Chapter 11 #2
"Let them see," he muttered, biting my neck. "Let them wonder who the luckiest man on campus is."
He ground his hips against mine. He was hard. So hard. The friction through our clothes was electric.
"You were teasing me," he accused, his voice rough against my ear. "In front of the whole team."
"You liked it."
"I hated it. I wanted to flip the table." He squeezed my ass. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend I don't own you? To pretend I don't know exactly what you taste like?"
"Show me," I whispered. "Show me how hard it is."
He groaned. He moved his hand between us, finding the seam of my leggings.
"We can't," he said, breathless, resting his forehead against mine. "Not here. Not in the library. Security patrols every twenty minutes."
"I don't care."
"I do. I'm not getting you expelled for public indecency. My dad would have a field day."
He kissed me again, slower this time. A deep, drugging kiss that made my toes curl.
"Tonight," he promised. "My room. You're going to pay for the table incident."
"How much?"
"Everything," he whispered. "I'm going to take everything."
He set me down slowly. He smoothed my hair. He adjusted my sweater.
"You're a mess," he noted, wiping a smudge of lipstick from his own mouth.
"You're worse. You look like you just got ravaged."
"I did." He smirked. "By a ballerina with a foot fetish."
He moved the chair from the door.
"Go back first," he instructed. "Wait five minutes. Then I'll come."
"Yes, Captain."
I slipped out of the room.
I walked back to the table, my legs shaky, my lips swollen, my heart full.
Jax looked up as I sat down. He narrowed his eyes.
"You forgot the ice wrap," he noted, pointing to my bag which was still zipped.
I froze.
"Oh. He... he had a spare."
Jax stared at me for a second longer than was comfortable. Then he shrugged.
"Whatever. Did you know bears can run thirty miles per hour? Sharks are screwed."
I exhaled. Safe.
For now.
Two Days Later
The bubble was perfect. Until it wasn't.
It was Friday afternoon. Practice was over. The team was showering.
I was in the Athletic Center, waiting for Ben near the back exit. We had a system. He would leave last, claiming he needed extra treatment, and pick me up in the Jeep.
I was leaning against the brick wall, scrolling through my phone. I had a text from Ben.
Ben: Five minutes. Don't freeze.
I smiled.
"Waiting for someone?"
The voice was cold. Sharp.
I looked up.
Standing ten feet away, leaning against a pillar, was Lila.
She was wearing her dance warm-ups and a look of pure, calculated malice.
"Lila," I said, straightening up. "Just... waiting for an Uber."
"Really?" She stepped closer. "Because I just saw you cancel a ride on your screen."
She had eyes like a hawk.
"I decided to walk."
"In this slush? With that ankle?" She tsked. "You're a terrible liar, Ivy. You always have been. Remember when you tried to tell Madame K you didn't eat the donuts in freshman year? You had sugar on your nose."
"What do you want, Lila?"
"I want to know why you're screwing the hockey captain."
My heart stopped.
"I'm not—"
"Save it." She rolled her eyes. "I saw you. Wednesday night. Leaving the study room. His lips were swollen. Your hair was a mess. And you had that look. The 'I just got railed' look."
I stayed silent. Denying it would only make her dig deeper.
"Does your daddy know?" she asked sweetly. "Does the great Senator Sterling know his son is slumming it with the girl whose family fortune is currently... complicated?"
"Leave my family out of it."
"I'm just curious," Lila shrugged. "See, everyone thinks you're this perfect, golden couple. But I know the truth. You're desperate. You need money for the showcase. And Ben? He needs a distraction from the fact that his dad is buying his career."
"He's not buying it!" I snapped. "Ben is the best player on that ice!"
"Is he? Or is that just what he tells himself?"
She took a step closer, invading my space.
"Here's the thing, Ivy. I want the solo. The Black Swan. Madame K is deciding on Monday. If you drop out... it's mine."
"I'm not dropping out."
"Maybe you should. Because if you don't... maybe I accidentally let slip to the athletic director that Captain Sterling is violating the 'No Fraternization with Staff/Students' policy in the academic center.
Or maybe I tell a reporter that Senator Sterling's son is having a mental breakdown in library study rooms."
Blackmail.
It was crude. It was high school. But it was effective.
If she talked, Ben would be investigated. The "distraction" narrative would be confirmed. His dad would intervene. It would be a disaster.
"You're bluffing," I whispered.
"Try me." She smiled. "Drop the solo, Ivy. Or I drop the bomb."
She turned and walked away, her hips swaying.
I stood there, frozen against the brick wall. The cold seeped into my jacket, but I didn't feel it. I felt numb.
The back door opened.
Ben walked out.
He looked fresh, his hair wet, his bag slung over his shoulder. He looked happy. He saw me and grinned—a real, open grin that made my chest ache.
"Hey," he said, walking over to me. "Sorry I'm late. Coach wanted to talk about the power play."
He leaned in to kiss me.
I turned my head. His lips brushed my cheek.
He pulled back, frowning. He read me instantly.
"What's wrong?" His voice dropped. The happiness vanished, replaced by the alert tension of the protector. "You're shaking."
"Nothing," I lied. "Just cold."
"Ivy." He put a hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Who was here?"
"No one. Just... Lila. Being Lila."
"What did she say?"
"Nothing important. Just dance drama."
I couldn't tell him.
If I told him, he would go after her. He would make a scene. He would confirm everything she suspected.
And he would lose everything.
"Let's just go," I said, grabbing his hand. "Please, Ben. Take me home."
He studied my face for a long moment. He knew I was lying. I could see the questions burning in his gray eyes. But he also saw the desperation in mine.
"Okay," he said slowly. "Let's go home."
He opened the car door for me.
I climbed in.
As we drove away, I looked out the window at the campus. It didn't look bright and colorful anymore. It looked gray. Hostile.
The bubble hadn't just popped. It had been punctured.
I looked at Ben’s hand on the gear shift. I wanted to reach out and hold it. I wanted to tell him everything.
But I couldn't.
Because protecting him meant hurting myself. And I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to do both.
I have to give up the solo, I realized with a sick thud in my stomach. I have to give up the one thing that gets me out of here.
For him.
And the terrifying part was... I didn't even have to think about it.
I closed my eyes, feigning sleep so I wouldn't have to talk, and let the first tear slide silently down my cheek.