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

by R. C. Stephens

“I’ll go shower. You good?” he asks.

  “Much better. Thank you,” I say, and I watch him walk away, all broad shoulders and tight ass. When he leaves the family room, I bring the blanket to my nose and sniff it. Gosh, it smells delectable.

  “Hey.” Cole Davis walks into the room and sits on the other end of the couch. “What’s up?”

  I stiffen. “Uh, not much.”

  “And you are?” he asks with a grin. He clearly doesn’t remember me from the Firken and the blanket is covering my leg.

  “Rebel. I’m Wolfe’s guest,” I clarify, wanting to kick myself for being so awkward.

  “Oh yeah? I didn’t know Wolfe was having a guest tonight,” he says in a tone filled with inuendo. I don’t even know how to answer that.

  “Was there something else you wanted to watch?” I ask in an attempt to change the tone of the conversation.

  “I don’t know. What are you into, baby?” he asks.

  I feel the blood drain from my face. Did he just call me baby? Is he trying to hit on me, knowing I’m here with Wolfe? I’ve heard this guy is a callous prick, but this is beyond what I expected. Didn’t Wolfe just say they went to grade school together?

  “I’m not your baby,” I say, just as Wolfe enters the room.

  “Damn, I took the quickest shower I could, knowing the vultures were out,” he says and smacks Cole in the chest.

  Cole laughs. “Come on, just having a little fun. Best friends always share,” he continues.

  Wolfe’s face falls into a deadly serious look. “That’s enough, jerk face. There won’t be any sharing here. Rebel will be staying for dinner and you better treat her with respect,” Wolfe demands.

  “Fuck,” Cole jeers, looking at me like I may be some magical unicorn or something. Maybe he thinks I’ve voodooed his friend.

  “You want to continue watching TV?” Wolfe turns his attention on me. “I’m going into the kitchen to start on dinner.”

  “Dude is the best cook in the house, which is weird considering—” Cole starts and then Wolfe smacks him again.

  “Fuck, man. Stop with that shit.” Cole swats him away.

  I wonder what Cole was going to say about Wolfe.

  “I’ll come to the kitchen,” I say, removing the blanket from me and leaving it behind on the couch. I notice immediately when Cole’s eyes land on my leg. His gaze darts to Wolfe, his eyes wide before they quickly shrink back to size.

  He doesn’t say anything as I walk by. I wonder if he remembers me from the Firken now. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care. But how do I stop caring?

  I follow Wolfe to the kitchen, and the fresh scent of his soap wafts in the air behind him. “You all warmed up now?” he asks.

  “Much better.” I nod. My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Blossom. She wants to know where I am. Let her stir a little.

  “Everything okay?” Wolfe asks.

  “My sister wants to know where I am,” I say. “I’ll let her worry a little longer.”

  His lips press together as he walks to the fridge and takes out the chicken breasts along with some lettuce, tomato, and cucumber.

  “How was the rest of your weekend?” he asks, and he looks me up and down. Holland’s sweater is way tighter than what I usually wear and dips in the front too.

  “It was relaxing. Holland is a workaholic. She basically did homework all weekend. She’s premed so she needs the grades. I got some work done too and just relaxed.”

  “You look different.”

  “I’m wearing Holland’s clothes.”

  He nods. “So you worried about going home all weekend?”

  “I think Preston has unofficially moved in. I mean, I knew Blossom would find someone and want to settle down eventually. I just didn’t think it would be with a guy like Preston.”

  “That sucks. How does she not see what’s right in front of her?”

  “I wish I knew.” I shrug. “How were things with your sister?”

  “She’s a senior. I was trying to convince her to leave home for college next year. She’s dealing with some personal stuff and I think she feels bad about leaving my mom alone, but it isn’t fair for her to be responsible for our mother.” He sighs.

  “It’s hard. I remember thinking we could help my dad and then there was the accident,” I say. I can’t believe I just mentioned that. I give my head a shake. I’m not going there. “Anyway, I learned the hard way that you can’t help an addict. They need to want to help themselves.”

  “I wish Cait understood that. I can’t let her give up on her dreams,” he says as he rinses the chicken, puts it in a corning ware dish, and spices it up. He then begins to pour rice in a pot.

  “You seem like a good big brother,” I say.

  “I don’t know about that.” He shrugs as he adds salt to the rice.

  “Let me help you cut up the salad.”

  “You don’t have to. Honestly, you’re my guest.”

  “I want to.” I give him a reassuring smile.

  He shrugs and gives me a cutting board and knife. I walk over to the sink and wash the vegetables, thinking that this whole situation should be awkward or weird, but it isn’t. I’ve somehow managed to feel relaxed around this hunk of a hockey player, even if my heart skips a beat every time his eyes land on me.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get Blossom to see what’s right in front of her.”

  “Can’t help you with that one. I stopped in to say hi to my mom while visiting with my sister and she was totally spaced. I don’t even know if it’s her self-medicating or her just ignoring me,” he admits.

  “That’s hard. My dad wasn’t a quiet addict. He would go wild and get violent.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Wolfe says quietly as he stirs the rice and boiling water.

  I continue slicing the cucumber and tomato. “It’s horrible to say I’m relieved that he’s gone.” I’ve only ever admitted that out loud to Blossom so I don’t know why I just did now, but it feels good to say none the less. My father had become a tyrant. His death felt like a new freedom. I finish chopping the veggies and add everything to a bowl Wolfe gives me.

  “Not really. I mean, I don’t want my father to die or anything. We just don’t get along. He’s obsessed with working and he doesn’t give a shit about our family. Even now, he chooses to work out of state, even though Mom is in shambles and my sister… it doesn’t matter. Point is, I don’t want him dead, I just want him giving a shit.” He looks sad after his admission.

  I place my hand on his arm, possibly to console him. I do it without thinking, and he turns to me, his eyes lock with mine, and from here I can see how truly blue they are. But they aren’t just blue. Close to the pupil is a light hue of green and the outer part of his eye is outlined in a dark blue circle. He is breathtaking. His gaze drops to my lips, and I think he’s going to kiss me as he drops his head ever so slowly toward me. Every nerve in my body tingles and something warm swims low in my belly.

  “Is dinner—” Cole walks through the door and Wolfe pulls away from me. My hand drops from his arm and I see Cole with his jaw dropped. “Sorry, I-I...”

  “It’s fine,” Wolfe snaps as he turns to check on the chicken in the oven. “Chicken needs another fifteen,” he says, sounding angry.

  My mind is still spinning over the fact that Wolfe almost kissed me. I thought he didn’t think of me in that way. We’re friends. That’s what he said.

  “Dec isn’t coming for dinner. Said he’s busy,” Cole informs us.

  “Cool, more for us.” Wolfe nods, but he seems distant or, I don’t know, maybe agitated?

  Cole leaves the kitchen and Wolfe stays quiet. Is he unhappy about the moment we just had? He said he saw me as a friend, but what on earth just happened between us? Was it the intimate conversation? I’ve never had a friend who was a boy, or guy for that matter, before.

  “If you have work that needs to get done you can hang out and do it after dinner,” he offe
rs.

  “Thanks, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I think I’ll head to the library after dinner. It’s my night off from the Firken and I need to get some assignments completed,” I say.

  “Well, it’s quiet here, but suit yourself,” he replies.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask. I much prefer the talkative Wolfe over this moping and silent Wolfe.

  “Fine,” he answers.

  Okay then.

  I offer to set the table and he gives me some paper plates and plastic forks and knives saying that none of them can agree to do dishes so they go disposable.

  I take a seat at the table when Cole swings back through the kitchen door. “It’s raining and snowing.”

  Great, and I don’t have a jacket. So much for the library. I really don’t want to go back home to listen to Preston and Blossom going at it.

  Wolfe places the food on the table and we all serve ourselves.

  “This looks really good,” I say to Wolfe.

  “Told you. He’s the best cook in the house. He got his nanny to teach him how to cook before he moved in here,” Cole says.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Wolfe says to him curtly.

  “Your nanny?” I ask Wolfe.

  “She’s my family’s housekeeper,” he says, and I wonder what that’s all about because I remember him saying that he was at Westfall on full scholarship and couldn’t lose it. Not your business, Rebel.

  “So, do you live on campus?” Cole asks.

  I shake my head. “No, I’ve got a house around the corner from here.”

  “Cool.” Cole nods. “Is that hot waitress from the Firken your roommate?”

  So he does remember me from there. Dammit.

  “No, I live with my sister. The house used to belong to our parents.”

  “So, you grew up in Westfall?” Cole asks.

  “I did.” I nod.

  “What’s with the twenty questions?” Wolfe snaps.

  “I’m just making polite conversation with your guest,” Cole answers.

  Wolfe doesn’t respond, but he does stab the fork into his chicken breast with extra force. I wonder what’s eating him.

  The remainder of dinner is silent. I praise Wolfe’s good cooking skills and he grunts in return. I don’t know where the friendly talkative guy from earlier went. I’m not liking this silent brooding version of him, though.

  I help Cole clean up dinner since he’s on cleaning duty. Wolfe stands off to the side, his hip against the kitchen counter as he scrolls through his phone. His perma-frown is still plastered on his lips.

  When everything is clean, I look at Wolfe, his wide shoulders, his icy blue eyes. His personality is hot and cold tonight, which feels like whiplash.

  “All done,” I say.

  He looks up from his phone. Cole mutters a thank you and says he’s going to hook up with some chick. He leaves the kitchen.

  “Do you want to get your work done here?” Wolfe offers.

  “I don’t think so.” My voice comes out curt.

  “Why?” he asks, like he’s confused.

  “Because you didn’t say one word during dinner,” I retort, as if it isn’t obvious.

  “So I wasn’t in the mood to talk. You can still stay.”

  “I think it’s best I go.” I walk past him out to the main room that leads to the entrance of the house. “Thanks again for dinner.”

  “Well, I’m driving you. The weather is a mess. There’s no way you’re walking home without a jacket on,” he insists.

  “Are you always so demanding? Or are you just used to getting what you want?” I cock my brow and wait.

  “Is this about the nanny thing? Because it’s not who I am. What I told you was the truth. I don’t have much money because I don’t want anything from my parents. I get by on my own,” he explains.

  “Good for you,” I say. Why does he feel the need to explain himself if he still wants to act like an asshole?

  He blows out a harsh breath like I exasperate him. “I’m still driving you home.”

  “Fine,” I snap, even though I don’t know why I do. Him driving me is a nice gesture. It’s just his attitude that stinks.

  For some reason he grins. “Let’s go, Rebel.”

  He passes me his coat and tells me to put it on. It’s so big on me, I practically swim in it. He puts on his hockey jacket and we head out the door. I take a quick sniff of his coat. It smells like his body wash and personal scent. A grin escapes my lips. Wolfe can be so frustrating but so chivalrous too.

  Twelve

  Wolfe

  Rebel has to be the most frustrating girl I’ve ever met. She’s beautiful and doesn’t know it. She’s smart and doesn’t own it. I just want her to see what I see. A beautiful woman with a lot going for her. Doesn’t she get that her missing limb doesn’t define her? She is so exasperating. And, fuck, I wanted to pound Cole when I found him hitting on her. When I said Rebel isn’t for sharing, I meant it. Problem is, those words leaving my mouth caused a whole bunch of inappropriate thoughts to enter my mind once again. On Thanksgiving, I passed it off as me being a guy and just getting turned on by a good-looking chick, but then she needs to go and get all deep with me. I’ve never had a friend who’s a girl before, so I don’t know how things go, but when we have these deep conversations, something tugs in my chest. I get the same feeling when we’re in the car talking too. I couldn’t pin it down until I almost mauled her in my kitchen. How could I move in on her like that? She was vulnerable and opening up to me about her family and my gaze trailed to her bow-shaped lips and my mind went to dirty places of us. No. Thinking about licking and sucking those lips is wrong. And, shit, I’m getting hard just thinking about it. I don’t know why I want her so badly, but I do, and this can’t be good. She’s my friend and her trust matters to me.

  “Are you going to stay silent the whole drive home?” she asks, pulling my mind from the tornado brewing inside me. “It’s not a long drive, but, I mean, I kind of got used to you talking a lot. This silence is no fun.”

  “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I say and make a quick adjustment of my cock pressing against my jeans.

  “Like what?” she asks.

  Oh, Rebel, if you only knew. I want to bury my dick so deep inside you. Shit. Stop this now.

  “I don’t know,” I say stupidly.

  I pull onto her street and then into her driveway. There’s a motorcycle parked out front. “Is that the douchebag’s bike?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, don’t worry, though. It’s fine. I’ll just head up to my room and get some work done there.”

  “I’m not so comfortable dropping you off with that shitbag in there.” My brows furrow at the thought.

  “It’s fine,” she assures me and opens her door to get out. “Thanks for the ride.”

  I turn off the ignition and reach into the backseat for my backpack, which I forgot to bring in the house earlier. I get out of the car with her.

  She side-eyes me with her brows furrowed. “Um… what are you doing?”

  “I’m coming in with you. I have some work to do too. We can just work side by side.”

  “You want to come into my house?” Her eyes are wide and a little panicked.

  I nod and press the button to lock my car doors.

  “Wolfe, I never really have guests and…” She looks terrified.

  “It’s no big deal. I just want to make sure this guy won’t be making trouble, and if he does, I want to be here to stop it. You don’t need to live in fear,” I say, remembering our conversation from my kitchen. She feared her dad when he was alive. No one deserves to live like that. Especially not her.

  She watches me as we stand out in the freezing cold. A rain and snow mix is falling.

  “Come on, open the door before we freeze.” I nudge her arm.

  She turns away and opens the door. There is a little entrance that leads directly into a kitchen.

  “Rebel. Geez, I was worried about you,” a wom
an with long, dark hair says.

  She kind of looks like Rebel, but not really. Their coloring is so different and she looks older and very tired. There’s a guy sitting at their little kitchen table.

  The woman pauses when she sees me at the door.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see your guest,” she says to Rebel.

  I reach out my hand to shake hers. “Wolfe Judd. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Her sister shakes my hand. “Blossom. Rebel’s sister. Pleasure to meet you too.”

  I look over at the douche sitting at the table. He’s wearing a wife beater and a pair of jeans with the top button popped open.

  He nods to me but doesn’t introduce himself.

  “Hey, I’m Wolfe, nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand to him too. He may not want to have pleasantries, but I do. He needs to know that Rebel has friends looking out for her.

  The guy just nods and says, “Preston.”

  He doesn’t shake my hand.

  Asswipe.

  He looks like he must be at least three inches shorter than me and he doesn’t have weight or bulk on him. I could take him if I need to.

  “Wolfe and I are going to go do some work in my room,” Rebel tells her sister.

  “Okay. Did you want to have some dinner? I made spaghetti,” her sister says.

  “I’m good. I ate at Wolfe’s place,” Rebel tells her. My stomach sinks at the thought that they eat a lot of pasta. Probably because it’s a cheap meal.

  Her sister nods and smiles. She looks on edge or nervous.

  I follow Rebel up to her room. It’s a three-bedroom house like ours. Rebel’s room is what I would expect from her. Neat and clean. She has a white metal-frame bed and a white comforter that has little pink flowers on it. She also has a white desk in the corner with a lamp and a chair.

  “I only have one desk,” she says.

  “I don’t mind doing my work on the bed.”

  She swallows hard. This whole situation is making her nervous.

  “He didn’t want to shake your hand,” she states, referring to the douchebag downstairs. “Why do you think that is?”

  “Because he’s a douchebag,” I say. “He’s not a man. Truth is, I get bad vibes from him.”