The Devil You Know: Devington Devils Hockey Romance

by Daphne Slade

  Chapter Fifteen

  Grace

  Thursday night I’m taking a break from studying by getting lost in a book. I keep telling myself I’ll finish one more chapter, but the dethroned princess-turned-warrior has just been challenged to a battle with her nemesis. Anyone can see she’s going to end up falling for him and maybe this is the part where they finally get over themselves and just rip each other’s clothes off and—

  I’m startled out of the story by my phone alerting me to a text message.

  I sigh and look at the time, realizing this is probably my cue to put this book down and pick up Cellular and Molecular Immunology to take to the library and study. I have a Friday class and next week we have our first small test.

  I pick up the phone and see that it’s Noah who’s texted me.

  Noah: So when are we going to go on our “pretend” date? How about tomorrow?

  He was actually serious about that?

  And why go to the trouble of putting quotes around pretend? We both know what this is.

  I stare at the phone wondering how to reply. In an alternate universe, I’d have been thrilled to go out with someone like him. In this one, it’s a complete farce.

  Me: I don’t think we have to take it that far. No need to torture yourself.

  Noah: What if I’m into that kind of thing? [wink emoji]

  I can’t tell if he actually considers dating me torture or if this is still a joke or…hell, I don’t know what I think.

  I recall that kiss and it only has my mind even more twisted around in tangles. If that was a “pretend” kiss what would a real one from him be like?

  Me: Unfortunately humiliation isn’t my kind of thing. Freshman year was bad enough, thank you very much.

  There’s a long pause as I watch the bubbling dots do their thing waiting for his reply. Maybe he’ll have the balls to finally apologize? Even if it is just a simple text. When it goes on for a full half-minute, I figure he’s decided to just take the hint and drop this idea.

  I’m ashamed to find myself disappointed.

  Then again, Matt hasn’t bothered to so much as text me this week. Why am I not quite as disappointed about that?

  I jump when the phone rings instead of vibrating with another text. I stare at it in horror for a moment before finally answering.

  “Okay, strictly vanilla instead,” Noah says.

  “We are still talking about a date right?”

  “Define date,” he hums. That instantly makes me think of Jenny uttering the same words, specifically the look on her face as she detailed all the things he did to her.

  “Something we won’t get arrested doing in public. Also, something that won’t make me gag.”

  Noah sucks his teeth. “So no ball gags, got it. And here I thought you were into living dangerously between the sheets. What happened to the girl with the handcuffs and blindfolds?”

  “She never wants you to accidentally catch her like that ever again.”

  Noah laughs. “So, Saturday? I promise to keep it strictly PG, maybe PG-13 if the mood hits us. Let’s do this thing.”

  “Straight to the point then.”

  “If you’d prefer some foreplay, Grace, I’m happy to accommodate.”

  I roll my eyes, but definitely feel a smile come to my face. “Foreplay?”

  “If you insist, Grace. Now, how shall we explore that topic? What are you wearing right now?”

  I hiccup a laugh despite myself. “You waited how many days to call and that’s the best you can do?”

  “Hmm, that sounds like you actually missed the sound of my voice. Upset I didn’t call sooner?”

  “No,” I say too quickly.

  Noah laughs, which makes my face go red for reasons unrelated to foreplay. How many different ways has this guy managed to make my blood flow hot? If he’s not humiliating me he’s turning me on…sort of.

  “If it makes you feel better, that image of you handcuffed to the bed has certainly helped me get through many a lonely night this week, Grace.”

  “There’s the Noah I know and loathe,” I say, mostly to cover up the strange, and very alarming thoughts boiling to life at the recesses of my mind at that confession.

  He laughs. “Come on, are you telling me you’ve never thought of me that way? Not even in a hate sex sort of way?”

  He has a lot of nerve. To assume I’d ever think of him that way is appalling.

  To be fair, he’s certainly made it to the hate part of my mind. Mostly when I think of him with every girl he’s ever hooked up with at a party. Or the ones he took to Evan’s lake house. Or the ones that sit in the arena screeching his name as he plays.

  Maybe he has a point about jealousy.

  “Trust me, you have never made it anywhere near that part of my mind,” I retort.

  “Hmm, so what does make it to that part of your mind? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  “Am I going to have to constantly remind you that we’re supposed to be working toward me getting Matt back?”

  Frankly, he’s not the only one who needs the reminder.

  “Ah yes, true love.”

  “Don’t mock it because you’ve never experienced it.”

  “Who says I haven’t?”

  “Have you?” I ask, feeling a tiny bit of green tinge the flow of blood in my veins.

  “That depends on your definition of love.”

  There’s a note in his voice that indicates something hidden beneath the surface of his words. It sounds…complicated. The kind of complicated that will mess with my head.

  Which I really don’t need right now, especially when it’s only the first week of school.

  “Anyway, back to my main point,” he continues. “Let’s do this. How does Saturday sound? I’ve got practice during the day on weekends but my nights are free. For anything.”

  I definitely don’t need this right now.

  “You know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Knowing Matt, he’d probably read way too much into seeing me with someone else.”

  Especially if that someone else is Noah.

  I mean, wasn’t I the one who was certain we couldn’t come back from Matt sleeping with someone else?

  Not that I’m going to sleep with Noah! The thought alone has me burning from the inside out.

  “Now I’m beginning to wonder if you do want him back,” Noah says.

  “Of course I do.” It’s a knee-jerk reaction.

  “Do you?”

  I exhale with exasperation. “What point are you trying to get at here?”

  “Maybe you should give him the break he so desperately wants. Explore your own options.”

  “Starting with you, I presume?” I say it mostly as a joke, but I note how bated my breath is on the heels of it.

  “Again, if you insist, Grace,” he says in that suggestive tone.

  I breathe out and roll my eyes, despite the small wave of relief running through me. “Are you sure you and Matt are friends? Whatever happened to bros before hoes or the bro code, or whatever other oh so honorable mantra by which you guys abide?”

  “First of all, I never refer to women as hoes. Second of all, Matt and I are only friends because we’re both from Milwaukee and played hockey in the same league growing up. We come from completely different parts of the city. If you know anything about Milwaukee, you’d quickly see the difference between Whitefish Bay and the South Side, where I grew up.”

  “Really? But…” I think about all I know from their interactions with each other. Matt is always joking with Noah, just like he does with me. I always assumed that was done out of affection…just as it presumably is with me.

  Apparently, Noah doesn’t feel the same way.

  I think about what this means.

  That maybe he’s asking me out for real.

  No, he wouldn’t be that bold. Just because they aren’t best friends doesn’t mean he can’t still want the best for someone, especially a teammate.

 
My hand comes up to my forehead, feeling a sudden headache. I can only attribute it to the maze this conversation has put my thoughts through.

  “Grace,” he needles in a taunting voice.

  “Noah,” I mimic right back.

  He laughs. “I’m going to wear you down, you know.”

  I smile for some reason, the pounding in my head suddenly disappearing. Wear me down? What does that even mean?

  Pursued.

  It’s like a neon light coming to life in my brain. It creates a warm glow, that has my smile broadening.

  “Okay fine.”

  “Really?” He sounds so surprised I almost laugh. “So, tomorrow? Or maybe Saturday?”

  “No!” I say before thinking.

  “Okay,” he says slowly.

  “I mean…” I didn’t realize how soon that was. Tomorrow? As in less than twenty-four hours from now?

  “Sunday then?”

  “A school night?” I say in horror.

  I’m annoyed to hear him guffaw a laugh.

  “If you’re going to tease me for being prudent when it comes to school then—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it, you want to play hard to get with me.”

  “That’s hardly what I’m—”

  “No, no, it’s okay, Grace, I know how the game is played. Don’t want to seem too eager even though you’re secretly lusting after me and can hardly wait to get your hands all over—”

  “You know what, forget it!” I say, ready to hang up already.

  Noah just laughs again, seriously making me think about doing just that.

  Seriously.

  So why don’t I?

  “Okay, how about next Saturday then? That should give you enough of a, ahem, grace period,” I roll my eyes, “to maintain some sense of decorum.”

  “I should say no just on principle.”

  “But you won’t,” he taunts.

  I hate him.

  “For the sake of Matt, I agree,” I say, just to take that ego down a peg or two.

  He doesn’t even nibble at that bait.

  “Of course,” Noah says with mock earnestness in his voice. “I have a feeling you two love birds will be back together in no time.”

  I try another tactic.

  “You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d think that wasn’t your end game.”

  “As in you think I’m secretly interested in you?” he jabs, his voice trying to provoke me. “Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on your part? I mean, it’s only natural for you to have some attraction to me. I’m perfectly irresistible.”

  “Are you trying to make me change my mind?” I reply, working damn hard to silence a laugh.

  “I’ll take that as my cue to hang up.”

  “Good idea,” I say holding back another laugh.

  “Next Saturday then. I’ll call you with the details.”

  I pause, finally realizing what I’ve agreed to. “Okay.”

  “Bye, Grace,” he sings, still teasing me.

  “Bye, Noah,” I parrot, then hang up.

  I sit in bed and stare at the phone. A slow smile spreads on my face. I’m not sure if it’s the potential of finally getting Matt back or…something else. Maybe someone else.

  Then I remember it’s Noah-“hee-haw”-Donahue.

  My smile disappears.

  Suddenly my thoughts are tangled again. This version of Noah does not at all mesh with the Noah of freshman year. Maybe he has grown up like Erin suggested?

  No, if anything, this conversation proves that much isn’t true. But the teasing and barbs he threw at me tonight weren’t mean-spirited like those during that first semester of college. Tonight he was actually pretty amusing, if still as immature as anything.

  At the very least he could have acknowledged what an ass (no pun intended) he was back then and apologized. Tonight he acted like it never even happened.

  That puts a tiny nugget of something troublesome in my head, but I’m too tired to work it out just now.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Noah

  Friday morning, as usual, I’m the first to arrive in the locker room for practice. It’s one of the main reasons I was made captain. I don’t do it to shame my teammates, but to set an example. They all know my goal is the NHL so it’s a no-brainer I’d be here first. Usually, Cole and Evan aren’t far behind me. Today, I’m surprised to see our goalie, Reid Fitzpatrick, join them.

  “Oh captain, my captain!” Reid announces when he arrives with Cole, his arms outstretched as though performing on stage.

  “What are you doing here so early?”

  “I need to ease the burden of my defensemen,” he says, clapping Cole on the back. “Someone’s got to make this schlub look good for the vultures, er, future agents.”

  “Aren’t you planning on being one of those, er, future agents?” I say with a grin.

  “Shh,” Reid says, turning his head back and forth. “My dad has spies everywhere.”

  I grin and shake my head, knowing full well who his dad is.

  Coming to Devington was definitely a culture shock for me. As one of the best schools in the country, it’s not a surprise that it attracts the elite. I knew before starting that I’d be interacting with the offspring of the rich and powerful, even on the hockey team, but it still blows my mind how few degrees of separation there are between me and even the President of the United States.

  Reid’s father is the District Attorney for New York in Manhattan, with his eyes firmly set on governor, and then the presidency. How Reid turned into such a chucklehead—though a damn fine goalie—is beyond me. Still, he’s the most well-liked member of the team, so maybe some of that political charm rubbed off on him.

  Evan’s parents and step-parents are wealthy and even more powerful than Reid’s father. They live on opposite coasts from each other. That means he’s rubbed shoulders with politicians, heads of Fortune 500 companies, and celebrities in Hollywood.

  Cole puts up a good front of having grown up boringly upper-middle-class, coming from the suburbs of Chicago, but he once confided in me that there’s enough wealth in his family to put even Evan’s to shame. It’s somehow tied to his grandfather back in Russia, though he refused to say anything more about it.

  By the time the rest of the team trickles in, the four of us are on the ice, practicing both passing and slapping the puck past a goalie since Reid is here.

  Matt is the first of the later arrivals. Even with the mask on, I can see the scowl on his face as he joins us. I assume it’s at having been shown up by us arriving early, but his attention is reserved only for yours truly.

  “Nice of you to join us,” I say with a grin. If he wants to go pro like he claims, he’s going to have to step it up.

  “Something you want to tell me?”

  Shit.

  I know exactly what this is about. For a brief, terrible moment I wonder if Grace has actually told him about our “fake” dating.

  I quickly dismiss it.

  No way would he limit it to a simple scowl if she had.

  “No, but I have a feeling there’s something you want to tell me,” I say, skating to a stop in front of him. I think about what Cole suggested, tell Matt he’s won.

  The primal alpha in me refuses to concede anything.

  The team captain has a more rational mind, one that definitely wants to make it to the NHL.

  By now, several more teammates have shown up, all stopping to gawk at the sight of something obviously going down between Matt and me.

  “Listen, if this is about Grace, you can drop it right now. She’s all yours,” I say.

  I skate off before my face reveals anything to betray those words. I’m still at the point of winning Grace over—I suspect she hates my guts slightly less than she once did—which means there’s a chance Matt could actually weasel his way back into her life.

  Hopefully, that will put an end to this.

  At least until she’s finally mine.

  Pract
ice has officially started and we’re scrimmaging. I speed down the ice, guiding the puck along, maneuvering around Cole who comes at me fast and hard. I just barely make it past him, still maintaining control of the puck.

  He was enough of an obstacle to slow my trek to the goal, which gives Matt plenty of opportunity.

  I brace myself as he slams me into the boards. He’s more aggressive than he needs to be, which tells me he wasn’t completely sold on my act earlier.

  I just consider it good practice, managing to keep control of the puck despite almost two-hundred pounds crushing me.

  What comes next is what earns him the harsh report of Coach Egler’s whistle.

  I’ve just managed to shove Matt off, spinning the puck around out of his reach to continue on, when I feel my skates chucked out from underneath me. The wind is knocked out of me as I land on my back. I blink in a daze toward the ceiling.

  Then I see red.

  The asshole slew footed me.

  Coach Egler is yelling Matt’s name, and our teammates are also voicing their protests.

  I’m already up off the ice. I spit my mouth guard out and charge at him.

  “What the fuck was that?” I yell.

  Matt skates backward and shrugs. “Sorry man.”

  “Parks! You wanna tell me what the hell that was?” Coach shouts, heading toward us.

  I skate straight for Matt, ignoring Coach’s intrusion. Based on my teammates' expression, Coach is doing the same.

  “You win!” I shout, knowing what the hell this is really about. I’m taking Cole’s advice and putting an end to this shit, at least as far as Matt knows. “I took my shot, Grace said no. Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now?”

  He looks anything but, which for some reason pisses me off. I race at him, grabbing his shirt before Coach can reach us.

  “Because that’s what this is really about, right? Well, consider it done. Now pull your fucking head out of your own damn ass and get it screwed on straight again. Because this kind of shit doesn’t fly, Matt. Not in practice and certainly not during a game!”

  Matt takes a swing and I easily evade it, then use the grasp I have on his shirt to give him one hard shake before shoving him away.