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Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2)

Page 2

by Waverly Alexander


  Kennedy approaches Miles, but he waves off the snacks she’s trying to juggle in her small arms. Even with all this shit going on around me, it’s hard not to get lost in her light, the way she moves, the way she seems to brighten everyone’s mood just by existing. She squabbles with Tommy and Miles over dumb shit, but it’s an act. They like having her around just as much as they like complaining about having her around. I love that Kennedy cares about the guys as much as I do. They’re my family, and really, so is she. They’re a hard group to please, but they’ve accepted her, and I can tell they care about her, too. Even Patrick. He’d protect her, just like I’d protect Everly with my life.

  I was nervous about bringing her into our little world because if they hadn’t accepted her, I don’t know what I would have done. Kennedy and I probably wouldn’t be friends if we hadn’t met in such a weird way, and if I hadn’t been so enamored with her from the first time I saw her. She didn’t care that I’m an Elite, she didn’t give a shit that every other girl in her dorm would have fallen to their knees if I asked them to. There was something special about her that I spotted before I really got to know her. All this time later, she still keeps me guessing and wanting to learn more about her every day.

  Kennedy and I met last year before all the Leary shit came to the surface. Sure, Andre was still a pretentious pain in the ass, and Coach was a cranky motherfucker, but things were normal. We partied, we kicked ass on the ice, and we had the pick of any girls on and off-campus. One night after delivering a huge win over our longtime rivals, I had adrenaline to burn and I made the mistake of accompanying a puck bunny back to her dorm. After we were finished, I felt like I always do—an overwhelming urge to get the fuck away from whatever girl I settled for. Luckily, this particular bunny lived in one of the shitty all-girl dorms up on the hill that have communal bathrooms for the entire hall. She was barely even out of the room and I was already up, feeling gross and wanting to get the hell out of dodge before she returned. I didn’t even know her name. I talked a big game around the guys, and sure, sex felt good while it was happening, but I always had this overwhelming sense of anxiety after I was finished.

  I pulled my shirt on after I was already halfway down the hallway, and I saw the girl I was trying to ditch coming around the corner and heading back to her room. I didn’t have enough time to get to the elevator or the staircase, and I wasn’t really in the mood for the “why can’t you stay” talk. I noticed a door ajar, and what sounded like someone struggling accompanied by a screeching beep every few seconds. I ducked inside, and closed the door behind me, figuring my chances of smooth-talking whoever was inside were pretty good considering it was an all-girl dorm. There she was: a pixie-like girl, blonde curls pinned up and messy. She was standing on her desk in knee-high socks and spandex shorts that made it difficult to look at anything except her plump ass. Her shirt rode up as she swatted at the fire alarm with a coat hanger.

  “Shut up! Nothing’s on fire, dickwad,” she hissed at the inanimate object, standing on her tiptoes to try to reach the reset button with her improvised tool.

  “You should really wait for the RA, Kennedy.” My eyes snapped over to the guy sitting on her bed, and I’d been so entertained by her antics that I hadn’t noticed him at first. He looked like a pretentious dick, from his polo shirt all the way down to his dress shoes. It’s a Friday night on campus, and this fucker looked like he was dressed to interview at a Fortune 500 company.

  “My RA hates me because her slimy boyfriend slapped my ass when I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom, so I elbowed him in the nose and told on the clown, and now he’s not allowed in the dorm,” she chirped quickly, as if she hadn’t just rattled off a fuckton of information in one breath.

  As she turned to face the blonde guy, I finally saw her face. It felt like my heart kickstarted in my chest, like I was having a physical reaction to seeing her. She was beautiful, there was no other word for it. Her cheeks were as full and rosy as her lips. Her nose was delicate, like her body, and her thick lashes framed innocent brown eyes. Even though I don’t typically like it when girls wear makeup, whatever she did to her eyes sent an electric jolt of pleasure through me. I didn’t even care that I was leaning against her door, unabashedly ogling her like it was my fucking job.

  “Hey! You’re tall, come here,” Kennedy demanded, crooking a finger at me like she’d known me all her life. She was still standing on her desk in those damn socks that exposed thigh, making me wonder what they would feel like against my skin with her short legs wrapped around me.

  “You know him?” the guy on her bed squeaked out as he stood up, flattening his hands on the pleats of his khakis as I sized him up. He couldn’t have been more than five-foot-nine, and he looked like he might break in half if I stared at him too hard.

  “He plays hockey,” Kennedy said easily, still trying to whack the fire alarm, but missing by a mile.

  I felt my chest puff out with pride. I was used to that, getting noticed. I was an Elite, everyone knew my name. She didn’t strike me as the hockey groupie type, but I still felt like a fucking king at that moment, wondering what she thought of me.

  “You know I play hockey?” I asked dumbly as I moved further into her room and over to her desk. I adjusted my glasses, a nervous tic I’ve had since I was old enough to wear them. This girl, she made me nervous. She was a live wire, and I couldn’t wait to hear what was going to come out of her mouth next.

  “I can read, you know.” One hand on her hip, she pointed at my Darlington Hockey t-shirt with the other. I felt my face flush with heat, and I couldn’t help but grin at her tone. “I’ll tell all the girls on my floor that you’re the best lover on the entire campus if you’ll just get this damn—” she cut herself off with an agitated huff when it beeped again.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t think you should—” The guy moved over toward me, and something about the way he called her sweetheart made me want to knock him to the ground. I’d never felt that way before, and I didn’t even know this girl, but it was real, and undeniable.

  Kennedy spun, pointing the coat hanger at him, and I changed my mind immediately. I didn’t want to beat the shit out of him for feeling like he had the right to give her a pet name. Instead, I wanted to watch her beat him with that coat hanger while I cheered her on.

  “That fire alarm is dying one way or another. It’s me or it, Mark, pick a side.”

  I can’t help but laugh, she was so fucking weird and entertaining.

  “Here, hop down, and I’ll kill it for you,” I said, holding my arm out for her to grab onto. I’d known she was capable of getting down on her own, it was pretty much just a ploy because I wanted to know if her pale skin was as soft as it looked.

  Grabbing my hand with her tiny fingers, she jumped down, landing on her feet and the electricity that sparked through me at her touch went straight to my dick. I didn’t have time to react, because just as quickly as her fingers were wrapped in mine, she was shoving her weapon of choice at me.

  “You’ll need it, that thing just won’t die.”

  I took it, humoring her and climbing up on the desk. At six-foot-three, I could reach it easily. With three quick tugs, I had it off the wall and the battery ripped out of the center, which killed the annoying chirp instantly.

  “Your RA is going to fine you and probably report…” Mark said, trailing off as Kennedy and I leveled him with a glare at the same time.

  “Who’s going to tell?” I asked, but wasn’t really a question. I saw the way his eyes wavered, unable to meet my hard gaze. Good. I want him to be afraid of me. “Should I toss it?” I asked Kennedy when I was back on the floor, holding the fire alarm over the wastebasket near her desk.

  “Nope, I’ll take that.” She held out her palms dramatically for me to place it in her hands like it’s some sort of war medal.

  “We should really get going, it’s 9:58, and guys aren’t allowed to be in the all-girl dorms after ten PM.” Mark was like a walking fre
shman orientation pamphlet. Alcohol isn’t permitted in the frat houses either, but that didn’t stop us from carrying it in by the crate.

  “I think I’ll risk it,” I said to Mark, sitting down on Kennedy’s bed. She raised a curious brow at me, but I wasn’t fucking leaving unless she told me to. I hadn’t been this entertained...ever.

  “Kennedy, I can’t leave you in here alone with him,” Mark said under his breath as he turned his back to me, and I saw her roll her eyes. I wondered who he was and why she was tolerating his annoying ass.

  “I’ll be fine, I wouldn’t expect you to bend one of your rules and stay past ten,” she said with a straight face, and by his profile, I could see that he didn’t pick up on the fact that she was mocking him.

  Mark looked from me to Kennedy and then back to me. I leaned back on my elbow, showing him I had no intention of leaving any time soon.

  “Call public safety and then me if you have any…trouble,” he said, lowering his voice on the last word.

  “I’ll do that, Mark. See you tomorrow.” She waved him off, tossing the fire alarm on the bed next to me. She headed to her closet as he slunk out the door. She was bent over, moving stuff around like a deranged squirrel looking for its stash when I heard her muffled voice. “You made your point, you showed him who’s the bigger man, you know the way out.”

  “Why’d you let me stay if you knew what I was doing?” I chuckled, still reclining on her bed and enjoying the view of her pert ass in those shorts.

  “Because he annoys me, and it was funny to watch,” she said after she righted herself, showing me a pair of black combat-style boots. “Thanks for fixing the fire alarm and all. I’m sure you’ve got a bunch of rooms to hit on your way out; unfortunately, I don’t sleep with hockey players, so you might wanna try the next room over. She goes to every game.” She didn’t crack a smile, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if she was serious or fucking with me as she slipped her boots on without bothering to tie the laces.

  “Where are you going dressed like that?” I asked her, ignoring her previous statement because banging any other girls, even eager puck bunnies, was the furthest thing from my mind at that moment. And despite the fact that my dick would say otherwise, I was enjoying just talking to her fully clothed and halfway insulting me.

  She grinned, dimples on full display as she grabbed the fire alarm that hadn’t beeped since I dismantled it and calmly placed it on the tile floor. Then she jumped on it, but she didn't so much as crack the plastic on the first try, even with the heavy boots. The third stomp did it though—it cracked open, splintering into pieces, and the look of pure satisfaction on her face had me staring at her like some love-sick high school boy.

  “I’m really a nonviolent person, you know. Unless I’m really pushed. But after listening to Mark prattle on for two hours tonight and that damn beeping...I needed some kind of relief.” The words were innocent, and I could tell there was no sexual innuendo on her mind, but I couldn’t help but flash through about thirty different scenarios where I could provide her with much more satisfaction than stomping on a fire alarm.

  “Is that why you don’t sleep with hockey players?” I asked. When she quirked an eyebrow in question, I elaborated. “It's a pretty violent sport.”

  “Nah, I don’t sleep with hockey players because they’re arrogant assholes who will sleep with anything that looks good in a skirt.” She shrugged as if she hadn't just insulted me. I mean, she wasn’t wrong, but still.

  “That’s not true,” I lied.

  Our attention moved to her door that Mark left ajar, and I cringed when I heard the girl’s voice who I had just bailed on.

  “It was Zach. Zach Masters. We had the best night, and then when I came back from the shower he was just gone. I thought it really meant something to him.” I jerked up into a sitting position when I heard her teary voice. I was leveled by Kennedy’s knowing smirk as I shot up off the bed. I was across the room and about to shut her door when there was a knock on the other side. I quickly slid behind the door and closed my eyes when I heard what’s-her-name start speaking to Kennedy.

  “Did you see—” the girl was cut off by Kennedy, who was now sitting on her bed sans shoes, cross-legged and grinning because she knew she had me by the balls at that moment.

  “A tall, tan, muscular hockey player?” she asked while I glared at her. I could‘ve walked out from behind the door right then, told the puck bunny thanks for a good time, and headed back to the frat house without batting an eyelash or feeling bad. But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay in that room to get to know this evil little pixie that made all reason fly out of my head the moment I laid eyes on her.

  “Yeah, you saw him?” My heart dropped, and I’d switched up my glare to a look of pure pleading. Come on, baby. Don’t ruin this.

  “He’s blonde, right? Walks with a limp?” Kennedy continued, her eyes shifting from the girl to me just long enough for her to wrinkle her nose at me as if to say “gotcha”. Where does she come up with this shit so quickly? A limp?

  I hear a long sigh. “No. He has black hair. God, Kennedy, this really sucks. He’s one of the Elite.” I looked at Kennedy to see her reaction, but she shrugged as if to say she didn’t know who we were. And that hadn’t surprised me. She didn’t seem like the type who would care or even find our status on campus appealing.

  “If I see any royal-looking hockey players with black hair, I’ll let you know,” Kennedy said, raising her voice up an octave to imitate the girl in the hallway. I almost snickered out loud at the way she mocked her tone.

  “Thanks, Kennedy!” the other girl chirped, the sad, dramatic tone nearly erased and no indication that she realized Kennedy wasn’t being sincere. I let out a breath as I heard her pad away, realizing it would be mere minutes before I was forgotten and she was on to her next conquest.

  I shut the door and waited for the click, signaling it was locked, before I turned around and looked at Kennedy expectantly.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Yeah?” she asked seriously, clasping her hands together in her lap as if she was enjoying toying with me.

  “You’re not even sorry.” I grinned at her because she was ridiculous and I loved it.

  “Sorry for what? I don’t know you or owe you anything.” She smirked, pushing forward on the bed and letting her petite legs dangle before she leaned forward, hiking her socks up higher on her thighs, which sent another jolt of desire straight to my dick. “I think you should be thankful I didn’t toss you out in the hallway and let the girls fight over you.” She laughed sweetly before adding teasingly, “After all, you’re one of the Elite.”

  I moved over toward her and crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t care about that, though, do you?” I asked her quietly, even though I already knew the answer.

  “Do you?” She laughed again, and that time I joined her, shaking my head to confirm her suspicions. I mean, I’d always enjoyed the perks of being one of the Elite. One of the five-star players, the ones everyone noticed. Girls, alcohol, anything we wanted was thrown at our feet. But after a while, it got old, never knowing who is real or if they’re just interested in being near you because of who you are.

  “So, who’s Mark? And don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” I fiddled with the keys in my pocket, trying to think of any reason that I could stay and just enjoy her company a little longer.

  She huffed, reaching up and straightening one of the pins holding up her curls. “He thinks he is.” She rolled her eyes. “We grew up on the same street, and he followed me to college.” She shrugged. “Our parents are pushing pretty hard for us to get together. He’s a nice guy, he means well and all.” She got up and stooped down in front of her TV, fiddling with something. She was this tiny ball of energy that I wanted to hold in my hands.

  “He seems like a pretentious dick,” I said, and I couldn’t believe the jealousy that I heard in my own voice. I’d never been jealous of another guy; there had ne
ver been a need.

  She turned her upper body and cocked her head at me, smirking. “No, he doesn’t play hockey.”

  I laughed genuinely and flopped back down on her bed. “Touché.”

  “So, do you have another dick appointment, or do you need an escort back to your dorm?” She fiddled with the TV some more before turning it on, and then I heard her moving things around again.

  “Is that an invitation to sleep over?” I mentally facepalmed myself at how cringy I sounded. She made me feel like a bumbling schoolboy.

  Kennedy quirked an eyebrow and moved back toward me. My eyes were on her face, so I hadn’t realized what she’d placed in my hands until she said, “If you’re staying, you’ve gotta work for it.”

  I looked down at the old-school Nintendo 64 controller in my hand. She was already back at the TV, switching on the console. The nostalgic Super Mario Kart music began as she said, “I’m Yoshi, pick your poison.” Her voice was so easy, it’s like she’d known me—not fucking Mark—her whole life.

  We fell asleep that night with our heads at the foot of her bed, controllers still in our hands. I’d never experienced anything like the instant connection I had with Kennedy, and I’m certain that I never will again. I smile at the memory of the first time I’d ever slept next to a girl, and to this day, she’s the only one I’ve ever shared a bed with for longer than it took to get off.

 

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