at it and all the dishes and glasses spilled all over the place. “What? No! It’s late!”

“I don’t think a sleepover is the best idea,” she said with a pat to my chest. A pat like she gave me when we first met. A pat that ignored everything we’d shared over the last two hours, put distance between us, put her wall back up.

“No, I won’t try anything. It’s just late. I don’t want you walking through campus alone.”

She scrunched her nose. “I’ll make it. Thanks, though—babe.”

“Please,” I begged. “Let me walk you.”

She shook her head with a smirk. “You’re not staying in my bed either, Colton. It was fun playing around, but I don’t do much more than kissing.”

We exchanged a look. A Look, capitalized. A Look that was a revolving door, waiting for me to make the right move so I could catch the opening.

I needed her to feel what I was saying, try to make her believe. I tucked a strand of her shiny brown hair behind her ear. “I have excellent news.”

“Oh yeah?” she challenged me.

I put my lips next to her ear. “I really love kissing.”