Chapter 7
I've watched hockey games my whole life, but never like this.
"That's his aggressive stance," Maddie explains from beside me in the WAGs section. "See how he's tracking number twenty-seven? He's been targeting Grey all night."
I lean forward, watching Knox glide across the ice with deadly grace. Even with all the padding, I can read the tension in his shoulders. The way he positions himself between Greyson Cress and the opposing player.
"He's protecting him," I realize aloud.
"That's his job." Maddie winces as Knox slams someone into the boards. "He's the enforcer. Makes sure no one takes liberties with our guys, especially the center."
The game moves fast – faster than on TV. Bodies collide, sticks clash, the puck barely visible as it flies between players. But Knox is easy to track. He's always moving, always watching, a predator waiting to strike.
Then it happens.
An opposing player catches Ace with a high stick. Blood spatters the ice. Before the whistle even blows, Knox is there.
The fight is brutal and beautiful. Knox moves with the same fluid precision he brings to everything else, but with an edge of violence that makes my breath catch. One punch, two, three – the other player goes down hard.
"Jesus," Sawyer mutters. "Your boyfriend's scary."
But I can't tear my eyes away. Can't ignore the heat pooling low in my stomach as Knox skates to the penalty box, somehow looking regal even with blood on his knuckles.
He catches my eye from the box and winks. My whole body flushes.
"You okay?" Maddie nudges me. "You look a little–"
"Good!" My voice comes out too high. "Just… intense game."
She smirks knowingly. "Just wait for the post-win celebration. Kappa Pi gets wild after home games."
Two hours later, I understand what she means. The place is packed with players and fans, riding the high of a 4-2 victory. Knox hasn't left my side since we arrived, one possessive hand always somewhere on my body – my waist, my hip, the back of my neck.
"Another round!" someone calls, and shot glasses appear like magic.
"Having fun, Princess?" Knox's lips brush my ear, making me shiver.
Before I can answer, a guy in a hockey jersey appears beside us.
"Great game," he says, but he's looking at me instead of Knox. "You must be new. I haven't seen you here before."
I feel Knox tense behind me. "She's not."
The guy ignores him. "Need something to drink?"
"She has a drink." Knox's hand tightens on my hip. "And a boyfriend."
"I was asking her."
Something dangerous flashes in Knox's eyes. I put my hand on his chest, feeling his heart race.
"Sorry," I tell the guy sweetly. "I only drink what my boyfriend gives me."
To prove it, I turn in Knox's arms and pull him down for a kiss. He responds immediately, turning it filthy in a way that leaves no doubt who I belong to.
When we break apart, the guy is gone.
"Possessive much?" I mean it to sound teasing, but my voice is too breathless.
Knox's eyes are dark. "Want to get out of here?"
Yes. God yes.
"What about the team?"
"They'll survive." His thumb traces my lower lip. "I have other priorities right now."
The walk to his house feels endless. The moment his door closes, he has me pressed against it, mouth hot on my neck.
"Do you know," he says between kisses, "how fucking sexy you looked watching me fight?"
I arch into him. "Yeah?"
"Saw you in the stands." His teeth graze my pulse point. "All flushed and squirming. Did it turn you on, Princess? Watching me hurt someone?"
"No," I lie, but my body betrays me when his hand slides under my shirt.
He laughs darkly. "Liar." His fingers trace the edge of my bra. "Tell the truth and maybe I'll give you what you want."
"I..." His thumb brushes across my nipple through the lace and I gasp. "Yes, okay? It was hot. You're hot. Happy?"
"Getting there." He kisses me properly then, deep and demanding, while his hands map my skin.
I lose track of time, lost in the feel of him. At some point we make it to his room, me straddling his lap while he teaches me exactly what that wicked mouth can do. My shirt disappears. His hands are everywhere.
"Knox," I whimper when he finds a particularly sensitive spot on my neck. "Please..."
"Please what?" He pulls back to look at me, pupils blown wide. "What do you want, Princess?"
You. Everything. More than we agreed to.
The thought hits like cold water. This isn’t like last time when I was feeling rebellious.
"I should go," I say suddenly, scrambling off his lap. "It's late and I have an early class and—"
"Kenny." He catches my wrist. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing! I just..." I can't look at him or I'll lose my nerve. "This is getting too..."
"Too what?"
"Too real," I whisper.
He drops my wrist like it burns. When I dare to glance at him, his expression is unreadable.
"Right," he says flatly. "Can't have that."
"Knox—"
"No." He stands, putting distance between us. "You're right. It's late."
I gather my shirt with trembling fingers, feeling his eyes on me as I dress. The walk of shame to his door feels endless.
"Kenny." His voice stops me with my hand on the doorknob. "Next time you want to play with fire? Make sure you're ready to get burned."
I flee before he can see how much that threat hits home.
Sawyer's waiting up when I get back to our room.
"Holy shit," she says, taking in my appearance. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing." I head straight for the shower. "Just... Knox being Knox."
"Uh huh." She follows me to the bathroom. "And those hickeys on your neck are nothing too?"
I slap a hand over my throat. "He didn't..."
"Oh, he did." She leans against the doorframe. "Several times. Want to talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"Really? Because from where I'm standing, you're falling hard for your fake boyfriend."
"I'm not—" The denial sticks in my throat.
"Keep telling yourself that." She softens slightly. "But be careful, okay? Knox isn't exactly known for his emotional availability. Maddie kind of let me in on the scoop."
I roll my eyes as I turn my back to her. "Good thing I don't want his emotions then."
She leaves me to shower, but her words follow me into sleep. Or would, if I could sleep. Instead I lie awake, remembering every touch, every kiss, every growled word.
Next time you want to play with fire...
I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the lingering ache. This is fine. It's just attraction. Biology. Perfectly normal to be affected by someone who looks like him, kisses like him, touches like him.
I'm not falling for Knox Thompson.
I'm not.
But when I finally drift off, I dream of blood on ice and dangerous smiles and hands that know exactly how to take me apart.
Make sure you're ready to get burned.
Too late. I'm already on fire.