Hot As Ice (Concord Ravens #1)

1. Stevie

one

stevie

BEING broke sucks ass.

Excuse my crude language but I am simply fed up.

I’m behind on rent, and it’s really stressing me out. My waitressing job barely pays anything. I’ve been charging everything on my credit card with no idea how I’ll pay it back.

Don’t even ask me about my credit score.

I can’t keep up with anything – not my bills, not my schoolwork, and certainly not the tables that keep filling up in my section with rowdy college students.

I stare at the college students filling up the booths with longing. I’d rather be eating a greasy burger than serving one at this pathetic minimum wage job.

Tips? You might get some good ones if you enjoy being manhandled by drunk idiots.

My boss, Joe, pokes me in the back sharply, rousing me out of my self-pity. “What?” I snap, before remembering he treats me worse and docks my pay when I get fresh with him. He glares at me.

“Go take care of that fucking table,” he growls. “They’ve been waiting for too long. And don’t piss me off,” he adds through gritted teeth. He pinches my upper arm and all but shoves me toward the table where three men just sat down. Prick. At least he doesn’t smack my ass too.

I plaster on a smile and walk toward the table with a pep in my step. Even when I’m enraged, I can still put on a happy face. One of the many things my mom drilled into me when I was a child.

“Nice of you to come over,” one of the patrons says as I approach the table. “We’ve been waiting for fucking ever.”

“Shut up, Ryder.”

The guy named Ryder glares at his friend who told him to shut up. It always amazes me the way males talk to each other. I would never dream of telling one of my girlfriends to shut up. Of course, none of my girlfriends would ever be rude to service workers.

I beam. “So sorry for the wait. We’re kind of slammed tonight. Can I get you started with anything to drink?”

“I’ll have a beer,” Ryder says, pointing at the menu. He’s extremely good looking, but the snarl on his face classifies him as an asshole. I hate assholes.

“Can I see some ID?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I keep my chipper smile on. “Nope.”

“You seriously don’t know who I am?”

I frown. Is he famous or something? I look at his friends.

They’re both remarkably handsome. One of them, the one who told him to shut up, has piercing blue eyes and black hair.

He has high cheek bones, full lips, thick eyebrows, and a perfectly straight nose.

He looks like he could be famous. But Concord isn’t exactly a town with Hollywood celebrities walking around.

I squirm, even though my mom always told me it was one of my worst habits. “Um, should I know you?” I ask Ryder. He has chocolate brown hair that sort of flops over his brow and bright green eyes that are narrowed in disbelief and…anger? Christ, this one’s got issues.

“Ryde,” the guy with the blue eyes and black hair says. “Just shut up and show her your ID.”

Ryder sighs, rolls his eyes, and makes a show of pulling his ID out of a sleek black leather wallet. I check his birthdate and smile. Turned 21 years old only two months ago. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have a Coke,” Blue Eyes/Black Hair says. He holds my gaze for a moment, and something seems to pass between us. Like something in me recognizes something in him. A funny feeling unfurls in my belly, and I force myself to look away.

“I’ll have a beer too,” says the third guy. He’s got dark blond hair that looks golden in the overhead lights and a sullen look to his face. He shows me his ID without my having to ask.

“Be right back, gentleman.”

As I’m putting the order in, Melanie, one of my coworkers grabs my upper arm and squeals. “Oh my god, please trade tables with me.”

“Why?”

“Why? Are you kidding me? You’re waiting on Ryder Storm, Hunter Cruise, and Jamie West right now.”

When I give her a blank stare, she huffs out a breath. “They’re on the hockey team? You know, Concord U’s undefeated hockey team that everyone except you is obsessed with? They’re gods, Stevie. Gods!”

“Mel,” I start.

“Yes, yes, I know you don’t care about sports, but they’re royalty. They run this whole damn town. They’re hot and rich as fuck and I don’t understand how you can be so nonchalant about them coming into this stupid diner tonight when they could be anywhere else.”

As Melanie blabbers on, I run my gaze over the diner, and sure enough, all eyes are on the three “gods” Melanie is currently losing her mind over.

Girls are whispering to each other and giggling, not at all subtly, and some guys are walking over to the hockey table and bumping fists with Ryder, Hunter, and Jamie, and probably saying “good game” or whatever you say to sports people. Gag me.

The bartender slides their drinks over to me and I balance them expertly on my tray.

“So,” Mel says, eyes sparkling. “Trade?”

I hate to disappoint her ‘cause she’s a great coworker and friend, but Joe hates when we trade tables (he runs this crappy diner like it’s his own little kingdom), and I haven’t been on good terms with him lately.

I don’t want to risk his ire. “I won’t trade with you, but you can go ask them if they want some refills later. ”

“Deal.” She squeals and turns away to her own section.

Pasting a cheerful smile on my face, I return to the “hockey gods” table and deliver their drinks, then take their food orders.

Blue Eyes/Black Hair keeps staring at me, and I keep staring back.

Which one is he, Hunter Cruise or Jamie West?

For the first time since I enrolled at Concord University, I wish I had actually paid attention to the damn hockey team.

Whatever. His name shouldn’t matter. I have bigger fish to fry. Like my rent and bills and all the schoolwork I’m behind on. So, why do my eyes drift to his table no matter where I am? Why do our gazes lock too many times for me to count?

The butterflies in my stomach have never fluttered like this.

I’m used to male attention. But I never know what to do with it. I’ve never had a boyfriend. Never felt very strong feelings for any guy I dated. That’s why my reaction to this hockey player is so confusing right now.

Melanie scoots up to me while I’m putting in some orders, lost in thought.

“Okay,” she says in a low voice. “Please tell me you’ve noticed Hunter Cruise staring at you all night.”

So, Blue Eyes/Black Hair is Hunter. Good to know.

I feign indifference. “Really?”

She puts a hand on her hip, giving me a look. “Yes, really. And you’ve been staring back, missy.”

I shrug. “I guess he’s cute.”

Mel gasps dramatically. “You guess? He’s the hottest guy on campus!”

“Hey!” Joe barks, stepping between me and Mel. “I don’t pay you to gossip. Get back to work.”

“Sorry,” Melanie mutters, scurrying away. I don’t apologize, continuing to busy myself with my task. Joe stands there staring at me, then huffs and walks away. Jerk.

As much as I try to ignore Hunter during my busy shift, it’s like there’s an electric current trembling and buzzing between us. My eyes find him time and again, and he’s almost always looking at me when they do. His gaze is unnerving, making my belly flip-flop every time.

Despite the discomfort, I have to check on his table regularly.

And my knees threaten to buckle every time I go up to them. “You guys doing okay?” I ask, feeling extremely self-conscious as I stop by their table. “Can I get you anything else?”

“The check,” Ryder says dismissively. Jamie is scrolling on his phone, but Hunter has his eyes on me and a small, smug smile on his lips.

I bet he knows he’s making me squirm.

Maybe this is all just a game to him.

“Right away,” I say and return with the check a moment later, this time not looking at Hunter at all. I keep myself occupied with my other tables, and the next time I look towards Hunter, he’s gone.

Picking up their bill, my eyes widen at the fat tip they’ve left me. Damn.

TOO MANY HOURS later, I’m ready to faint from being on my feet all night.

It’s late by the time Joe and I are locking up. He makes me close more often than not, but tonight he hasn’t left early like he usually does. I hate spending more time in his gross presence than I have to, but I desperately need to keep this job.

“Night, Joe,” I tell him, and turn away to walk to my car.

“Stevie, wait up.” He jogs over to me. I keep walking, eager to get to my car and drive to my tiny apartment, take a shower, and hit the hay. I really, really don’t want to talk to Joe about anything.

“Hey, I said wait up,” he growls from right behind me. When I don’t stop, he grabs my upper arm and whirls me around. “What the fuck? You think you can ignore me?”

“I’m tired. I wanna go home.”

He gets in my face, baring his teeth. “I want to talk to you.” Still grabbing my arm, he pushes me until I’m backed up against a car. I’m not usually scared of Joe, but something in his eyes makes my breath hitch.

“What do you want?” I ask, willing myself to stay calm.

He leans into me, his breath hot in my face. “I just wanna talk.”

I gulp and turn my face away, but he grabs my chin and makes me face him. “I wanna take you out on a date.”

Ugh. It’s not the first time he’s asked me out, but he has never been this forceful before.

“I don’t date people I work with,” I tell him, keeping my voice even. It’s just the two of us in this parking lot. I’m wearing a tight white t-shirt and the short black mini skirt he insists the female servers wear, and I feel very exposed. And vulnerable.

He leans in closer until his chest is touching mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I flinch. “Please stop.”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he growls. “I just gave you a fucking compliment, you ungrateful bitch.”

His disgusting words make my heart pound. I need to get away from him. Now.

Before I can even make a move, he’s pinned me harder against the car and one of his hands is sliding up between my legs. I clench my thighs.

“Stop it!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, looking possessed. “You’ll let me fuck you or I’ll fucking fire you.”

Gasping, I push at his chest with all my might. It takes him by surprise, and he stumbles, but he’s back on me a split second later. I scream.

His hand comes over my mouth and I thrash my head side to side, trying to bite him. Raising my leg, I hope I can knee this asshole in the balls. But he’s so much stronger than me. He grabs me by the shoulders and slams me back against the car, making pain shoot up my back.

“Fuck off!” I scream. “Let me go, you asshole.”

His hand comes around my throat, and for the first time during our struggle, I panic, thinking he’s going to kill me. His grip tightens and I choke, unable to scream.

My hands come over his around my throat as stars appear in my vision. I claw at his fingers futilely.

Suddenly, I’m on my knees, gasping for breath, heart pounding. My vision is still off, and I don’t have the strength to raise my head. I cling to the ground, trying to get my breathing back to normal, trying to calm down. Tears sting my eyes.

A pair of hands come under my arms and lift me up. Freaking out, thinking it’s Joe, I try to fight him off again. Then I’m pulled back against a strong, broad chest and a gentle voice whispers in my ear, “Shhh, relax, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Whoever is holding me strokes my arm. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

A woodsy, masculine scent envelops me. His cologne. His deep voice keeps whispering in my ear, and against all odds, it relaxes me, and I lean back against his solid form.

“That’s it. That’s a good girl. Just relax. You’re safe now.”

“Who are you?” Tears are streaming down my face now and I sniffle.

“Your knight in shining armor,” he replies, sounding amused.

“Let me go now, please.”

He lets me go and I slowly turn around. My mouth drops as I see Hunter Cruise staring back at me, a smirk on his lips. “You alright, princess?”

“You left hours ago,” I say in shock.

“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was driving by on my way home when I saw the fucker assaulting you.” He puts his hands in his pockets, smirk still firmly on his face.

“Oh.” I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand.

“You’re safe, princess. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not a princess.” His smug smirk annoys me, temporarily making me forget about my earlier terror. I look behind me to see Joe sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, you look like a princess.” Hunter reaches out and grabs a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. I step out of his reach.

He drops his hand. “You need a ride home?”

“No. I have my car.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” I don’t want to get in a car with him, even if he did rescue me. My body is still trembling, but I’m sure I can make the short drive back to my apartment.

“Later, princess.”

I walk toward my car, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

The tremors rocking my body are dying down, but I sit in my car for a few minutes, just breathing.

Finally, I start the car and slowly pull out of the parking lot.

Hunter stands there by his expensive-looking car.

He raises a hand as I drive by, but I ignore him.

Back in my apartment, my roommate Becca is watching a movie in the dark.

I give a quick hello then head to the bathroom. Tonight’s traumatizing incident plays on a loop in my head as I wash my face and brush my teeth. That creep Joe. How could he? I can’t believe he assaulted me, and I shudder to think what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been rescued.

I shake my head. I don’t want to think of it as a rescue, but it was. My “knight in shining armor” coming through just in the nick of time. It was pure dumb luck that he’d driven by the diner again. I feel like I owe him now. Big time.

Trying to calm my racing mind, I redirect my thoughts to what might happen next. I can’t go back to work at the diner. Should I try to press charges against Joe? Go to the police? My neck is red from where he was choking me. I wonder if I’ll have bruises tomorrow. Is that enough evidence?

As stupid as it sounds, I just want to forget what happened and move on.

But as my head finally hits the pillow and my eyes drift closed, all I can see in my mind is Hunter’s gorgeous face.