2. You Snooze, You Lose
CHAPTER 2
YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE
BAY
U gh.
Why is it that the hottest guys are always the worst assholes?
I swear to God, I just bumped into the hottest, most infuriating human being I’ve ever seen.
Remember how I was saying that sometimes the universe finds every way to remind you that Murphy’s Law is real?
The fact that the most gorgeous guy I’ve seen in a while happens to be an intolerable asshole, must be one of those signs.
I sure hope he isn’t on my flight because the stilettos I put on, following my nana’s motto? I had to fight the urge to jam those where the sun don’t shine at the arrogant, rude way he just talked to me.
It’s better for his own good if I never see him again.
For the few infuriating moments I did lay eyes on him though? Holy smokes.
The guy had the body of a God. Tall, way over six feet, and it was impossible to miss his broad shoulders, the rippling muscles in his arms, his ripped chest, trim waist, and long legs .
I could bet the entire six figure balance of my bank account that under that designer t-shirt, he had a six pack.
But it wasn’t just his perfect body that attracted my attention. The hot but rude stranger had short, soft looking dark brown hair and the most mesmerizing pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
Not the mysterious dark blue of Cole’s eyes but a really light blue, almost translucent; an ice blue.
Cole.
The thought of my best friend steadies my nerves. With Lakyn moving three hours away to Bridgeport to follow her men during their rookie season, Cole is the only person I’m looking forward to seeing on campus.
I mean, I love most of my Zeta sisters, and some of them have become very close friends, but Cole and I are tight. Almost as tight as me and Lake.
So tight that sometimes I wish he liked me as more than a friend. But that isn’t the way it is between me and Cole. He doesn’t do relationships, too focused on getting his degree and going pro. He’s the best D-man in the league, and after the Cove Knights’ Frozen Four win, he was drafted by the Hartford Heroes. There’s no way he would want any distractions now that his dream is within reach.
Besides, he gets so much action with his hookups that his playboy reputation rivals Luca’s; before Luca fell for my sister, of course.
So there’s no chance of anything happening between me and Cole and maybe it’s for the best. Not just because we’re BFFS, and our friendship is worth more than any hookup, no matter how hot.
After the way my relationship with Topher ended, I decided no more hockey players. Ever.
Those guys might be hot, but they get so much female attention that they aren’t relationship material .
I don’t really blame them. Why commit to one person if you’re young, hot, and a hot commodity?
That’s always been Cole’s belief.
Obviously my ex felt the same way; he just neglected to tell me that. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind for over two years. Lake told me that Topher hit on every girl in sight whenever I wasn’t looking, including her. Hearing that was almost more painful than catching him in the act.
In all fairness, Lake had tried to warn me many times about Topher not being who I thought he was. I just didn’t want to believe it.
I saw a caring, gentle side to him that he showed only to the ones closest to him.
I wanted to believe that the cocky, arrogant frat boy was just the veneer he liked to present to the outside world.
Boy, was I wrong.
He also had a drive and ambition that spoke to mine, and that might have contributed to me turning a blind eye to Topher’s many shortcomings.
Once we were both elected presidents of our own Greek chapters, he called us Star Cove’s power couple. A part of me loved that feeling of power, and I guess that’s one of the reasons why I gave Topher so many chances when he started screwing up more often than not.
The bottom line, however, is that I truly loved him.
Well, fuck.
Lesson learned.
No more hockey players for this girl.
My senior year is going to be “The Year Of Bay.”
I’m going to focus on myself and my career. Show Topher and his pretentious family what this “middle-class girl” can do.
There’s no way I’m going to let anyone derail me from my plans.
I’m too busy to be chasing a rebound .
The best way to forget someone is to get under someone else.
My own voice echoes in my head as I remember what I told Lake a year ago when she found herself in a very similar situation to mine.
Am I being a hypocrite?
I shake my head. Not really.
My situation is totally different from Lake’s. She had barely even shared a kiss with her ex-boyfriend. Dipshit didn’t believe in premarital sex until he decided to fuck around on her.
I tried sex.
I’m not as experienced as people might think. I have only slept with Topher and with my high school sweetheart. I guess people judge a book by its cover and take my outer confidence as something entirely different.
But the reality is that despite what I said to Lake, sex isn’t this big deal.
At least, not for me.
I tried to like it, I really did. And don’t get me wrong, it isn’t totally unpleasant. I like the closeness. I love to be kissed and held. Things even feel tingly in a good way down there, but this big explosion people talk about?
I’m convinced the “Big O” is a myth. Probably a myth made up and perpetuated by a man.
I think every woman out there says she orgasms because she doesn’t want to admit that she doesn’t.
Because, in Topher’s words, “A woman who doesn’t come isn’t sexy.”
So with both my high school boyfriend and with Topher, I faked it. Every single time.
I felt dirty and dishonest about it, and I read in countless womens magazines that you shouldn’t lie because you’d be doing yourself a disservice. How is your partner ever going to do it right if you don’t tell him what he’s doing wrong?
In theory, sound advice .
In practice? It’s bullshit. How am I gonna be able to tell my partner what he’s doing wrong if I can’t even orgasm by myself?
Before I get a million lectures about DIY, save your breaths. I tried. I tried using my fingers, and I spent a fortune on every type of sex toy on the market, to the point that I’m an expert.
But when it comes to orgasms, I came out empty handed.
So I faked that too, I did a big show of buying Lake and my friends sex toys for Christmas and for their birthdays.
I even called myself “The Orgasm Fairy.”
The only part of it that isn’t an act is that I’m truly sex positive. If you want to do it, if it rocks your boat in any way, be my guest.
Eventually, I want to do it again too. Just not this year and absolutely not with a hockey player. Or with anyone who even likes hockey. I got way too burned by Topher, and I see how much status the hockey team has on campus, how much they get around.
“Ma’am,” the check-in agent smiles. “Here’s your boarding pass. You’re in one A. Have a pleasant flight.”
Awesome.
Now that I’m all checked in and have gotten rid of almost all my bags, I can follow the signs to the First Class Lounge and enjoy a delicious cinnamon roll and a glass of champagne.
I know, a cinnamon roll and champagne sounds like an odd pairing, but don’t knock it until you try it. It’s the bomb.
Once on board, I hope to catch up on some much needed sleep and start getting my body back on track since this is a late night flight, and it’ll be night when we land in Star Cove, despite the five hour time difference.
RYKER
Flying first class is the only way to go.
Call me a snob, but complimentary drinks and an amazing selection of hot and cold food without having to waste time walking around the airport looking for it is worth the extra money for the flight.
Case in point, I’m sipping a glass of top shelf bourbon with ice, and I just finished a warm, gooey, delicious cinnamon roll.
I’m debating with myself if I should indulge and have a second one.
I probably shouldn’t; after all, the hockey season is about to start. But I’m twenty-one and in better than perfect shape. I’ll make sure to run an extra mile tomorrow morning to make up for the extra treat.
And talking about treats, at the risk of sounding creepy, there she is.
The blonde beauty I accidentally elbowed by the check-in desk strolls into the First Class Lounge, rolling a small carry-on behind her.
I smile when I notice that she must have stopped by the bathroom to fix her smudged lipstick.
Another thing I don’t miss is her eye roll and the little annoyed sigh she emits when she spots me.
The lounge is almost empty, and I can’t say I’m surprised when she makes a big show of walking all the way to the opposite end of the room, picking the farthest seat from me she possibly can. A little further than that, and she’d be sitting on the tarmac.
I’m not worried though.
We’re going to be on the same flight and in the same section of the plane. I have more than five hours to remedy the poor first impression she got of me.
Right now, my eyes are on the prize, and I walk to the buffet to grab the cinnamon roll that’s been occupying my mind just as much as the blonde stranger.
I notice her walking toward the buffet from the opposite side and frantically look for a pickup line, anything witty.
Of course, I come up empty. Never something smart to say when I need it.
I’m so distracted thinking about what to say to her that I don’t realize that we’re both reaching for the cinnamon rolls. For the last cinnamon roll on the plate to be precise.
“Oh.” She gasps when my fingers brush hers.
I don’t move my hand on purpose. At this point, I couldn’t care less about the cinnamon roll, but the contact with the woman’s perfectly manicured fingers does something to me on a physical level.
It doesn’t just go straight to my cock—I mean, fuck, it does—all the fine hairs on my body stand at attention in the best possible way. It’s almost like our skins are meant to touch.
I’m about to let her have it; I don’t really need a second one and maybe this is the chivalrous gesture that could break the ice.
“Hey,” she frowns. “I saw it first.”
Don’t ask me what it is, but instead of letting her have it as I planned, I tug on it, snatching it out of her hand.
Man, the look on her face.
Those pouty lips look softer than the cinnamon roll in my hand. My favorite thing though, is the fire in her blue eyes.
“You might have seen it first,” I chuckle. “But you didn’t act fast enough. You snooze, you lose.”
Come on, hot stuff. Ask nicely, and you can have the cinnamon roll.
“Give that back.” She demands.
This is too much fun.
“What are you gonna give me in return?” I smirk.
“I’ll let you keep your balls intact,” she seethes, her beautiful eyes narrowed into two furious slits. “I’ve had a long journey and I need something sweet. Cinnamon rolls are my favorite.”
“They’re my favorite too,” I argue. “And I bet you’re sweet enough.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
What the ever loving fuck was that? How in the world did I come up with the lamest pick up line of all times?
The disgusted look on her face tells me that she agrees with me.
Jeez, I have zero fucking game. Maybe because usually it takes women just one look to decide that they like me?
The disappointed look on her face is almost too much for me to take. I’m about to concede, the words are on the tip of my tongue, when she begs me.
“Please, would you at least consider sharing it with me? I fell asleep when they served dinner on my previous flight and I’m starving.”
I don’t point out the obvious, that there’s plenty of food on offer on the table.
I don’t even indulge the dirty fantasy of her on her knees, begging for way more than a cinnamon roll, that immediately comes to my mind. The past few months, at school things have been so rough that I hid in my room after practice. The training camp with the Heroes didn’t help, I was always too tired to go out. This means that I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time alone. There’s definitely some truth to the saying that idle hands do the devil’s work. All I’ve been doing alone in my room has been jacking off. I shake my head to banish the image of the blonde hottie on her knees, begging for my cock. It’s obvious that I’ve been watching too much porn.
She’s so beautiful though, I can’t get over it.
The hopeful look in her eyes after she asks if I’d consider sharing gives me an idea.
“We could share,” I smile. “But that’s an oddly intimate thing to do with someone without knowing their name. I’m going to give you half cinnamon roll,” I say, already planning to offer her the entire treat. “If you tell me your name. I’m Ryker and you are?”
She opens her mouth to say something, and I wonder if her name is as sexy as she is. Something like Scarlett or Isabella.
“DAMN, LOOK AT ALL THAT FREE FOOD!”
The beautiful stranger’s response is covered by several loud, excited voices as the first class lounge is invaded by a swarm of men and women in military uniforms.
Chatter erupts from all angles as we’re practically surrounded by soldiers loading their plates with food as if they hadn’t had a meal in a while.
“God,” a brawny guy, with what I’m almost sure is a corporal rank, moans biting into a triangle of club sandwich. “This is heaven. After nine months eating DFAC food, this shit is like Gordon Ramsey made it.”
An older guy scolds him jokingly. “Corporal Bull, I expected better from you. Please find Sergeant Knox and keep your men under control. Let’s not make the airline regret giving our platoon an upgrade to first class. May I remind you that most of our company is on a chartered flight, and they won’t be enjoying this level of pampering?”
The corporal rubs the back of his neck, his head bowed guiltily. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I just got excited. When we were volun-told to stay behind and not fly with the rest of the company, I never expected that we’d luck out on our way back to Star Cove. I’ll make sure everyone behaves.”
I watch the exchange, distracted by the crowd of service members, and my fingers loosen their grip on the cinnamon roll. I don’t even realize that it lands back on the serving plate I just got it from.
“Cinnamon rolls, score!” Someone yells, delighted .
But it isn’t my favorite blonde passenger; it’s someone in an army ACU.
The girl and I watch in shock as the private who just grabbed the last cinnamon roll sinks his teeth into it.
“Why did you drop it?” Hottie seethes. “We were gonna share it, and now there’s no more. It’s almost time for my flight to start boarding, and even if I wanted to go in search of a cinnamon roll—or anything else since the food is all gone—there’s no time.”
She has a point. “I’m sorry. I hope I can make it up to you… what did you say your name was again?”
That irresistible pout of her lips again. “I didn’t say. And after you just lost us our cinnamon roll? You don’t deserve my name.”
Didn’t I just say that she looks even hotter when she’s mad?
“Oh, come on.” It's my turn to low-key beg. “That’s a little harsh. We got off on the wrong foot. Tell me your name; I told you mine.”
A little smile curves the sides of her lips. “Ha, nice try. What did you say a second ago? You snooze, you lose. Sorry, Ryker. You’ve lost your chance to make my acquaintance. I need to go to the bathroom before boarding. See you never.”
I watch her walk away and the only thing that keeps my disappointment in check is that I have five and a half hours to turn this around.