“Nothing,” I mumble and bite into my burger.
She places her sandwich down and leans toward me. “If you aren’t busy later and you’re looking to have some fun, I’m free. In fact, I’m available every night this weekend,” she says. I appreciate her confidence and I’m totally cool with a woman taking the lead and propositioning me. I’m just not into her.
“I’m busy this weekend,” I mutter.
“Why are you being so cold?” Tiffany asks, her lips turning down. “Don’t you remember the party at Alpha Sigma Phi?”
I draw a blank.
“The weekend you got your cast put on,” she clarifies. “You showed up with crutches,” she continues. “OMG.” She tilts her head back. “You don’t remember having sex with me?”
Fuck. This isn’t good. I’m basically telling her she isn’t memorable. Dammit. I hope Rebel doesn’t come back right now, because I don’t want her thinking poorly of me. I have a “holy shit” moment at the realization. I want Rebel to think I’m good. Worthy. What is wrong with me? I need to shut this Tiffany thing down fast. “I’m sorry, Tiffany. The weekend I got injured, I was angry and got pissed drunk. I don’t remember anything,” I say to her and watch as her face morphs into disgust. My words aren’t working. “Seriously, it’s not you. It’s me. I was messed up over some things and—”
“Then we should rectify that?” she asks, her scrunched up features smooth out and her lips curve into a seductive smile.
Shit. Shit. Why am I freaking out over her advances?
Because Rebel can come back from the washroom and get the wrong idea and that’s the last thing you want. But how do I brush Tiffany off respectfully? It’s not something I’ve worried about in the past. Yet my palms are sweaty as fuck.
“I don’t think so. And it’s not that I don’t find you attractive, I just need to take a step away from all the hookups,” I say, not recognizing my own voice. Who am I?
You’re trying to be a better person, Wolfe, a voice inside my head says, and I know it’s because of Rebel. I want to be good enough for her.
“Why?” Tiffany asks. Geez. This girl won’t take a blatant hint. “Are you into Rebel?” Her lip pulls up on one side like the thought is incomprehensible to her.
I rub my palms against my jeans, removing the buildup of sweat. “That isn’t any of your business, and I just need time because of personal issues I’m dealing with.” Fuck, why won’t she lay off? It’s none of her damn business, and Rebel clearly doesn’t want people to know we’re friends.
She leans back in her chair and watches me like she’s seeing me for the first time. I want to tell her to get lost because she’s hitting my last nerve.
Rebel walks up to the table and I smile at her. I also pray that Tiffany will shut the fuck up.
She smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes the way it usually does. She takes a seat and eats her burger quietly until Tiffany asks her questions about some classes they have together. Tiffany then goes on to ask Rebel for some of her notes. Rebel agrees. Tiffany finishes eating.
My mood has sunk and so has Rebel’s. I hate to see Rebel deflated because of Tiffany. She shouldn’t let people get to her like that. I figure it’s because of Tiffany’s comment about her leg, which seems to be a sore spot. I also understand that I may be more sensitive to Rebel’s feelings because I’ve seen what Cait has been through.
Tiffany finishes eating and throws a twenty on the table. “That should cover my part,” she says. “Thanks for the company.”
“Bye,” Rebel says to her.
I’m in no mood to talk to her nosy ass at all, so I give her a brief nod and mutter goodbye.
“Do you need a ride?” she asks Rebel.
“I’m good,” Rebel says.
Tiffany looks between Rebel and me like we’re rats in a lab. Then she focuses on me and says, “Maybe I’ll be seeing you around this weekend, Wolfe.”
“I’m busy,” I tell her. I don’t owe her an explanation if I’m not into tapping that again.
She huffs a bit, feigning offense. Not much I can do about that.
Tiffany leaves and I turn to Rebel. “You can’t let people like her get to you.”
“I’m not,” she says, but I can see the truth.
“Fine. I’m just saying.”
“Did you make a plan to meet up with her?” she asks, surprising me. Although, by her tone, she sounds a little hurt.
“I told her I was busy.”
Rebel nods and her phone buzzes. She picks it up.
“Oh no,” Rebel says.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“It’s Holland. Her father had an emergency with a patient at the hospital and he bailed on Thanksgiving dinner, but she still wants me to come.”
“Damn,” I say. Parents can be so messed up.
“You should come with,” Rebel says. “I wasn’t scheduled to go over there until seven thirty. Her father uses the best catering company and the turkey is always amazing.”
“I’m usually not one to pass up a good meal,” I say. But it would be weird to spend Thanksgiving with Rebel and her best friend. “I should really catch up on my work,” I finally say. I can’t believe I was actually considering it.
“You sure?” she asks again, this time her lips forming a pout. A very kissable pout.
“Yeah, but thanks.” I smile.
She goes back to texting her friend.
“Is it okay if Holland picks me up from your place?” she asks.
“Sure. We can watch more Money Heist while we wait,” I say, waggling my brows.
Rebel smiles and it hits me in the center of my chest, making me feel warm. She goes on to text her friend and I peek at her phone, seeing my address and a response from Holland that says “Holy shit. I can’t believe I’m picking you up from Wolfe Judd’s place.” I don’t say anything and Rebel doesn’t seem all that fazed either.
I pay for her burger and then we head back to my place.
In the car, she turns and says to me, “You know, I really don’t get why people call you a heartless player.”
I don’t have a legit answer, so I shrug and think of Tiffany, because she would definitely agree that I’m a heartless player.
Eleven
Rebel
After spending the rest of the weekend at Holland’s house, I walk back into my place Sunday evening and see Blossom in the kitchen. “We need to talk,” I tell my sister as I walk through the door. I look around for Preston but don’t see him. “Is he here?”
Blossom is wearing a pair of cut-off jogger shorts, a tank top, and no bra. She looks like she just rolled out of bed at five in the evening.
“Preston?” she asks.
I nod.
“He’s still in bed,” she says. I hadn’t seen his bike outside, but maybe he’s parked it in the garage now.
“What’s up? I’m exhausted. I just want a warm bath.” She sighs. I had texted Blossom on Thanksgiving letting her know that I would be staying at Holland’s the rest of the weekend and she told me to have a good time. She clearly enjoyed having the house to herself, but this thing with Preston has to end.
I place my backpack on the hook by the front door and make my way to the kitchen table. “I need you to sit down,” I say.
“Damn, what’s going on? You aren’t pregnant, are you? Because I haven’t seen you with a boy since Trevor.”
I roll my eyes. “Not pregnant. Just take a seat.”
She falls back into a kitchen chair. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Preston is doing drugs,” I blurt, so I don’t lose my nerve.
“No, he isn’t. He’s on probation. He isn’t allowed to use. He used to, but he stopped in prison.” She shakes her head.
Sweat prickles my forehead. Is she listening to herself? “Blossom, you are beautiful. You have so much going for you. Why are you settling for a guy who’s been to prison?”
“He’s a good guy. You’d know if you actually g
ave him a chance. He ran with the wrong crowd when he was younger and got into some trouble, but he’s clean now. He holds a steady job at the mechanic’s shop, and I think I’m falling in love with him,” she says.
Her last words cause my heartbeat to slow. “I saw him snorting lines of coke on our bathroom counter,” I tell her and then it feels like I’m holding my breath as I wait for a response.
“Why are you trying to ruin the first good thing I’ve had in a while?” she counters.
“How could you think that?” I ask, truly offended. “You’re the only family I’ve got. I love you. I just don’t understand how you could fall for a guy who is so much like…” I can’t even say it out loud.
“Daddy,” she says, springing to her feet. “Is that what you wanted to say?” She flails her hands in the air. “Preston isn’t anything like Daddy. He’s trying to straighten out his life. He’s working hard.”
“He’s bringing drugs into our house,” I shout back at her, feeling the blood pumping fast in my veins.
“No”—she lifts her pointer finger at me—“this is you being paranoid. I gave up my chances at college so that we could stick together. You don’t get to dictate my life,” she snarls and stalks off. Tears well in my eyes. Blossom has never thrown her choices in my face like this before. I knew she gave up on getting out of this town to take care of me, but, foolishly, I never stopped to think what that meant. I need to fix this, but how? She doesn’t believe me about Preston. Her heart is so set on the loser and doesn’t see the writing when it’s in her face and on the wall.
The kitchen door opens and Preston peeks his head in. “Hey. Hope I’m not interrupting.”
Just freaking great.
He probably heard the whole conversation through the thin walls. Feeling overwhelmed, I grab my backpack and head out the door. I had planned to go upstairs and change into my own clothes, but that will have to wait now. I don’t trust Preston, and Blossom is clearly too emotional right now. Blossom doesn’t stop me from leaving and it saddens me because we are usually so open and attuned to each other. She must really be upset.
I slowly take the stairs of the front porch.
Preston comes after me. “Hey, Rebel. Sorry, was it something I said?” he asks, his voice raised but tone friendly.
I roll my eyes, but he doesn’t see because I don’t turn around to answer him. I just trudge along the side of the road. The temperature has dropped to below freezing and I didn’t take my jacket, but there’s no way I am going back in there. Not after my sister thought I was lying and basically chose that loser over me. I wrap my arms around myself and shiver as the wind whips against my cheeks. I’ve never felt so alone and lost before. Blossom and I were always a team. As I pass Mr. Hucksberry’s porch, I stare at it, hoping he’ll be out here and maybe invite me inside for a cup of cocoa, but he doesn’t sit out here so late this time of year.
Walking to Holland’s house is too damn far. I have no choice but to head to campus.
Blossom is all I have and it feels like I’m losing her.
As I walk, I replay the conversation I just had with my sister.
“Rebel?” This time when he says my name, I know exactly who it is.
I spin around. “Are you following me, Wolfe? This can’t be a coincidence,” I snap at him, because my emotions are running high and my verbal filter is clearly lost.
“I went for a run. I need to get my endurance up,” he says, moving in a slow jog beside me. “Where are you going? The Firken? I can give you a ride.”
Something about his offer causes my blood to boil. “Stop offering me rides. It’s getting ridiculous. I get you feel bad or whatever that I don’t have a leg, but I got along fine before you started giving me rides and I’ll do just fine now too.” My anger and frustration with Blossom have clearly caused me to lose it on Wolfe and for no good reason. He’s offered me good conversation and a warm car, and here I am biting his head off.
“So you’re having a bad day too?” he asks cautiously.
“Too?” I question.
“My sister called me this morning. Mom was having one of her out of control moments and my father left for Washington right after they finished dessert on Thanksgiving. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it’s under control now. I decided to go for a run, which was mostly a slower jog, but it helped me chill out.”
“I’m sorry, Wolfe.” My anger deflates. “That can’t be easy.”
“It’s not,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. His breaths come quick, I guess from the run. He looks adorable in a Dragons hoodie and sweatpants. And the way his light eyes glow in the dark has my stomach doing back flips.
“I know, and I just got back from Holland’s,” I say.
“How was Thanksgiving?” he asks.
“It was fine,” I say. “How was yours?”
“Fine,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate either. Sometimes it feels like he comes across as being a loner or maybe just lonely, but that can’t be right. He has so many friends and he’s popular. “So why are you out here shaking like a leaf with no jacket and looking like you just lost your best friend?”
“That’s perceptive,” I say.
“I play hockey. I’m aware of my surroundings, and I have a gift for reading people, although, maybe it’s not such a great gift because sometimes people are just assholes,” he replies.
“I confronted Blossom about Preston doing drugs and she doesn’t believe me,” I say, seething. “She is so far gone on the guy that she can’t see past his bullshit.”
“Shit. I thought you two were tight.”
“We are. I can’t believe she would think I’d make something like this up.” Anger radiates from me once again.
“So where are you going now?”
I shrug. “I had to get out of there. Preston walked in on our shouting match and it was just too much. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. I’m heading to campus to sit in the library.”
“You can’t just sit in the library all night. And, geez, where is your jacket? It’s freezing.” He takes in my shivering form.
“I left it behind in my haste to get the hell out of there. The idea of him doing coke in our house scares me or turns me off, I don’t know.” I rub my arms for warmth. “He hasn’t even lost his cool either, so I don’t know if I’m overreacting or not. I just don’t like his type.”
“I don’t think you’re overreacting. I wouldn’t put up with the drugs either.” Wolfe takes a step closer and hugs me. Long, strong arms envelop me and, despite the cold temperature, he warms me from the inside out.
“You should come back to my place. Cole and Dec are back, but I’m forcing them to lay low tonight because we have a game tomorrow. So there won’t be any partying, and I’m on dinner duty,” he says. I’m confused. Did he just invite me to his house for dinner?
“Thanks, but I’ll just head over to campus and grab a bite to eat and then maybe get some work done in the library,” I say.
“Rebel, come on. I thought we were past this. Besides, I wouldn’t mind binging a few more episodes of Money Heist.” He gives me a crooked grin I find hard to resist. “You can even get some studying done. My friends can act like idiots and drink too much on occasion, but there are no drugs in our house. And if they act like fools, I’ll punch them in the face.”
“That’s quite the offer. What are you making for dinner?” I ask, raising my left brow.
“Oh, so you’re a picky eater?”
I’m not picky at all. The way I grew up, being picky wasn’t an option, but I play along anyway. “Yes.”
“Chicken breasts, rice, and salad. Does that work?”
My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?”
“Is that good or bad?” he asks, looking confused. “We try to eat as healthy as possible on the nights we eat in.”
“That would be seriously amazing,” I say, but then I falter mid-step, remembering when Cole was pissed drunk at the Firken and asked me about my leg. �
�On second thought…” I’m about to cancel.
“What just happened?” Wolfe asks. He watches me intently, like he cares, warm blue eyes zoned in one me. Since I’m not used to having friends other than Holland, I’m still not sure what to make of him or this friendship we seem to have going.
“I just remembered I shouldn’t come to your place,” I blurt, because I’m not a fast thinker and so I wasn’t able to come up with a better excuse.
“Why’s that?” he asks, his lip quirking on one side.
“I don’t hang out with people like your friends. It may be awkward and I don’t want to intrude,” I say quickly and begin to walk away.
“Rebel?” He keeps pace with me and just watches me. “If it’s Cole’s comment at the Firken—”
“No, it’s fine,” I say.
“It’s not fine, and he won’t be inappropriate, because if he is, I will kick his ass. We’ve been friends since grade school, so trust me when I say I can whip his ass, no problem.”
His words shock me. Is he heartless or full of heart? In the meantime, I’m shivering even more.
“Geez, you’re coming home with me.” He links his arm with mine. He smells of sweat and some delicious deodorant or cologne, I’m not sure, but my pheromones are definitely liking it. He takes my backpack and places it on the floor once we’re inside his house.
“Have a seat on the couch. Here’s the remote. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to hop in the shower quickly before I start dinner,” he says, then he pauses and looks at me. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
I’m confused. Is he going to shower or be right back? I take off my Doc Martens and curl up on his couch, hoping I don’t have to deal with his friends when he isn’t around. I scroll through Netflix.
Not even a minute later, Wolfe returns with the same blanket he gave me last time with the Sherpa lining.
“This will warm you up quickly,” he says and covers me with it, tucking in the corners. Is he trying to make me fall for him? Because it’s working like a charm. That can’t be it, though, because Wolfe doesn’t work to get girls.
Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series) Page 9