14. Fourteen
FOURTEEN
J ax
I stare into my locker, my jaw ticking under the pressure of my clenched teeth. That little menace dyed all of my practice jerseys pink. Not just any pink either. Neon pink. My retinas burn looking at them because they are so bright.
I rip one out of the locker and pull it on over my pads. The team has already seen them, but I know they are all waiting patiently for me to show up on the ice in one.
Before I head out, I open up my text thread with Harley.
Me: You will so fucking pay for this one, doe eyes.
Her reply is instant.
Blonde Bombshell: I have no idea what you’re talking about, hockey jockey. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice or something?
Me: Or something. Those cheeks of yours are going to be so pink. Almost as pink as these jerseys. *wink face emoji*
Dropping my phone into my locker, I grin knowing that her face is flushed from my response. I turn and head out of the locker room. As soon as my skates touch the ice, laughter erupts all around me.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up assholes,” I grumble, gliding to the center of the ice.
“I think Harley is the best thing that’s ever happened to this school,” Quinton says. Fucker is smiling so big that I can almost see his molars.
“Careful there, Quin. Your jerseys might be next,” I muse.
I hear the distinct snap of a camera phone shutter. Turning my head, I find none other than Coach Anderson holding her phone up. She’s laughing as she points to her screen, showing the head coach, Coach Tyson and our team doctor Caleb Hayes. They are all laughing along with the rest of the team.
I point a gloved finger at them, “The three of you better not put that on the school website.”
Coach Anderson smiles wide. “Oh, Stone. That’s exactly where it’s going.”
Harley Jules Thomas, you are in so much trouble.
I walk into the cafeteria on Friday. I still haven’t gotten Harley back for the pink jerseys. Something I’m going to rectify this afternoon while she is in the library.
Ross and I are the only ones from the team in the cafeteria. We sit at the table across from Harley and Alicia. I watch as Harley animatedly tells Alicia something, making them both laugh. When Harley laughs, she laughs with her whole body.
“Are you even listening to me?” Ross asks, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“Hmm? Yeah. What?”
“Fucking hell.” Ross pinches the bridge of his nose. “I was talking about the full moon, you love sick moron.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “What about the full moon?”
“It’s on Sunday. I was planning our run out. Something you’re supposed to be doing, alpha.”
I rub the center of my forehead. “Right. Sorry, I’ve just been a little preoccupied.”
“Yeah, man. I know. That’s why I planned it out for you. I’ve got your back. You know that I do,” he tells me.
“Okay. Tell me again, I promise that I’m listening this time.”
“The sun sets at eight and then rises again at five. I figured we could drive up to Ridge Mountain this time. The guys get a little grumpier when we run in the smaller woods during the long moons. Being in the mountain, that gives us hundreds of miles to run through,” Ross explains.
“That sounds good, we can drive up there and hike into some deep territory. Wear clothes that we can either abandon or come back for another time.”
Harley and Alicia stand to leave. I let Harley see my eyes on her. A beautiful flush touches her cheeks and she fights the smile pulling at the corners of her lips. I wink at her before turning my attention back to Ross.
“That’s a great plan, Trip. Let the rest of the guys know and we will head out about four-ish on Sunday,” I say, clapping my hand on his shoulder.
“Will do. Where are you headed off to?” He asks as I stand.
“I’ve got a date with a dorm room and six rolls of wrapping paper.” I grin.
He shakes his head. “The two of you have no shame in the game you’re playing.”
“Absolutely none, brother.”
It takes me roughly two hours to wrap everything in Harley’s dorm room. The only thing I don’t wrap are her clothes and her shoes. Mainly because she has a fucking lot. I’m honestly not even sure how it all fits in her closet and her dresser.
I step out of her dorm room and when I go to head down the hall, blonde hair tickles my chin just as Harley’s body collides with mine. My hands grip her biceps to steady her. I hear muttered fruit curses leave her mouth. She looks up at me, blue doe eyes wide.
“Zayden?” My name sounds so good falling from her lips.
“Davidson,” I murmur.
“Why were you in my dorm?” she asks.
“Thought you might have come back here after lunch. Came to give you your pencil bag back.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Really?”
I point a thumb at her door over my shoulder. Hanging on it is a grocery bag with her pencil bag inside. She looks around my body, noticing the bag. The surprise is evident on her face.
Her pink lips part, but I cut her off. “But since you’re here,” I say softly.
My hands find her hips and I back her up against a wall. Her cheeks start to turn that beautiful shade of pink. I can hear her breathing pick up along with her pulse. The small gasp that leaves her mouth, followed by her pupils dilating, has my cock twitching in my jeans.
“You know,” I murmur, placing one arm above her head. “I can’t seem to stop thinking about that kiss.”
“Oh,” she breathes.
“Think we can try it again, Davidson?”
“Umm, y-yes.”
I hover my mouth over hers. “Okay,” I breathe, my lips brushing hers softly.
“Okay.”
Her tongue pokes out to wet her lips, and with her mouth so close to mine, she wets mine, too. That’s all it takes to have me pressing my lips to hers. She sighs, parting her lips for me and I slowly slide my tongue into her mouth. This kiss is different from our first one. Harley’s moves are more confident.
Her tongue wraps around mine, coaxing the flame of the inferno that’s been lit between us. I press her into the wall harder with my hips, pinning the bulge in my pants between us. Her hands come up, sliding along the scruff on my jaw and into my hair. Her fingers tangle in the strands, pulling gently. I groan into her mouth and pin her bottom lip between my teeth.
“Jax,” she breathes out.
I lift her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist. I slam her back against the wall, just hard enough to make her breath catch.
“Nuh-uh, pretty girl. I like the way my name sounds coming from your lips. And one of these days, I’m going to have you screaming it.”
Harley drops her hands to my chest. Her heavy-lidded eyes look up at me. Her lips are perfectly swollen and glossy from kissing me. “You should put me down, hockey jockey.”
A hum vibrates my throat, but I relent and slowly put her back on her feet. She’s so much shorter than I am. The top of her head barely touches my chin.
Taking a step away from her, I give her a smirk and say, “Watch out for papercuts, doe eyes. They can be a serious hazard during the holidays.”