Ruthless Player: A College Hockey Romance (Westfall U Series)

by R. C. Stephens

  “Wow, you sure know a lot about us,” I say. For some reason I lose my interest in her, which is douchey I know, but for some reason I like it when Holland doesn’t pay me any attention or hits me up with her feisty comments. She doesn’t make it easy but she sure as hell is intriguing. The minute I have the thought I shut it down. Don’t be thinking of her like that. She’s the past. This girl beside you definitely has potential. Besides, I seriously need to get my dick wet, it’s been over a week, yet for some reason this girl isn’t doing it for me.

  “Yeah, not that much,” she giggles. “Do you have any friends here with you?”

  “Wolfe is here with his girlfriend and her best friend,” I say.

  “Well, my friend is having a party in Nantucket tonight. We need to take a ferry but it isn’t too complicated. You should come,” she says. Funny how she doesn’t tell me to bring my friends. I look out to the ocean. I should go to a party. I need to let loose but I also have to be up at the ass crack of dawn to prepare for another day at the inn. Rebel and Holland made it clear that they want me helping out with meals too, and normally I’d want to tell them to F off, but I can’t because Rebel has become an important person to me because of Wolfe, and so has Holland by default of being Rebel’s best friend.

  I turn to my left to see a chick running along the water. Brown ponytail swinging back and forth. As she gets closer, I see it’s Holland with her long, tanned legs that go on for miles.

  “So what do you think?” the girl beside me asks.

  “About what?” I question, watching Holland as she gets closer.

  “The party,” the girl says like it’s obvious. Fuck, what was her name again?

  “Oh, this is my friend coming along now. Let me ask her,” I say.

  I wave Holland down just as she is about to run past me. She sees me and stops.

  “You run barefoot?” I ask.

  “Ya, why?” she asks, panting out of breath. A light sheen of sweat coats her body.

  “Just that it’s fucking hard,” I say.

  “I like the cold water on my feet, especially in this heat,” she explains.

  “Is she your girlfriend?” the girl beside me asks and she reminds me that she’s here.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Her.” The girl points.

  “Definitely not,” Holland answers.

  Her response pisses me off. “Pfft. You wish.”

  Holland rolls her eyes.

  A guy in board shorts runs up behind her. “I can’t believe you beat me,” he says stopping. He holds his hands on his thighs and tries to catch his breath.

  Who the fuck is he?

  “I told you I can still beat you,” Holland laughs.

  “Some things don’t change,” he says straightening out. He checks her out and then says, “And some things get finer with age.”

  Holland blushes. “You’re ridiculous,” she says to him. This girl is completely oblivious about how good looking she is.

  “Who’s your friend?” I ask.

  She turns to look at me as if suddenly my voice reminded her of my presence. That irks me the fuck out. Girls make me their priority; they notice me. I’m no one’s second thought.

  “Sorry this is Reid Albert. We grew up together,” Holland says. “This is my friend, Cole.” She pauses, looking at the chick beside me.

  I stare at the chick too, willing her name to come to mind.

  “I’m Kat, nice to meet you both,” she says.

  “Yeah.” Reid smiles.

  “Wait a minute,” Kat says. “Aren’t you the guy having the party in Nantucket tonight?”

  “I am,” Reid grins and his smile is wide. He watches Holland with interest. “I was just about to invite you,” he says to her. “My parents have gone to Europe for the summer. I’ve got the house to myself.”

  Hello, I’m fucking here too. The fuck is wrong with me?

  “Oh well, Rebel and her boyfriend are here too,” she says to him.

  “So bring them along,” Reid says. He’d probably say anything to make sure she’s there.

  “Okay, let me ask Rebel. I need to head back to the inn now anyway. We have to start preparing lunch soon,” she informs the guy.

  “As in you’re the one preparing lunch?” he asks her, his tone filled with shock.

  “Yeah, don’t look so surprised,” she laughs.

  “If I remember correctly, your nanny, Mary, prepared everything for you,” he says.

  “She still does,” Holland’s cheeks flush again. “But I’m here helping out a friend and doing all the domestic stuff has kind of been eye opening.”

  His eyes widen and he laughs. “I’m sure it has. I’ll follow you back to the inn. I’d love to say hi to Rebel,” he says.

  Holland walks off without a side glance to me. Truth is, I need to get back too. I don’t want to ditch them. Not after Wolfe gave me that lecture this morning about my lack of responsibility.

  I stand up. “I have to get going,” I tell Kat.

  “You gonna come to the party?” she asks.

  I look up at the sun and squint, and then in the distance I see Holland walking with Reid side by side. He’s perfect for her. Bet he’s going to be a doctor or something important.

  “So?” Kat asks.

  “I have to see if my friends are up for it, but if they are then yeah.” I nod.

  “Give me your cell,” she demands.

  “I can get the address from my friend,” I say.

  “I want to make sure I find you there,” she says, and her words are full of innuendo.

  I unwillingly pass her my phone. She goes to my text messages and sends herself a text. Then she takes her phone and responds with the address.

  “Great,” I say. “Probably see you later.”

  “Don’t sound too excited,” she jokes.

  I nod and give her one of my panty-melting smiles.

  I gather my things and head back to the inn. It shouldn’t irk me that Holland was flirting with that dude, but it does. Whatever. I need to push those feelings aside. I try to think of Kat in her little red bikini but it does nothing to get me stirred. My mind drifts to Holland in those short shorts and it’s enough to give me a semi as I walk in the door to the inn. The dude Reid is gone, thank fuck, but Holland is there and my body hums to a rhythm I need to shut down and fast.

  Eleven

  Holland

  “Dammit, Dad, answer the phone,” I whisper staring at my phone screen. We finished serving lunch and cleaning up, and my dad has yet to answer the text message I sent him this morning saying we need to talk. Now he isn’t answering his phone either. It’s possible he’s in the clinic with patients and doesn’t have a moment free, but I know better. When I text my dad, he gets back to me in under an hour, and if he has an emergency, he will ask his secretary to call me and tell me so. I sit and stare out the window. My knees are tucked in close to my chest as I sit on a bench, staring out at people walking down the street. Somehow, I got stuck with the street view while Cole got the ocean view. Not that I was going to complain. I don’t really care. I rub my arms and stare at my phone as the empty pit in my stomach grows hollow. Dad is blocking me out. He’s going to never talk to me again, I can feel it in every fiber of my being.

  Tears swell in my eyes and eventually fall down my cheeks and land on my legs. What a mess. Why can’t he just hear me out? I’m not throwing my life away. I just need a break and I know that internship looked good for my med school application, but I will find something else to do and it will have to be enough. Besides working in an oncology unit was the last thing I needed this summer. It’s hard for me to see people who are sick with cancer because it hits home too much, and I can’t go about my days feeling down all the time. When I do become a doctor, I know it is a specialty I won’t be able to choose. I will my dad to answer but he doesn’t, so I shoot my sister a text.

  Me: How are you and Max doing?

  I don’t expect Paris to answer righ
t away. This time of day she is probably picking up Max from the community center day camp next to where they live in Philadelphia. The knot in my stomach tightens as I think of the way Dad completely disowned Paris when she came home one day in her senior year and told him she was pregnant. I’d never seen Dad look so repulsed. I didn’t believe he had it in him to be so cruel. When Mom was alive, he wasn’t the most loving and warm man. His presence was passive and nonintrusive and as a kid I guess I didn’t know any better. With Mom gone, he became more controlling and passive aggressive. He wanted me to go to Westfall and that’s where Rebel was going so it made sense, and I lived at home even though I was lonely. Mary is great but I wanted him to be a father to me. Now I was realizing that day would never come. If Dad has written me off too, then I’ll need to move out and rent something on campus. And what if he doesn’t pay my tuition? I’ll be screwed. Panic has me feeling sweaty, so I get up and leave my room and head to the bathroom where I can throw some water on my face, which is probably tomato red right now. I pause in my tracks as the door to Cole’s bedroom opens. I duck my head and walk toward the bathroom. I’ve been trying to be polite to him because we are on vacation together, but I don’t want to give him the wrong idea after we got a little too friendly at his house party. Not that Cole would get the wrong idea. Mr. Ruthless Player has quite the reputation on campus. He’s angry most of the time, unless he’s playing hockey or wants in a girl’s pants, but the nice act apparently doesn’t last long once he gets what he wants.

  “Were you going to use the bathroom?” I ask him but I don’t make eye contact, not needing him to see what a mess I am.

  “No, go ahead,” he says.

  I head to the door when he says, “Wait.”

  I pause but I don’t look at him.

  “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” I answer, again I keep my gaze to the floor.

  “You’re not fine. What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “None of your business,” I say, unable to hide my snark.

  He chuckles softly. “What if I want to make it my business?”

  “You can’t,” I say and walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

  I hear Cole huff as the door closes. I brace my hands on the sink and take a deep breath as I stare in the mirror. Shit. I look like hell. My eyes are puffy, my cheeks are red, and my nose is runny. I splash some cold water on my face and take a clean facecloth from a pile beside the sink. I was hoping my morning run would clear my mind, but it hasn’t. I came here to relax, to take some much-needed time for myself, and my dad somehow has the power to make me feel guilty and not enough. I can hear his voice in my head asking, how could I walk away from such an opportunity? And then he would bring up Paris, like she is the epitome of a bad ending and say, “Look what happened to your sister.” Shit, he makes me so angry.

  I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs, but considering this is an inn with guests I refrain. If only I could get my dad out of my head. I take another deep breath. I’ll go down to the kitchen and have one of those chocolate chip cookies Sylvia dropped off with the lunch delivery. She made them herself and they looked ooey gooey good. I swing open the door, ready to walk toward the staircase, and see Cole leaning against the wall. His thick arms are crossed in front of his chest and he looks pensive.

  “What’s going on?” he asks. “Does this have to do with what happened yesterday?”

  I walk by him and head down the stairs like he isn’t there. This is none of his business, even if his intentions are good, which I’m not sure they are.

  “You seriously walking away from me?” he asks, following me.

  “Yup,” I say as I take the last step. I turn the corner and head for the kitchen. No sign of Rebel but we pass a couple who are guests at the inn. “Hi,” I say to them. “Are you enjoying your stay?” I try to keep my tone cheery.

  “We love it here,” the middle-aged lady answers and she smiles to her male companion, who smiles back at her.

  “Great. Let us know if you need anything,” I say.

  “Everything has been perfect, as always,” she says. “We were just about to take a stroll along the beach. I love this time of day when the sun begins to set.”

  “Enjoy,” I say to both of them. Cole remains quiet beside me.

  I turn away and continue toward the kitchen. When I get there, I notice the cookies have been moved so I begin to search in the cabinets. No cookies anywhere.

  I open the fridge door to see the container set right on the middle shelf. Bingo. I take them out and frown. Who puts fresh baked cookies in a fridge? I take out the container and open it up. I take a cookie and pop it into the microwave.

  “Can you warm me up one too?” Cole asks.

  I do but I don’t interact with him.

  Twenty seconds later, I have my warm chocolate chip cookie. The chocolate chips have melted and I take a piece of paper towel and place a cookie on a sheet for me and one for Cole.

  “Here,” I pass it to him.

  I eat the cookie. “This is good.”

  Cole bites into the cookie too and makes a sound of appreciation. It’s deep and gravelly and he really is too good-looking for his own good.

  After taking a bite, he places the cookie down and heads back to the fridge. “These need to be eaten with a cold glass of milk.”

  “Says who?” I ask because I’m enjoying my cookie just fine. And I may go for a second.

  “Granny Mae,” he says like it’s obvious. He takes out two cups from the cabinet and pours me a cup too. He pushes it my way and says, “Trust me.”

  I laugh but I take the cup and drink. Mmm. It does taste good.

  “See, I told you,” Cole says.

  “Fine, it is good,” I admit, albeit hesitantly. I’ve heard him and Wolfe talk about his grandmother before. I know Cole adores her and loves her cooking, which may be the only sweet thing about him.

  “Now tell me what had you so upset up there,” he says.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it,” I say. “But I will have another cookie. Do you want me to warm you another one?”

  “Sure. I’ve still got more milk to drink,” he says.

  I warm another cookie and pass it to him.

  We eat in silence. It’s awkward. Where is Rebel? I look over my shoulder.

  “I think she and Wolfe are in their room,” he says, waggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively. Did I just ask that question out loud?

  “I didn’t realize Wolfe was back from the shop.”

  “Yeah, he got in not long ago. He’s the one who put the cookies in the fridge. Wanted to hide them from the guests,” Cole laughs.

  “Not with me around. I’m a serious cookie monster,” I say, and after I realize what I said I want to hit myself upside the head. That sounded so wrong.

  Cole laughs.

  “You should come out to the beach. I saw from my window that some people are playing volleyball.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not really my thing.”

  “No? What is your thing then?” he asks.

  I take a moment to really think about it. “I don’t have a clue.”

  Cole’s lips pinch together. “Okay, when I feel sad or whatever, I like playing hockey. It releases steam. Sports have a way of doing that. Just try it,” he says.

  “Okay,” I agree because maybe he’s right. Besides I came on this trip to experience new things. Volleyball would be new. If it doesn’t involve sitting at my desk studying then I probably haven’t done it before.

  “You may want to change,” he says, staring me up and down. “The sand flies everywhere. A bathing suit may be more convenient.”

  “I don’t know if you’re being a douchebag right now or thoughtful,” I say to him.

  He chuckles deep and throaty. “If I’m being honest, which I need to be since Wolfe made me promise to make you a friend, then both. You in a bikini is a sight to see and you m
ay get hot and want to wash the sand off in the water after the game,” he says and his green eyes gleam.

  “I have my bikini on under my clothes,” I admit. Because I had planned to go sit in the sun before I got sidetracked by thoughts of my dad and how guilty I feel for leaving the way I did.

  “Okay, so after you then,” he says. I walk toward the front entrance and I slide my flip-flops on. Cole puts on his slides and we head outside.

  I should feel lighter with the sun beating on me and the sound of the waves nearby, but a heaviness still looms over me. I pull my phone from my back pocket of my cutoff jean shorts. Still no message from Dad, but Paris answered she’s doing good and will try to call me later.

  “Well, come on,” Cole says and he takes my hand and guides us toward the sand.

  I don’t take my hand out of his. I try not to pay attention to the fact that I am attracted to him either. We reach an area where several volleyball nets are set up. In one of the areas it looks like the teams are just getting started. Cole asks if they mind if we join and we find ourselves on opposite teams.

  “You do realize they are going to get pissed with you when they realize I don’t even know the rules of the game,” I say to Cole.

  “Come beside me,” a guy with dark hair and cobalt eyes says. He’s got a six-pack and hair that flops onto his face. He looks like the whole package. “I can teach you what to do.”

  “Of course you can,” Cole answers and his tone is snide.

  My brow furrows and I look at Cole. “I’d teach you myself but I’m on the other team.”

  I look to the guy. “I’m Alessio,” he says and he extends his hand.

  “Holland,” I say, shaking his hand.

  The game begins and Alessio teaches me the rules. He explains how I have to hit the ball across the net, but the first couple times the ball comes my way I duck and Alessio saves it for me. The third time the ball comes my way, I place my two hands together in a fist and hit the ball up and across, over the net the way Alessio showed me and our team scores a point when nobody on the opposing team hits the ball. Alessio high-fives me and the game continues. I don’t even realize I’ve forgotten about my worries until someone from the other team calls “Time to switch.”