17. Dirty Dancing
CHAPTER 17
DIRTY DANCING
BAY
B efore we know it, the house is full of people, the beer is flowing and the usual party shenanigans begin.
The dining table is soon turned into a beer pong playing field and I’m out.
It’s funny how up to last year these kinds of parties were totally my scene, but now all I want is to retreat to my room for an early night.
Maybe Cole isn’t the only one who’s “getting old.” Maybe I’m starting to get over the wildest part of the college experience. Or not. I might not be getting in line to do body shots, but what happened earlier in the locker room with Jagger definitely falls in my definition of wild.
What does it say about me that if I were to go back to my room, I’d rather take Jagger with me?
We both know that it isn’t a good idea though, not while everyone is wide awake and not even close to drunk enough to not notice.
So all Jagger and I can do is exchange a few heated looks when we cross paths, but we never spent time together at parties before and we stick to that habit to fly under the radar.
I should probably find my Zeta sisters. I’ve been checking on each of them since we were separated, but it would be good to have a few one on one conversations and make sure that everyone is settling well into their new accommodations.
It’s better to do that sober, so rather than pouring myself a mixed drink or grabbing a wine cooler, I go to the fridge for a bottle of my favorite sparkling water.
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out from behind me. “Could you get me one of those too?”
I turn to glare at Ryker, who’s standing behind me looking infuriatingly sexy in a black t-shirt that clings to his mouthwatering muscles in a way that should be illegal. Don’t even start me off about how his faded blue jeans hug his long, muscular legs. The guy is hot AF and he knows it.
“Didn’t they teach you to say please in South Carolina?” I provoke him.
Rather than being irritated by my tone, his ice blue eyes flash with amusement. “I wouldn’t know, since I didn’t grow up there. I’m originally from Connecticut.”
Like Topher. That immediately rubs me the wrong way, even though it isn’t Ryker’s fault that he grew up in the same state as my ex. “I’m still not hearing a please. It would be the least you could do, since this is my personal stash of water.”
Rather than correcting his poor manners, Ryker offers me an arrogant smirk. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’d drink some expensive, pretentious French sparkling water?”
I close the fridge, without taking a second bottle out. I was totally going to share my water with him, but if he can’t be nice, he can forget it. “I’d say that you’re just as pretentious as I am, since you asked me for a bottle.”
His smile widens. “Well played, Cinnamon. Well played.”
God, he has no business looking so hot. “My name is Bay,” I bite out.
“I gathered that much, Cinnamon.” He provokes me.
“Why do you keep calling me that? I told you it’s not my name. ”
Ryker chuckles. “That’s what I named you in my head at the airport when you refused to tell me your name. I guess in California they don’t teach you manners either, or how to properly make someone’s acquaintance. So you don’t get me to use the name you very rudely withheld from me.”
“Touché,” I grumble, annoyed by the way he’s questioning my manners the same way I did his earlier. “Just FYI, I didn’t grow up in California either.” I inform him, without telling him where I’m from.. “Now since you’re a dead ringer for Emily Post, would you step aside? I need to go outside and you’re standing in my way.”
He doesn’t do what I just asked him.
Ryker actually takes one step closer, forcing me to retreat until my back touches the fridge door.
“In a minute,” he drawls, placing a hand on the chrome door of the fridge, on one side of my head. “I just wanted to talk to you, Cinnamon.”
He’s standing so close that our chests are almost touching. I can feel the heat radiating from his fit body; his spicy, masculine scent is making my skin break out in goosebumps.
“We have nothing to say to each other.” I argue, more because I’m pissed off that he affects me so much, than because I don’t like having him so close.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he says, the arrogance completely gone from his tone. “You left me in that aircraft bathroom and when we landed, you vanished before I could talk to you. I thought I was never going to see you again.”
I don’t say anything. I had thought the same thing before I realized who he was.
“Bay,” he pleads, using my name for the first time. “Please say something.”
My gaze is fixed on his left pec. Looking into his eyes makes it too hard to gather my thoughts enough to have this conversation with him. “What do you want me to say? The second we crossed paths, you’ve been so rude. It’s obvious you and I don’t like each other.”
I shouldn’t be surprised when he disagrees.
“That’s bullshit. I don’t know about you, but I’m just playing. You’re funny when you get worked up. But we both know it’s just a bit of banter. I think we liked each other just fine in that bathroom, I?—”
Yeah, no. We’re so not going there. “That was a momentary lapse of judgment on my part. I was on my third flight in twenty-four hours, my journey had started in France. Isn’t it crazy what jet-lag makes people do?”
I don’t know if I’m asking that question to him or to myself.
It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t let my words distract him. “We both know jet-lag has nothing to do with what happened. There was an immediate spark of attraction between us. And before you start making up excuses, I know you felt it too.”
I did.
To the point that if he hadn’t used a hockey metaphor, I would have let him fuck me in that aircraft toilet. Or at the very least I would have let him finger me.
“What I might have felt doesn’t matter,” I say, opting for the truth. “Now that you know that I used to go out with Topher, I’m sure you understand why I have a rule against dating hockey players.”
He doesn’t look satisfied with my explanation. “First off,” he scowls. “I wasn’t talking about dating. I don’t date. But if you took the time to get to know me, you’d see that I’m nothing like your ex. He used to be a douche back in high school and from what I can see, he got even worse with time. What were you thinking about dating him for three years?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a long story. Topher has a good side too and when he decides to show that side, he’s a completely different person. ”
Ryker considers my words.
“So why are you judging every hockey player based on his actions?”
That’s a good question; one I’ve been asking myself during the long, lonely weeks I spent on Luca’s yacht.
“Because I realized that Topher might be a douche, but the environment you guys live in has a lot to do with how my relationship with him ended. Hockey players are treated like campus royalty, like gods. Rules don’t seem to apply to you guys. You get all sorts of privileges and women throw themselves at you constantly. You have puck bunnies, for crying out loud. Even the great guys like Cole are a walking red flag when you look at them as potential boyfriends. I don’t want to be another notch on another self-important hockey prick ever again. Are you satisfied with my answer now?”
Something shifts in his eyes and Ryker moves to the side, letting me run out to the backyard, away from his sexy and confusing presence.
“Hey, hey,” Cole stands up from the lawn chair he was sprawled on with a girl on his lap. I’ve seen them together a couple of times last year. “Bay, what’s going on?”
He grabs my arm, giving me no choice but to stop.
“Nothing,” I lie, refusing to meet his dark blue gaze. “I’m just so tired of these parties.”
I mean it.
Cole’s expression softens. “Come here, let’s go over there,” he points out to the space on the other side of the pool where a few couples are slow dancing. “You don’t have to hang out with anyone you don’t want to. Let’s make this our own party, what do you say? Dance with me, Bay.”
That sounds good. I let him guide me to the area he just pointed out.
The music is soft here, the lights not as bright.
Cole takes me into his arms and I immediately feel better.
The way I react to his tall, solid body against mine is confusing. On one hand, a jolt of awareness sparks from the needy spot between my legs and makes all my nerve endings come alive. On another hand, this is Cole. My best friend. A guy I adore and would trust with my life. He’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen with his perfect body, his short blond hair, dark blue eyes and features so gorgeous he could put any Hollywood star to shame. But my feelings for Cole are deeper and more complicated than just the fact that I think he’s smoking hot.
He gets me.
We come from similar backgrounds and we both have dreams to better ourselves and to make it big.
Hockey is his card to a different life and my social media empire is mine. We didn’t grow up with money and privilege like Topher and Jagger, we earned everything we had by working our asses off and grabbing every opportunity that came our way. I’m not saying that people born in affluent families don’t work hard to achieve their goals, but let’s face it, some doors are waiting for them to walk through wide open. Money is never an issue if they want to attend a certain school. They don’t get what it means to have those opportunities presented to them on a silver platter.
But the reason why Cole and I are best friends goes beyond our similar backgrounds.
We laugh at the same jokes, we are dog people and we both plan to have puppies one day, way before we ever consider having children.
We would do anything for the people we care about and are fiercely protective of them. In an ideal world, Cole would be my other half, my perfect match. If he felt attracted to me, that is.
I know unfortunately he doesn’t feel that way about me. I had that hunch many times in the past but what happened at the rush fair a couple of weeks ago, cemented that awareness in me .
So when I rest my head on his chest, the feeling that invades me is bitter sweet. I melt against him, listening to his heartbeat.
I feel safe, I feel home.
And at the same time, my body is on fire at the feeling of his warm skin under the thin fabric of his t-shirt.
His clean, sexy scent makes me want to see if he tastes as good as he smells and my nipples harden, straining against my dress.
The way his big, strong hands curl around my waist, pulling me close, could be interpreted as friendly, but we’re dancing so close that I’m hyper aware of his lean, muscular hips. I can feel the definite bulge in his jeans and my body reacts again.
I’m wet, so fucking wet.
I close my eyes, listening to the slow beat of a song I don’t even know and my imagination runs wild.
What would happen if Cole cupped my jaw with his big, slightly rough hand and rather than just looking into my eyes like he’s done countless times, he lowered his head and touched his lips to mine?
I would kiss him back.
I would hold myself tighter to him, exploring his chest and stomach with my hands. I would beg him to take me to his room and to take my dress off me.
God, I want him so much.
I’ve seen Cole shirtless countless times and I would lick every ridge, every line of his six pack of muscles.
I would beg him to kiss me everywhere. I want to feel his soft lips on my skin.
I envy every woman he has ever hooked up with.
They got to touch him, taste him, feel him inside their bodies.
I clench my thighs together at the thought of how big Cole is. I haven’t seen him completely naked, but we napped together a few times and I’ve felt him getting hard in his sleep.
As if he knew how much I need him, Cole pulls me even closer, so that there’s no space between our bodies.
A gush of liquid heat makes me rub my thighs together, desperate for some relief.
I never had the chance to put on any panties after Jagger ripped mine in the locker room shower.
I had promised Cole to be his ride home after the game and some of his teammates joined us. The second we got home they went straight to the kitchen, hungry for their victory chili and I forgot to go to my room and replace my underwear.
Now this is bliss and torture at the same time.
I would give anything to feel his fingers under my skirt, exploring me, touching me the way I want him to.
I don’t even know when my feelings for Cole started changing. I’ve always thought he was hot, but at the beginning of my relationship with Topher, I really only had eyes for my boyfriend.
Dating Topher meant hanging out at the Gamma house all the time, and Cole and I hit it off and became friends.
I guess it was gradual.
I started by appreciating him as a friend who’s also handsome and as he and I got closer and Topher began showing his true colors, my feelings for Cole grew and evolved. I didn’t realize how I felt until last year’s disastrous Christmas break in Connecticut.
Even before I overheard that conversation between Topher and his father, I had found myself wishing I hadn’t gone.
Cole had decided to stay on campus for the break because flights were too expensive and he didn’t feel like driving all the way to the East Coast. Of course he had refused my offer to buy him tickets as a Christmas present. But knowing that he was in the frat house, by himself, I kept wishing I had stayed.
It was strange and disconcerting that I was meeting my long term boyfriend’s family and I couldn’t get my best friend out of my head.
When I was in bed with Topher, every time I closed my eyes, I thought about Cole.
I’m so caught up in my own thoughts, that I almost don’t realize that Cole did lower his head.
“Baby,” his voice is like a warm blanket and I shudder at the way my skin reacts. I wonder if he can see the goosebumps that just appeared on my arms as my skin is begging for his touch.
I look into his eyes, not daring to speak. Right now I don’t trust my own voice. I don’t trust myself not to really beg him to kiss me.
There have been a few moments like this one in the past, where I thought he was about to kiss me. But it never happened and after the way he reacted at the kissing booth, I think I’ve been just imagining things.
His hand cups my jaw just the way I’ve been dreaming of.
He runs the pad of his thumb over the sensitive spot behind my ear and I swear my clit throbs.
I don’t even stop thinking about how crazy that is, because his gaze softens.
Cole’s warm breath fans over my lips and the tip of his tongue comes out to wet his lips.
“Bay, baby, I?—”
His face is so close now that the tip of his nose is touching mine.
This is it.
Cole is about to kiss me.
Maybe living together made him see that we could be more than friends. I don’t care, I?—
“Let’s play a game of musical partners!”
RYKER
These parties are all the same.
Sadly I came to this conclusion after I drank my fill of cheap keg beer and got laid at every single party I attended my freshman year.
Sometimes, I got laid multiple times in the same night and not with the same woman. The bunnies at my old college were very dedicated, that's all I can say.
The novelty wore off pretty quickly though and by last year, I rarely even bothered going out. That was even before that whole mess with my roommate and the coach’s daughter. I had become an inactive member of Gamma Delta Tau way before I became persona non grata when everyone thought I was fucking another brother’s girl.
Then why the fuck am I here?
I’m new on this campus and practically all my teammates are Gammas, so I need to show my face at least for an hour or two to build some team spirit.
I exit to the backyard and accept a beer wondering if I’ve been here long enough and I can call an Uber or even walk back to my off-campus apartment.
Bullshit .
I intentionally ignore the voice in my head as I scan the backyard looking for her.
We both know that building team spirit isn’t why you’re here. You’re here because you knew she would be here .
Yeah, my subconscious nailed it.
I can lie to myself all I want that I had no choice but to come and eat the victory chili.
That would be a lie.
I’m here because I wanted to see her .
Since the moment I bumped into her at the airport, Bay Woods has been living rent free in my head.
I was going crazy when I thought I had lost sight of her without even getting her name. All my hopes were pinned on the fact that Star Cove is a small town and I was already researching all the popular spots so I could “bump” into her again.
I couldn’t believe my luck when I realized that Bay and I go to the same school.
What I could have never imagined is that she’s Cole’s best friend and Topher’s ex.
I’ve been thinking about her so fucking much that it borders obsession.
I don’t know what it is about Bay that drives me crazy with want.
I mean fuck, obviously she’s gorgeous. And we have unfinished business. The way she left me high and dry in that aircraft toilet, gave me the most epic case of blue balls in history.
It’s… everything.
Everything about Bay Woods calls out to me in the most intense of ways.
From her flawless blonde beauty, to her sassy mouth, to the way she grabs the ends of her ponytail when she’s nervous. Her fashion sense, her poise, her kindness. Well, I’ve witnessed that last part when I’ve watched her interactions with other people. Because I think I can safely say that I didn’t make the kind of impression I was hoping for with her.
It’s never happened to me before, to be so obsessed about a woman. I have to constantly watch myself because when I’m in her presence, I feel like I’m always seconds away from doing something dumb.
Like when I saw her again at the rush fair and there was that stand-off between Topher and Cole about who should kiss her .
I was about to grab that golden chip and kiss Bay for all I’m worth.
I’m kinda glad I didn’t do it, because after our last exchange in the kitchen, I’m fairly sure I would have gotten one of her knees on those blue balls I just mentioned.
What I need is a plan to make her see that I’m not like Topher Mumford. That douche and I might come from similar backgrounds, but we couldn’t be more different.
If I had her attention, I would never take it for granted. I would never cheat on her like that idiot did.
With me Bay would only know pleasure and I know for sure we’d have fun together. Because we might clash, but our back and forth tells me that we have a similar sense of humor and if I could get her to give me a chance, we would hit it off.
You have totally lost your rabid ass mind .
I scowl at the voice in my head.
I usually don’t date. My plan for this year was to stay away from women and unnecessary drama, focus on winning the championship with my new team and then get the hell out of dodge.
Plans can change though and the fact that Bay poses a challenge is nothing but a turn on.
I spot her dancing in Cole’s arms.
Those two look awfully cozy and at first, I thought there was something going on between them. I mean, fuck. How can you be just friends with Bay? Unless you bat for the other team—nothing wrong if you do—I doubt there is one man on this campus who wouldn’t want more.
Yet, I think Cole doesn’t see her that way. The guy is always surrounded by hot chicks, so I don’t think he likes men. He’s just really not into Bay that way.
It’s either that or he needs an eye test because when Topher put him on the spot at the fair, he looked positively horrified at the idea of kissing his best friend.
So I don’t let how close they’re dancing bother me. I’m not jealous. I just wish she stopped shooting verbal barbs at me long enough to let me get that close to her.
My mind is made up that I’m gonna ask Bay to dance. As soon as this song is over, I’ll just ask her and hopefully she’s not going to want to make a scene in front of practically half our senior class.
To my surprise, Topher of all people comes to my aid.
“Let’s play a game of musical partners!” The Gamma president yells, getting the freshman who’s DJing from his laptop to cut the music.
“The rules are simple. Every time the music comes to a stop, you have to change partners. If when the music starts again for a few seconds, our DJ has also changed the song, you have to kiss your partner for one minute. You’ll switch partners with the couple on your right. You better not cheat, it has to be a proper kiss, I want to see tongues at work here. I appointed a panel of three judges here,” he says pointing to three guys I don’t know. “They will pick the best and worst kisses. The best kissers will receive a mystery prize, the worst kissers will have to jump into the pool… naked . Anyone who wants to join the game, this is your time to do so. People already on the dance floor, I’m sorry but you’re playing. If you don’t, you automatically lose and will have to jump into the pool naked with the worst kissers. The challenge will last about ten minutes. Good luck everyone.”
I have the feeling that Topher had ulterior motives in choosing a kissing game. If the way he tried to get Bay to kiss him at the fair is anything to judge by, I think he might have told the DJ to stop the music at a certain point; I bet my fucking trust fund and my signing bonus with Hartford that he also knows when the song is gonna change.
I grab the first girl I see and march onto the dance floor with a plan in my head.
Not only am I going to kiss Bay tonight, I’m also gonna make sure she knows I saved her from kissing her ex .
I don’t know what I’m gonna do after that, but I’m confident that when I’m done with her, she’ll want to kiss me again.
I guide my dance partner toward the spot where Bay and Cole are still dancing and I know my hunch was right when Topher grabs Bianca and dances his way toward his ex.
I’m gonna watch him like a hawk and sweep in when?—
“I’m so happy you asked me to dance,” the girl in my arms beams at me. “I think you’re the best center we’ve ever had, better than Topher. I’ve been wanting to talk to you since classes started. My name is Kylie, I?—”
“I just want to play this game,” I interrupt her. “I’m not interested in dating or hooking up or whatever you’re thinking is gonna happen between us. Can you please be quiet so I can hear the music?”
I know I was rude, but I don’t believe in unnecessary social platitudes.
She opens and closes her mouth a few times, obviously trying to decide if she wants to keep dancing with me or tell me to go to hell.
I don’t care much about what she decides because I was right about Topher.
He’s inching closer to Bay and Cole and he’s trying to spin his partner around so that they’re gonna be on the right side of his ex in exactly three, two, one…
“Hey, watch where the fuck you’re going!” Topher yells as I hip check him out of the way just as Kiss Me by the Sixpence None The Richer stops. “You’re in my fucking way, Moore. Move.”
He’s glaring at me and I think I know why.
The music starts and stops again for a few seconds and I nailed the asshole’s intentions, because the song has changed into Kiss And Make Up by Dua Lipa and Blackpink.
I stifle the smile that’s itching to break free from my lips because I’m right where Topher wanted to be .
On the right side of Bay and Cole.
I brace myself for the fight I know is about to erupt when Topher demonstrates that he never learned that in life you win some and you lose some.
“You took my fucking spot, asshole.” He snarls.
Ok, fuck it. I’m laughing now. The poor guy is so obvious, it isn’t even funny.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I shrug, turning to look at Cole. “I believe you and I should swap partners.”
Cole nods but as I already knew, Topher is a sore loser. “No, you checked me out of the way. I’m supposed to dance with Bay.”
Ah, Mumford.
That was the wrong thing to say. Especially since you were dancing with the girl who was in your bed when you were caught cheating. If I have to believe all the gossip around campus, Bianca thinks she’s Topher’s new girlfriend.
Her reaction confirms the rumors I’ve heard.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Topher, did you organize this whole game just to kiss Bay?”
Her glare scares me and I’ve fought guys five times the size of Bianca Williams on the ice.
Topher knows that he fucked up. “No, I?—”
“Then keep dancing. We’re on their left and we have no one on our right, so we aren’t due for a swap.”
I’ll let them figure out the intricacies of the rules to this idiotic game, but I’m all about reaping the rewards.
“Bay?” I offer her my hand and she looks at it as if my fingers had teeth.
“Go on baby,” Cole coaxes her, doing me a solid. “You heard the rules. If you don’t kiss him, you have to jump in the pool. Naked.”
Bay’s exaggerated sigh should offend me, but I know she’s putting on an act to get under my skin .
I couldn’t care less. My eyes are on the prize and I pull Bay closer just as the DJ says that we should kiss our new partner starting now.
I don’t let him say it twice. I’ve been dying to kiss Bay since we were in that aircraft toilet together.
She doesn’t put up a fight. When I pull her closer and bring my hand to the back of her neck to angle her the right way, she comes willingly.
Fuck.
Her lips are even softer than I imagined, and I have to resist the urge to slip my tongue into her mouth from the get go. I’m not fourteen anymore for fuck’s sake, I’ve learned a few things about kissing since then.
I move my lips against hers and the sensation is exquisite. My entire body reacts to the contact of our mouths, to the way her soft breath fans over my lips.
I take her top lip between my own lips, massaging her for just a second, giving her just a hint of pressure. I do the same to her bottom lip, pressing a little more, letting my lips linger on hers.
Bay does exactly what I was hoping she would do and parts her lips for me.
That’s my cue to trace the seam of her lips with the tip of my tongue, waiting her out.
She meets me halfway and when our tongues touch, I know she wanted to kiss me just as much as I wanted her.
I’ve always seen kissing as a means to an end, as the stepping stone for more.
It’s not that I don’t want more—I fucking do—but this is so good, I don’t want it to end.
As our tongues tangle, we explore each other’s mouths but it doesn’t end there.
I know we’re in public but my high school coach used to say “Go big or go home,” so I dare splaying my fingers over Bay’s ribs, inching higher and higher .
She doesn’t stop me, she moans into my mouth when my fingers graze the underside of her perfect, pert tit.
Her reaction makes me bold and I swipe the pad of my thumb over the small bead of her nipple.
Fuck, she isn’t wearing a bra.
This woman will be the death of me, I swear.
Have I mentioned that the little blue mini dress she’s wearing has a zipper closing the front?
All I want is to lower it and see the color of her nipples. I imagine them a pale pink and I’m dying to find out.
I’m dying to do a lot more than that. I want to lick and bite on those pink nipples, feel Bay’s toned thighs wrap around my hips and grind against her. I need her to feel what she does to me.
Because since the second I saw her for the first time after accidentally ruining her lipstick? It takes Bay to enter a room to give me a semi.
Everything about her is hot and now that I know how her lips feel? There’s no way I’m going to be satisfied with just one kiss.
Where’s a good, old game of Seven Minutes in Heaven when you need it?
Give me seven minutes, Bay, and I’ll have you screaming my name so loud it’ll cover the music at this lame party.
Our mouths are still fused together, and I pull her tighter to my body. The hand that was holding her head in place slips down to her back now that I know she’s into this kiss just as much as I am.
I feel the line of her spine, all the way down to the swell of her round, perfect ass.
She has no business having an ass like this.
The music starts again and in theory we should stop kissing and start dancing again, but there’s no way this is happening .
I need to get Bay behind closed doors and take this further. I need to make her come.
My eyes have been mostly closed, but I open them to do a quick check of our surroundings. The pool is right next to us, behind Bay and I spot a couple of wooden changing huts next to an outside shower. That’s the closest place where Bay and I can be alone. I just hope she doesn’t turn me down, that the moment this kiss ends I don’t turn into a pumpkin or something.
“Cinnamon,” I murmur against her lips. “I don’t want to stop kissing you. Do you want to go somewhere where we can have some privacy?”
Her eyes are as wide as saucers, her pupils blown so big that they cover almost all the blue of her irises.
Bay nods, her fingers fisting my t-shirt, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that goes straight to my cock.
I take her hand into mine, letting my eyes feast on her perfect body for one more second.
That dress should be illegal and I can’t wait to see how it’s going to look on the floor.
I’ll let Bay keep her stiletto pumps though, they’re sexy.
Wait a minute.
My eyes are stuck on Bay’s blue high heels. They look familiar but I can’t quite place why.
An image flashes in my lust riddled mind and I remember where I’ve seen those shoes.
Earlier today they were on the feet of whoever blew Jagger in the locker room.
The shower door was too high for me to see the girl who was partially hidden by Jagger’s body, but those bright blue high heels are burned into my mind.
Maybe someone else has an identical pair of shoes.
But how likely is that? They’re Louboutins, I know because I noticed the red soles earlier when I was staring at Bay as she walked away from me in the kitchen .
Those shoes cost thousands of dollars and Star Cove might attract a lot of students from affluent families, but I doubt someone on campus is wearing a pair of blue Louboutins tonight.
Fury replaces the excitement, pumping an equal amount of adrenaline into my system. I’m fucking furious.
Not because Bay gave Jagger a blowjob. I mean, I want to kill the lucky fucker, but Bay doesn’t owe me anything. We barely know each other—something I’m trying to change—so until I get to know her better and stake my claim, she can blow whoever the fuck she wants.
What makes me see red isn’t that she hooked up with someone else.
I’m mad because she hooked up with one of my teammates when the night we met she told me in that aircraft bathroom that she didn’t “do” hockey players.
She repeated that much earlier tonight in the kitchen.
“You lied to me,” I seethe, letting go of her hand.
Bay blinks a couple of times, clearly confused. “What?”
My cock is still painfully hard in my jeans but it’s not just arousal anymore, it’s a lethal mix of lust and fury.
“You clearly do hockey players, it’s just me you don’t want.”
And you know what? She has the right not to want me, it shouldn’t matter how much I fucking want her.
Then why does it hurt so much?
It’s because the attraction between us isn’t just a figment of my imagination.
Bay was grinding against me in that aircraft toilet, she was wet for me.
Just a few moments ago she was kissing me back, moaning and fisting my shirt. Granted, it was a party game, but she was clearly into it.
“You know what, Bay ?” I put all my contempt for girls who play games into her name. “You might not do hockey players, I don’t do puck bunnies. I’ve been burned enough by one of them to want to stay away from them for good.”
My words hit the intended target. “What did you just call me? I’m not a puck bunny, Ryker.”
I don’t even realize that I’m raising my voice. I all but forgot that we’re at a crowded party.
“Coulda fooled me, Cinnamon,” I laugh bitterly. “I saw you today in the locker room. You are the one who gave Jagger his good luck blowjob. I don’t know what kind of fucked up game you think you’re playing, but I’m out.”
The music must have stopped again. I realize that our argument is being watched by pretty much everyone at the party.
“Ooooh.” Someone gawks from somewhere behind me.
Bay’s cheeks are red, her blue eyes blazing with fury. “How dare you talk to me like that? You know nothing about me, Ryker. Apologize.”
I smile, but there’s no mirth in it. “When Hell freezes over.”
Bay is just as furious as I am. “Do you know why I don’t do hockey players? Because you’re all assholes.”
She knows nothing about me. At my previous school I got in trouble just because I wasn’t an asshole and I gave a friend a shoulder to cry on. And she took me for a ride and used me.
“Takes one to know one.” I snarl, wanting to have the last word.
“Apologize, Ryker, or so help me God.” Bay demands.
“What? What are you gonna do, huh Cinnamon?”
I see her lifting her hand to slap me with the corner of my eye and I react faster than lightning.
My fingers close around her wrist and we struggle.
“Let me go, asshole.” She demands.
I’m about to do it but she shoves, trying to free herself from my grasp. That’s the exact moment when I let go .
The look of shock in Bay’s eyes must be identical to my own as she loses her balance.
Her high heels lose purchase against the tiled floor by the edge of the pool. She spins her arms to try and regain her balance, her luscious lips open in a surprised “o.”
That’s when I realize that she’s going to fall in.
I swear I attempt to grab her, but it’s too late.
I watch powerless as Bay Woods lands into the Gamma house pool with a huge splash.