He glares at me like I’ve committed some sort of sin. “It doesn’t work like that. I signed a contract. I’m legally bound to this team for the remainder of the season.”
“Okay, so then can’t you be traded to another team?” As soon as the words leave my lips, my stomach flops. If Bennett’s traded that means he has to move and he won’t be in Boston. Then, I realize, that regardless, he’ll probably only need me a few more months at the most, and after that, we’ll probably never see each other again. I should be glad to be rid of him, but I’m not. I can’t imagine a day where I don’t see Bennett now. I’ve grown used to his presence.
Bennett shakes his head roughly. “He’d be too scared for me to go to another team. He’d think I could still spill the beans and that would be bad.”
“Why don’t you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
He sighs and looks away. “I idolized the guy for a long time. A long fucking time. And it … I don’t know. I guess I felt like I owed it to him to keep my mouth shut, but then he started fucking with me.”
“So tell someone,” I urge.
He shakes his head resolutely. “Who are people going to believe? The legend player turned coach or the alcoholic womanizer asshole?”
I snort. “You’re none of those things. Okay, maybe one of those things, but you’re not as bad as you think.”
“Aw, thanks, Princess.” He presses a hand to his heart. “So which of those two things am I not?”
“Well, you’re definitely not an alcoholic. A few drinks here and there isn’t a bad thing. And you used to be, but you’re not a womanizer anymore.”
He chuckles and rubs his jaw. “So that makes me an asshole?” He fights a smile.
“Ding, ding we have a winner.” He shakes his head at my antics. “So,” I say, growing serious, “what are you going to do?”
He shrugs and stands, pulling off the sweater and dropping it on the bed. “I have no idea, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
He tries to sound positive, but the look on his face tells me he feels anything but sure of himself. I wish I knew how to help him, but he’s on his own with this one.
Michael and I have been running drills for hours. I’ve gotten to know the guy pretty well, and he’s a nice dude with a future in hockey ahead of him. I’m sure of it. I don’t tell him that—I don’t want to give him false hope—but I already caught sight of some scouts at one of the home games, and I’m certain they were checking out Michael. He’s one of those players that exudes magic on the ice.
We skate off the ice and head back to the locker room to shower and leave.
“Thanks for helping me out, man,” I say, tying the laces on my shoes.
Michael shrugs into his jacket. “No problem. Glad I could help. Besides, I need all the extra ice time I can get.” He grabs his bag and slings it onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you in the gym tomorrow. Coach says he wants us there early.”
I nod and shove my stuff into my bag. “See you later.”
Michael leaves and I’m alone in the locker room. I can’t help but take a moment to look around. It still looks the same as when I was here a few years ago. Ugly blue tiled walls and floors. Rows and rows of gray lockers and wooden benches. It’s your standard locker room, but to me, it feels like home.
But it’s not the room that feels like home. It’s the feeling of belonging. I always felt like an outsider with the Hunters. Most of the guys don’t like me because I’m better than them. I’m not being cocky, it’s true, and no one wants someone better to come along because it jeopardizes spots on the team. In other words, older players begin to shake in their skates and fear being kicked off the team.
Playing for the Hunters was my dream since they’re my home team, but the reality could never measure up to the dream. It wasn’t that professional hockey is harder than college hockey, though it is, it’s just … it’s not a good fit. We don’t mesh well. And maybe, with a different coach, we’d come together as a team, but I don’t see Matthews getting booted—though, I wish every day it would happen.
I don’t know what my next step with Matthews is, but I know I have to get people on my side to back me up, which means I need to start by reaching out to the team. Not all of the guys hate my guts, so I think there are a few who’d be open to going to a bar and getting a few drinks and talking. I don’t know exactly what I’ll tell them, but I know it can’t be the truth. At least not yet.
The truth.
Fuck.
I still can’t believe I told Grace. I mean, she kind of guessed it so it doesn’t really count, but … Who the fuck am I kidding? I should’ve never involved her in this. When she guessed right, I should’ve lied or done something. Anything but let her in on the truth, because if Matthews finds out she knows I don’t know what he might do and I swear to God if the fucker hurts her I’ll make all of Grace’s axe murderer worries come true and kill the asshole.
I slam my locker closed and grab my bag, lumbering out of the arena. I’m exhausted. I’ve been pushing myself too hard, but I’ve had to do something to distract my mind. Being around Grace helps, but she has classes and even more studying than normal with her finals coming up.
I should head back to my room and get some rest, but my feet have a mind of their own and lead me right to Grace’s door. It’s getting late, after ten, and I debate for about thirty seconds on whether or not I should knock on the door before I finally do.
I knock lightly, just in case she or Elle has fallen asleep studying, but loud enough that someone awake should hear.
I hear footsteps treading lightly across the floor and then the door eases open a crack. “Bennett?” Grace pokes her head out. “It’s late. Are you okay?” She’s probably having flashbacks to the night I showed up flustered and begged her to go to Boston with me.
“I’m okay,” I assure her. “I just wanted to see you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I want to take them back, but Grace just nods and doesn’t seem to read into them. I shouldn’t want to see her, though. This thing between us is supposed to be a business deal more or less an agreement between two parties who have no interest in each other. But that lie is getting harder and harder to tell myself. No interest in Grace? I’d have to be a blind fucking monk to not be interested in Grace. She’s fucking gorgeous. And sweet. And her smile … Oh, fuck, her smile is the best.
“I was just about to go to bed,” she tells me, not opening the door up any wider.
“Can I stay here tonight?”
Where the ever-loving fuck did that come from? Stay here? For the night? Together? I have completely lost my mind. But it’s too late to take it back now.
She looks back into her room and then at me, biting on her plump bottom lip. It kills me when she does that. It’s an innocent gesture, one she does when she’s nervous or uncomfortable, but there’s something infinitely sexy about it.
“I …” She pauses and I’m about two seconds away from leaving when she finishes. “Okay.”
My eyebrows shoot up my forehead. “Seriously?”
She shrugs. “We’re just going to sleep, so I don’t think it’s a big deal.” She opens the door wider to let me in.
“Where’s Elle?” I ask, noting the empty bed.
Grace sighs. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’m betting with Ryland.”
I nod. “I’m not surprised.”
“Me either.” She sits back down at her desk at her open laptop. “I have to work on this paper some more. It’ll probably be an hour before I can even think about sleep.” She sighs and glares at the screen. I kick off my shoes and drop my bag on the floor before flopping on her bed. She laughs. “I’d tell you to make yourself at home but you already have.”
I cross my arms behind my head and smirk. “I thought you letting me stay was invitation enough.” I wiggle around.
She shakes her head. “Don’t distract me, this is important.”
“You do realize that fuels me to distract you.”
She
narrows her green eyes on me. “Go get me a cupcake then, Bennett.”
“Why?”
“Because that means you’ll be gone long enough for me to almost finish this and I’ll have a sweet when I’m done. It’s a win-win.”
“Yeah, a win-win where I don’t win,” I counter. I stand, though, and put my shoes back on. “I’ll get you a cupcake, because I’m the best fake boyfriend ever.” I bend down and kiss her temple. Her breath catches and she looks at me with surprised eyes. I quickly step away and open her door. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Mmhmm,” she hums, turning her gaze back to her computer but I don’t miss the flush in her cheeks.
I ease the door closed behind me and head down the hall to the elevator.
“Hey, Bennett,” a pretty blond says when I stop beside her to wait for the elevator doors to open.
“Hi,” I say, giving her a quick-once over and then training my eyes back on the elevator doors.
Guys with girlfriends don’t check out other girls—even when your fake dating. Pretty sure it’s a law or something.
“I’m Beth,” she says.
“Okay.” I know I sound cold and I don’t mean to, but if she’s expecting me to flirt it’s not going to happen.
The doors open and we step onto the elevator together.
“What are you doing in the girls’ dorm?” she asks, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder so that I can get a better shot of her cleavage. I force myself not to look, but it’s really fucking hard when there’s a pair of tits right beside you. I mean, I’m a guy, we like to look. It’s a fact of life.
“Visiting Grace,” I bite out between my teeth.
She lets out a musical laugh. “And leaving so early?”
I know what she’s implying but I don’t bite. The doors open and I step out into the hallway. “See you later, Barb.”
“It’s Beth!” she calls after me.
I disappear outside, and Beth, thankfully, doesn’t follow.
I head across campus to get Grace’s cupcake. I choose the chocolate one with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. My girl likes chocolate.
Holy fucking shit. Did I just address Grace as my girl? What the fuck has gotten into me? She’s not my girl. She never will be. I don’t want her to be.
I stop in my tracks in the middle of campus. I don’t know why I keep lying to myself. I do want Grace. For the first time in my life I actually want a girlfriend, but the timing … The timing fucking sucks. With everything going on with my team and coach I can’t afford any distractions and Grace would be a distraction.
I breathe out and watch my breath fog the air.
I’ve never felt so conflicted and at a loss as to what to do.
I know I can’t tell Grace how I feel, though. She’s as affected by me as I am by her and I don’t want to give her false hope that something more will ever come of this. I can’t promise her a real relationship. Not while my career is on the line.
I walk around campus for a while, just thinking, before I finally make my way back to her dorm. I don’t bother knocking and let myself in.
Grace jumps and nearly falls out of her chair. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” I say, closing the door and locking it. “Did you finish yet?”
“I think five more minutes will do it.” she sighs, and I notice how tired her eyes are.
I hold up the clear plastic in my hands. “Well, I brought cupcakes.”
“My hero.” She claps her hands together and pretends to swoon.
“Are you mocking me, woman?” I set the cupcakes on the end of her desk and rid myself of my shoes again. I really hate wearing shoes.
She laughs. “No. Maybe a little.”
I shake my head. “I buy you cupcakes and you mock me. I see how it goes.”
She smiles and holds up her hand, wiggling her fingers. “Five more minutes.” She turns back to her computer and I remove my shirt and start on my pants. Grace squeaks, “What are you doing?”
I pause with my belt undone. “Getting ready for bed.”
“By taking your clothes off?” Her eyes nearly pop out of her head.
I suppress a grin. “Princess, I’m not sleeping in my pants and you’ve already seen me naked so there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
She looks like she’s about to faint. “Yeah, but … but …”
“Hey, I have to be comfortable when I sleep, so boxers it is.”
“Maybe you should go back to your dorm and sleep there,” she pleads.
“Too late.” I chuckle. “You already said I could sleep here.”
She whimpers and looks at her computer and then back at me like she can’t decide which she wants to look at. Her gaze steadies on me and she squares her shoulder. She lifts a finger and points it at me like a mother about to scold her child. “No cuddling.”
I grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.”
She breathes out a sigh and returns to her paper. “That better be the best cupcake I’ve ever had.”
I step out of my jeans and dive under her covers. “Fuck these are the softest sheets I’ve ever felt,” I comment, wiggling my toes around.
“Bennett,” she hisses. “I’m working.” She points at her computer screen.
“Oh, right.” I mime zipping my lips.
It doesn’t take her long to finish, and when she does she flips the lid closed on her computer and lets out a groan. “That paper was total bullshit, but let’s hope the teacher buys it.” She stands and stretches her arms above her head and rummages through her drawers. She holds a few items of clothing to her chest and says, “I’m going down the hall to change. Think you can manage to behave yourself for that long?”
I prop myself up on her pillows. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I promise not to search through your drawers and smell your panties.”
Her face twists into a scowl. “Okay, that’s gross.”
She quickly ducks out of the room and I make myself comfortable in her bed. It’s the same kind of lumpy mattress that I have but her nicer sheets and blankets make up for it. Although, she has enough pillows on here that I could make a fort and live comfortably in it. I toss some of those suckers on the floor. With two of us on the small bed we need all the room we can get. Grace said no cuddling but it’s kinda hard when there’s no room.
She comes back a few minutes later and I groan. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“What?” she asks innocently.
“You’re wearing that to bed?” I indicate her super short shorts and tight long sleeve top. Oh, fuck me, I can see her nipples puckering beneath the gray fabric. “You’re trying to kill me. You really are.”
She laughs and grabs the cupcake box and slides into bed beside me. “Scoot over,” she demands.
“Where?” I counter. “Into the wall?”
“Well, if you hadn’t dumped all my pillows on the floor you wouldn’t have to sleep against the wall.” She sticks her tongue out and then giggles.
Grace’s laugh has quickly become one of my favorite sounds in the world. It’s soft and feminine just like her.
“Hold this.” She hands me the cupcake box and then leans over to grab her iPad off the table. “Wanna watch something on Netflix?” she asks, putting in her passcode.
“Is that your subtle way of asking me if I want to Netflix and chill?”
Her dark brows furrow together, and I know she’s pondering over what I said. When she figures out the meaning, she gasps and smacks my bare chest. “Ew, you pig!”
I laugh. “I was kidding, but it was totally worth saying to get that reaction.”
She wiggles her cute little butt around trying to get comfortable. “I can’t believe I said you could stay the night here. Aliens must have taken over my brain. Yeah, that’s it. Definitely aliens.” I shake my head and open the cupcake box, grabbing mine. “What do you want to watch?” she asks.
“You pick,” I tell her.
She laugh
s. “You really shouldn’t have said that.” She clicks on some show called New Girl.
“I’m sorry, I take it back. Let me pick.” I try to take the iPad from her but she snatches it away. I somehow end up dropping my cupcake right on my chest, smearing icing all over myself.
Grace stares at the mess and then breaks out in hysterics. “I’m glad you find this amusing, Princess. Now I’m going to have to eat your cupcake.”
She gasps. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I really want a cupcake,” I tell her, pretending to grab hers from the box.
Her hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist, keeping from going any further. I could break her hold easily, but I don’t want to.
“You wouldn’t have even gotten cupcakes if I hadn’t asked for them,” she says, her eyes flicking from me to the cupcake.
“Hey, I’ll eat this one—” I point to the fresh one “—and you can lick this one off of me.”
“Not happening, dude. Keep dreaming.”
I snort. “When did I become dude?”
“When you threatened to eat my cupcake.”
“Come on, just give me one little lick,” I plead, but suddenly feel like I’m not talking about the cupcake anymore.
Her lips purse and she shakes her head. “No.”
“Please?” I jut out my bottom lip and lean closer to her. She smells like heaven and hell all wrapped into one cute package.
She shakes her head almost imperceptibly and inches just slightly closer to me.
I swallow thickly, staring at her lips. “I want to kiss you again,” I confess. “Really kiss you.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Haven’t we already really kissed?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She lets go of my hand and says, “Then kiss me.”
I expected her to kick me out again, or to flat out say no, but I definitely didn’t think she’d actually say yes. I don’t hesitate for a second—I don’t want to give her a chance to change her mind.
I cup her cheek in my hand, rubbing my thumb over her smooth skin and then I lean in, pillowing my lips over hers. The light contact isn’t enough, though, and I press more firmly as her fingers grasp at my hair and her leg hooks around my waist. My tongue swipes into her mouth and she lets out the softest sound I’ve ever heard. It’s a cross between a moan and purr and I’m eager to make her do it again. My hands move to her waist and my fingers dig into the indent above her ass. She tastes minty from her toothpaste but sweet too, like she’s just sucked on a piece of candy. She rolls her hips against mine and I stifle a groan. This girl is going to kill me, but I’m pretty sure I’d willingly welcome death at her hands.
The Game That Breaks Us Page 15
