by Doyle, Dawn
It wasn’t long before we’d drank more beer and moved onto shots. Laughter burst out of me, the smallest thing hilarious, and as my buzz increased, my cares diminished. I was, finally, having a good time. Not once had I ran into another team member, and I was grateful. Nothing was allowed to ruin the enjoyment, especially thoughts of the others who were somewhere around.
“I love this song!” I yelled over the music, swaying my denim covered hips to Dua Lipa’s Don’t Start Now. My skirt was a respectable length, not short enough for Daria’s standards, but I was comfortable with the mid-thigh hem.
“Me too!” Daria replied. “See? I knew you’d loosen up after a while.”
And I had. “I need a drink!”
As if right on cue, Cash brought over two red cups, his own dangling from the rim between his teeth. “Slow down, I don’t want my girl too drunk.”
“Never,” she purred, leaning into him. Their lips met, and a satisfied smile spread across her face.
Cash brushed Daria’s blonde hair back over her shoulders, the styled waves falling down her back. His lips brushed over her bare shoulder, then toward the thin straps of her dress. “I don’t think I can last much longer seeing you in that fucking dress,” he growled.
“Hey, I’m standing right here,” I complained, then burst out laughing when Cash’s eyes widened.
“Shit, sorry, Kai.” He beamed, then pulled away from Daria, giving her one more kiss before releasing her hands. “I’ll just go cool off.”
The pair of us giggled like teenagers, and Daria threw her arm around me. “You know what?” she asked, her alcohol-laced breath blowing across my cheek. “I think you’re going to like the next song even more.”
I paused, then beamed like a crazy person, my eyes widening so much they hurt when the opening bars of Backstreet Boys’ Passionate played through the speakers. “Yes, oh my God, Dar, I fucking love this!”
“Knew you would,” she replied, winking at me. “Now shake that ass, babe, and show them what ya got!”
I threw my arms up, shook my ass, rolled my body and spun around as the boys harmonized, their voices carrying through the room. I lowered my arms and stroked my hands down my sides, the loose, black bat-wing top making my fingers ripple over the pattern. The extra wide neck fell from one shoulder, exposing the wide strap of my hot-pink tank underneath, with more visible through the large holes of the loose stitching.
Some other girls we knew from our classes joined us, and we danced together, the group of girls growing larger and larger as BSB’s song played, unable to resist the sexy track.
I turned around, my back to Daria’s, and I smiled, raising my hands again, my bare arms above my head and my fingers in my hair. I opened my eyes and my smile slipped when I saw him.
Standing on top of the bar, his arms up as though controlling his own crowd, because of course he would, was Maddoc. His blond, layered hair was pushed back over his head, the undercut short as though it was freshly shaved. Gone was his senior-year style that I’d ran my fingers through more than three years ago.
What the hell’s he doing?
Backstreet Boys continued to play, their seductive lyrics and sexy beat pumping through the room as Maddoc circled his body, his hips moving in ways that had me wondering what else he was capable of. I watched as he grinned wide, then seductively pulled his lower lip into his mouth, then slowly released it. He turned around, giving us his wide back, his muscles clearly visible under the dark-red T-shirt he wore. While still moving, his ass pushed back while he rotated his hips around and around, his perfectly toned orbs hugged by his navy jeans.
Girls whooped and cheered when he turned side on, his knees bent, bringing his elbows toward his waist, dropping his chin down, and pushing his fingers into his hair. That’s when he made his next move.
The asshole kept his upper body completely still while he gyrated, grinding, rolling… It was as though he was slowly fucking an invisible person in front of him—smooth, controlled, deliberate; enticing every damn person there.
His head turned a little, his eyes snapping to mine, and I took a sharp breath. I gawked as he licked his lips, then let them part. Exactly as I’d done that night we’d kissed.
Bastard.
My heart rate had doubled, and the heat in the room intensified, my blood pumping so furiously the alcohol hit me more than before. The corner of his mouth turned up, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. My insides tightened, my stomach clenched, and my chest constricted as I fought to rein in the outburst that was on the tip of my acid tongue.
I’m not giving you the satisfaction of seeing me lose it in front of all these people.
I’d done that at Channing’s, and it was a damn miracle the gossip that had gotten back to our school hadn’t reached my family.
I raised my hand, flipped Maddoc the bird with an easy smile, and spun back to Daria. “I need to use the bathroom,” I said, moving closer to her so she could hear me over the excited screams. “Then to get more drinks and go somewhere else.” I didn’t want to be near him, especially as I couldn’t help how I reacted whenever he was around.
“You got it, sister!” she hollered, happily. She took my hand and led me from the dance floor and up the stairs to the main part of the house.
Just before I escaped, I glanced back once and saw him cupping his mouth, whooping loudly, then yelling, “Shots, shots, shots!” before clapping his hands above his head, showing off his defined arms. The last few bars of my favorite band were drowned out by loud bangs and stamping feet.
After that, it became a game of musical rooms. Whenever Maddoc appeared, I disappeared, especially when he had a girl under either arm, strutting around like he was showing off some possession of his.
Willow, I feel sorry for you. Whoever you are, I’m sure you don’t deserve to be treated like this.
***
Pain.
Words couldn’t describe the agony behind my eyes or the thumping in my head. Laundry day was going on inside my stomach, the waste seemingly going up to my mouth with how it tasted. Dry, stale, and morning breath that would have a skunk running for its life.
I smacked my lips together, tasting the grossness all over again. “Oh, god,” I groaned, attempting to open my eyes. Thankfully, my room was dark, the black curtains drawn to keep out the sun that blazed through my window every dawn.
Is it morning?
I checked my clock and saw it was a little after eleven. My weary eyes fell to the bottled water and Advil next to it, then down to the waste basket beside my bed. I smiled as much as my aching and delicate face would allow. I didn’t know how I got to my room, but I was certain of one thing—Daria was an exceptional friend, especially as I was now wearing black gym shorts instead of my skirt.
I took the pills and chugged the room-temperature water that had probably been there since we got back.
I felt like I’d gained one hundred pounds overnight as I tried to lug my heavy legs over the side of the bed. Once there, I moved sluggishly to my adjoining bathroom, keeping the light off to avoid detonating the explosion that was sure to happen in my skull.
I saw to my needs and brushed my teeth, the minty freshness welcome. My hair was a knotted mess, so when I felt around on the counter and found an elastic hair tie, I pulled the tangled tresses into a haphazard bun, then got to work washing the stale mascara from my eyes.
“Coffee,” I croaked. “I need coffee.”
I made my way to my bedroom door, and carefully opened it, squinting against the onslaught of light hitting me from our tiny living room. I’d taken two steps when I froze in place.
My jaw clenched so hard at seeing Maddoc in the kitchen, that the pain rivaled that of my hangover.
He was leaning back against the wooden countertop, still wearing his distressed style jeans from the night before, the fashionable frays and tears showing the tiniest bit of skin on his right thigh and his left knee where his legs were lazily cross
ed at his ankles. I tried not to gasp as I saw his V-neck shirt was clinging to his body, revealing the ridges of his muscles underneath. Images from his erotic dance on the bar came back, the way he’d moved his hips…
Stop it, Kai.
His hand was paused in front of his mouth, a bottle of water unmoving from his parted lips. Wide eyes roved over me, lazily moving from my head, down to my bare feet, then back up.
I looked down to see what he was gawking at, seeing my baggy pink tee that barely covered the shorts. “Put your eyes back in,” I snapped when his gaze dropped back down to my naked legs. I tried not to heat under his continued gaze, but my traitorous body refused to co-operate. I blinked a few times, then lifted my hands, waving them back and forth a little. “Actually, what the hell are you doing here?” He jerked his chin toward the beige couch where a pillow lay on top of a folded blanket. “You stayed?” My voice rose too much for my ears, making me wince at the pitch. I fisted my hands at my sides, my increasing anger coursing through me, creating tremors so bad my entire body was shaking.
“Yup,” he replied, popping the ‘p’ as though it were nothing.
“Why the fuck would you stay here?” I asked, gesturing to the couch again. The three seats wouldn’t exactly be comfortable for somebody of his size.
“Cash.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder as he nodded in that direction. I looked back and saw Cash coming out of Daria’s room—a normal occurrence—but Maddoc’s presence was definitely not. “The prince awakes.”
“Morning, man,” Cash said, his voice gruff. His mouth stretched open in a massive yawn and he ran his hands over his head and his face.
“Almost afternoon,” Maddoc said with a smirk. He glanced to me, then back at Cash. “Dar still sleeping?”
Cash nodded. “She’ll be up soon, though.”
My head whipped back and forth between the two while they spoke as though this was fucking normal. My incredulous expression was ignored, my open mouth and furrowed brow completely passing them by.
Maddoc took a long swig of his water, and I didn’t miss how he focused on me while he tipped his head back to drink.
“Can you just leave, please?” I asked, gesturing to the door.
Cash turned to me. “Kaia, don’t be mean,” he said, his tone bored as though I did this every day. I kinda did, but still…
“I’m not!” I fired back.
Maddoc raised his brows and nodded. “Yeah, ya are.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and rested my other hand on my hip, silently counting to five so I wouldn’t yell. I was in too much pain to raise my voice any further.
“What’s going on?” Daria asked roughly, her appearance almost as bad as mine. She tied her white robe around her waist, covering her old Lions jersey she’d kept. “Why are you yelling, Kai?”
Not answering her, I pointed at Maddoc, my finger visibly shaking. “Look, I don’t want your girlfriend coming screaming at us, thinking something happened when she finds out you were here.”
Maddoc narrowed his eyes, confusion marring his amused expression. “What?”
I scowled hard, my lips thinning tight. “Oh, you heard me.”
He held up a hand and twisted his torso, placing the bottle of water down. I couldn’t help noticing how his muscles flexed when he moved, or how his shirt sank in between the ridges of his abs when he turned. “You’re safe, Kaia. Nobody’s gonna come screaming because of me.” Mischief danced over his features, a slow smirk tugging at his full lips. “Well, definitely come screaming in a different way.”
I closed my eyes and lifted my palms. Bile rose to my throat. “Just stop, Maddoc. I don’t need to hear that, thanks.”
He smiled. “So, you do know my name?”
“What?” It was my turn to be confused. The alcohol I’d consumed must’ve hit me harder than I thought.
“My name,” he repeated. “You never say it.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I haven’t had the need to speak to you.”
He mirrored my movement, and as much as I told myself not to, I failed and took notice of how his pecs bunched and his biceps contracted. “And why is that?” he asked, his head cocking to the side. Cash’s and Daria’s eyes were bouncing between us. “I mean, we have a class together.”
I snorted a dry laugh. “We don’t sit near each other and, again, no need to.”
“Hmm.” His lips pursed, making a pout which emphasized just how proportioned his lips were.
I huffed out a short breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Maddoc tilted the tiniest bit forward. Even though he was across the room, his movement had me leaning back. “Just that.”
“You’re exhausting.”
He shrugged a rounded shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Ugh!” I threw my hands up in exasperation, then slapped them down against my sides.
Maddoc grinned, showing a set of teeth a dentist would worship. When it relaxed, a genuine smile forming, my heart skipped a beat, weeping inside at the way he was looking at me, like there was something amusing him, but not maliciously. Maddoc Dass was staring like he’d just discovered a secret that I’d never told anybody about, not even my best friend. But that was ridiculous.
“Okay,” Cash said waving his hands. “If you two have quite finished flirting with each other, can I make coffee?”
My jaw could’ve hit the damn floor with how far it dropped. Heat flooded my cheeks as my eyes near bugged out of my head. “We weren’t, I wasn’t…” Maddoc raised a single brow, his smile still holding. “You know what?” I asked, then looked pointedly to the couch. “Just get whatever the hell you brought with you, and go. I’m going to get a shower, and you better be gone when I’m done.”
Maddoc’s smile dropped in an instant, a coldness falling over his features. Raising two fingers, he saluted me, then padded across to the couch. He snatched up his white footwear, and left. The three of us flinched at the sound of the slamming door, the bang echoing in the deadly silence that had fallen.
“What’s gotten into you?” Daria asked, moving to stand in front of me. “Maddoc gave us a ride home last night. The least you could do is thank him.”
“I never asked—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Cash cut in. “He offered, and to get you two home safe, I accepted. Fuck, he even carried you up two flights of stairs and to your bedroom after you’d fallen asleep in the back seat.”
When I looked at Daria, she reached for me before I could say anything. “He left so you could get changed, and I stayed and helped you. He was the perfect gentleman, babe, I swear. He only came back in to put the water and pills on your nightstand, and got the waste basket in case you threw up.”
Great, now I feel like a complete shit.
Chapter 5
Maddoc
Weekends were supposed to be a time for rest, and when I could see Willow, but obviously not for us. We’d been training for three hours in the morning, then another hour of passes practice in the afternoons.
Just the same as today. This morning was hard going with the entire team playing off against each other, trying to curb our enthusiasm for slamming into our opponents because if we took a bad shot, it had the potential of weakening our play. Coach had us paired up, passing the puck back and forth, making us hit a perfect fucking straight line. Like that ever happened during the game. It was fast paced, erratic, and unpredictable. Passes like this rarely existed when we were playing, but he wasn’t having any of it.
Thwacks and whooshes, along with the grunts of the guys, echoed around the open space, ricocheting and hitting us from all angles.
“This. Sucks,” Cash ground out as he hit his puck back to Jonah. “It’s a waste of fucking time.”
“You need accuracy!” Coach boomed. “You were lucky this morning, Blakely. Your passes were sloppy, your precision didn’t fucking exist, and it was a miracle if you were on target with your hits!” Cash glared hard at him, his jaw tense. “
Not just you, but almost the entire fucking team.”
“What crawled up his hairy ass?” Channing asked.
“How do you know it’s hairy?” I threw back with an arched brow.
“Fuck you, you know what I mean,” he replied, reaching over and whacking me on the arm with his stick. “The prick’s got a problem with us today.”
“Yeah, and you’ll no longer be part of that problem if you don’t quit running your goddamn mouth, Duval,” Coach yelled. “Keep testing me, and you’ll see what’ll happen to you.”
“Kiss my ass,” Channing mumbled.
“Your hairy ass?” I threw in for shits and giggles.
“You’d know—you’ve seen it often enough,” Channing retorted.
“Please, don’t make me think of it again. I’m still traumatized from last time.”
“Fuck off,” Channing said through a laugh. “You love my ass—you all do.”
Coach beckoned us with his hand. “Bring it in.” We skated over and stopped by the bench, waiting for everybody to gather around for what he was about to say. He blew out a long breath and raked his hand over his gray and brown curls, then over his aging face. “It’s not time to get comfortable, guys. Train like you’re at the bottom, and play like you’re at the top.” Before we could say anything, he continued, gripping the rail as he did. “Right now, and since the game against the Cats, you guys have been doing the reverse. You might’ve destroyed the Wings, but you’re getting too comfortable, too placid, too sure of yourselves. Yeah, you might be the shit right now, but there’ll come a day when you’re tested beyond your limits. The other team are going to be better, faster, and more in synch than you’ve ever been. Most of you have already been drafted and are just waiting to be signed after graduation. If you fuck up, you’re gonna miss your mark and end up being a free fucking agent.” His jaw tensed. “Do you have any fucking idea the competition you have as a free agent?”
