by Toni Aleo
He holds my gaze, and I do everything in my power to show that it’s what I want. Because it’s what I need to want.
“Are you sure you want to end our little game we have going on?”
Of course, I do. It’s not a game I can win. Instead of saying that though, I tease, “So sure you’ll lose, then?”
This time, he’s the one glaring. “I can’t wait to put you in your place.”
“In your dreams, Sinclair,” I say, and I find myself locked in a heated gaze with him.
It’s almost like a cat-and-mouse game. I would say I’m the cat, but then I’m sure he would say the same. As much as I don’t want this to ever end, and I would love it to end in the bedroom, I know it can’t. I wouldn’t be able to walk away from him completely put together, and that scares me. The last time I felt like this, it went badly, and I refuse to allow someone else to do that to me.
“I wish you two would just do it and get it over with,” Delanie says then and Mandie agrees.
“For real, the foreplay is kind of disgusting,” Mandie says.
Grinning, he chucks his chin toward me. “I’ll meet you at the table after dinner then.”
He heads for the door, and before he can leave, I say, “Be ready to lose.”
When he glances back at me, he just looks at me with a hooded gaze, and like it’s the easiest thing in the world, he steals my breath away.
And I hate it.
But I can’t control it. His eyes are so intoxicating, so beautiful, and the look on his face, the confident, sexy one has me hot all over. It’s insane and I honestly don’t understand my response to this caveman. Why does he affect me so?
With a grin on his lips, he says, “No, sweetheart, be ready to spill your guts.”
When the door shuts, I glare even more. I don’t like him. Not one fucking bit, and it’s gonna be a cold day in hell before I spill my guts to him.
“I kind of hope you lose,” Delanie says, and I cut a look toward her.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it would be good for you to spill your guts and then fuck your feelings out. Maybe then you can remove the stick from your ass.”
“He’s good for you,” Mandie sings, very off-key, I might add.
“How is he good for me? I don’t even know him and screw you!” I yell at Delanie, but she ignores me, laughing.
“But you like him, which means something,” Mandie says, meeting my gaze.
Letting out an annoyed breath, I say, “Even if that was the damn case, I’m never gonna see him after this.”
“Exactly, so could you really walk away and not regret ripping his clothes off and riding him until you can’t walk?”
“Oh my God, Mandie!” I exclaim.
“No, really, I promise I’ll carry you to the car so you don’t have to walk as long as you let him fuck you into oblivion,” Delanie says then and I groan, dropping my head to the counter. There is something seriously wrong with the people I choose to be friends with.
“You two are killing me,” I moan, but somewhere deep inside me, I’m asking myself the same question.
The scary thing is I don’t think I can answer it with a no.
After setting the table, I try my best to sit nowhere near Jayden, but he sits across from me, a stupid, sexy grin on his beautiful face. I can feel him looking at me, drinking me in, and because of that, I look everywhere but at him as I eat. Delanie and everyone else is talking about various stuff, but I stay silent. I am having an ongoing battle with myself.
Do I have sex with Jayden or not?
The question is killing me because a part of me wants to, but the other part of me doesn’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t think I’m one of those girls who can have one-night stands. I’ve always dated guys and then had sex. The one time I did sleep with someone without dating them was because I wanted to lose my virginity and I knew he was safe. Even then, our friendship ended because he fell for me.
Dumbass.
When they start to talk about Jude’s girlfriend, who is a burlesque choreographer in Vegas, I finally look up to listen, letting go of my internal struggle. It’s obvious Jude is completely smitten with her. The love is radiating off him, and it’s sweet listening to him speak of her. Sometimes, I feel like I’m a hopeless romantic, but the psycho, driven hockey player in me keeps her locked up. I don’t have time to let my heart lead the way. The one time I did, shit went south and I was a blubbering mess. It almost ruined everything. Who I thought I was. My game. My heart. Everything was almost ruined. Thankfully, I’m a strong girl, and I can’t allow that to happen again until I’m ready for it. Still though, I can’t help but be entranced listening to Jude. I hope one day that the guy I fall for loves me as much as Jude loves Claire.
“She’s perfectly imperfect,” he says with a grin.
And I smile back. That’s me. I’m so perfectly imperfect that it’s crazy. Too bad no one will ever understand that.
“I love her for every bad and good thing about her, and I can’t wait to marry her,” he says, and Delanie and Mandie swoon. I have to admit, I do too.
“Oh my God, you guys are so sickening,” Jace says with a laugh. “The funny thing is, he used to be a player to the extreme.”
Jude smiles. “Yeah, but it takes one person to change everything.”
Isn’t that the damn truth, I think. For good or bad, all it takes is one person. To either ruin you or lift you. Unfortunately, I had the bad, but even so, I still crave the good. But first, I gotta get in the NHL.
“It’s awesome that you got picked up by the Kings so you can be close to her,” Mandie says. “I’ll probably follow Jason wherever he goes.”
Jude nods. “Yeah, but no matter what, we were gonna be together.”
“That’s sweet,” I say, surprisingly, not only to me but everyone at the table. Looking up, I see that everyone is looking at me, and I shrug. “What?”
“I’m not sure if you are being sarcastic,” Jude says with a grin. “You’re hard to read.”
“Yeah, she is,” Delanie says, but I smile.
“I’m not. I really do think it’s sweet,” I say, and before I can look down, Jayden steals my gaze. That grin he wears is lethal, and I have to look away just to find my breath. Ugh, how does he do this to me?
“Thanks,” Jude says then, but I don’t look at him as I cut up my steak and drench it in mustard. “So I have to ask, Baylor, where did you learn to play the way you do?”
I look up, ignoring Jayden to look at his brother. “My dad taught me. He played for the Bruins, won the Cup, and then when I was born, he quit.”
“Why?” Jace asks incredulously.
“Because he loved me more than the game.”
“Wow,” he says with his face scrunched up. “I’m not quitting for anyone.”
“You say that now,” Jude says with a shake of his head.
“No, I mean that. Hockey is everything.”
“Agreed,” I say with a shrug.
When Jayden scoffs, I look over at him and I say, “What?”
“You don’t mean that.”
Everyone goes silent as my eyes cut to slits. “How do you know?”
“Because there is no way that you can feel that when your dad made the ultimate sacrifice,” he says so matter-of-factly.
“Sure I can, because I want to repay him by being the best I can,” I say back, but he shakes his head.
“How is thinking hockey is everything, and not quitting if needed for love, going to repay him?”
Leaning on my elbow, I glare at him. “Because when I go into the NHL and I bring home the Cup, my dad will know his sacrifice was worth it,” I say more sharply than needed, but I don’t like that he thinks he knows me.
When Jude and Jace start laughing, I fully expect Jayden to join in—this is the reaction I always get—but his gaze is locked on mine.
“The NHL? The National Hockey League that only men play for? Don’t you mean the wo
men’s league?” Jace asks, but I shake my head as I look over at him.
“No, I will be the first woman in the NHL,” I said confidently.
I watch as Delanie covers her face while Mandie rolls her eyes. Even they don’t believe that I can do it. Jude and Jace obviously think it is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.
“What!?” Jace laughs. “Really? You think so?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jude asks but then stops laughing when I look down. But I refuse to allow myself to be embarrassed. I know I can do it. “You’re not kidding.”
“No, I’m not,” I say simply.
“And why should she think differently?” Jayden says then, bringing all the attention to him. I look up, but he isn’t looking at me, but at Jace. “She’s the only girl I’ve ever seen who could actually pull it off.”
No one says anything, and when his gaze falls to mine, he nods. “I don’t doubt a bit that you’ll make it.”
Before I can say anything, Jace laughs. “Dude, I’ve never seen you work this hard to get laid.”
“Shut up, Jace,” Jude and Jayden say then, and I can’t believe I almost believed him. That I almost thought he was being true.
“You don’t have to mock me, I don’t need your approval,” I say then, and Delanie lets her head fall back, groaning.
Looking over at me from where he was glaring at Jace, he says, “I wasn’t mocking you, and I apologize that my brother is a fucking idiot. I am speaking the truth. Believe me or don’t, but I believe in you.”
No one says anything as the air thickens with tension. For some reason, I want to believe him, but it’s so hard.
No one believes in me but my dad.
And Jayden does want to get laid.
But when I look at him, in his eyes, I’m not only lost in the green depths of them, but I think I may believe him. I don’t understand that. I don’t believe that anyone believes in me. I don’t trust anyone, but for some damn reason—and believe me, it pisses me off—I want to trust him. Stupid and so naïve, I know, but I do.
Looking away because he honestly freaks me out, I look down at my steak to eat and push the idiotic part of myself away, reminding myself that guys are assholes. That they will use you to get ahead. That they are selfish and only look out for themselves. That no one will love or believe in me like my dad does. But then I look up and I see this guy, looking at me differently than anyone else has ever looked at me.
And I just don’t understand it.
Before anyone can say anything, a group of voices comes from the side of the house and then a guy is yelling, “Hey, fuckers! The party is here!”
Jude hops up along with Jace to greet the group of guys, but Jayden doesn’t move as he takes a long pull of his beer.
“These are y’all’s friends, right?” Delanie asks Jayden.
“Yeah, some guys from Nashville drove down to party for the weekend. Then some guys from the Kings are coming too. I heard it’s gonna be insane in a couple hours.”
“Cool,” she says and he nods.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be a good night.”
When he stands, he picks up his plate and then glances over at me, catching me looking at him.
“Come on, Moore, hurry up. It’s time for me to kick your ass.”
I smile as I move my steak around. “Not gonna happen.”
His grin widens before he starts for the house, and I watch until he disappears. Once the door shuts, I regret it since Delanie and Mandie are looking at me with knowing looks.
Looking away, I roll my eyes and say, “Shut up.”
“I’m glad we don’t have to say anything,” Mandie says and I flip her off, which sends her into a fit of giggles.
“But just in case, go up there and fuck him on the table. Please!”
“Whoa, who’s fucking who where?” Jace says, coming up and wrapping his arms around Delanie’s shoulders.
She giggles, leaning her cheek against his. I glare at her, telling her to keep her mouth shut, and thankfully she does. “Me and you, duh.”
“Oh, for sure,” he agrees, kissing her jaw. “I was kinda hoping you were talking about Baylor and Jayden.”
She sends me a look as Mandie giggles beside her. “Oh really?” she asks as I look up at Jace. He’s like a mixture of Jude and Jayden. He isn’t as dark as they are, hair- and eye-wise, but his facial features are a lot like theirs. He’s adorable but looks like a baby, unlike his gorgeous brother who is big and burly. But the way he’s looking at me now, like he’s well older than his years, makes me uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I think my brother likes you. Like more than a random fuck, like.”
“What makes me you say that?” I find myself asking.
“Because he isn’t one to just talk. When he talks, it’s for a reason, and he definitely doesn’t blow smoke up someone’s ass. With you, he respects you. You have to respect a chick to like them, so yeah, I don’t know. It’s weird.”
Looking down, I suck in a breath as he goes on, “I think you’d like him if you got to know him.”
“What’s the point?” I say, looking back up at him. “I’ll never see him again.”
He nods. “That’s true,” he says with a shrug, and it’s obvious he’s bored with me now. Looking down at Delanie, he asks, “You done? Wanna help me start the fire?”
“Sure,” she agrees before getting up, and then they are off, leaving me and Mandie at the table. She stands as I pick at my steak before gathering the plates that were left.
Looking over at me, she says, “I agree. What’s the point, right? But what says you guys can’t keep in contact afterward?”
“I don’t have time,” is my answer to that, but she rolls her eyes.
“You better find time before you’re left with nothing to remember your life outside of the rink.”
She sends me one last look before heading into the house, leaving me to ponder what she just said. As I sit there, picking at the steak that is ice-cold now, I can’t help but wonder if she’s right.
If they are all right…
Looking across the Solo cups at my competitor, I move the Ping-Pong ball in my hand and I know I have to win.
No. That I will win.
Baylor may think she can win at everything she does, but she doesn’t realize that I live in basically a frat house and we do this almost every weekend. Plus, she doesn’t know exactly how badly I want to pick her brain and figure out what makes her tick. Or how badly I want to lay her down and hear her scream my name.
The struggle. It’s real, folks.
With her hands on her hips, she watches me, almost like she is calculating how she is going to beat me. Trying to be one step ahead of me. Maybe to some people that would annoy them; to me, it turns me the fuck on. Pressing myself into the table to hide my growing hard-on, I eye her as I decide where to shoot.
“We playing, or are you going to stand there and stare at me?” she calls across the table, crossing her arms under her breasts, giving me a great view.
But. I. Have. To. Ignore. It.
Or I’m gonna jump over the table and tackle her.
Licking my lips, I say, “Trying to figure out how I’m gonna console you once I win.”
With a bored look, she says, “Don’t worry about that ’cause you aren’t winning.”
“Oh, but I will,” I say, sending her a grin before I shoot, landing the ball in the middle cup.
Fishing the ball out of the cup, she picks up the cup and downs it like a dude. Not like a girl who sips her beer and babysits it. When she finishes, she puts the cup down and sends the balls across the table to me, meeting my gaze.
I’m impressed and a bit scared.
This girl keeps proving that she can give me a run for my money.
“Like beer?”
“Sure,” she answers. “I’m more of a Jack kind of girl though.”
“Hmm, me too. When I win, we’ll crack a bottle open while we talk.”
She laughs before setting me with a look. “Aw, hoping for a cute little share-our-feelings moment where at the end we start to make out and then have sex?”
She presses her hands under her chin in an adorable, innocent way, and I glare at her patronizing manner. She’s giving off a very annoyed, almost angry vibe. I don’t know what is going on, but she isn’t the girl from the bathroom. No, someone’s pissed her off, or she’s fighting so hard not to want me. Either way, she’s screwed. I’m getting under her skin, and she’s gonna like it.
I shrug as I mock that I’m thinking for a moment before looking over at her and nodding. “You know, that’s exactly what I want. Sounds fun, eh?”
I might have added the eh to be a dick, and by the way her eyes cut to slits as she drops her hands, I can tell she doesn’t appreciate my tribute to her Canadian ways.
“Not gonna happen, buddy. Now shoot, so you can miss and I can win.”
“So full of yourself,” I say before shooting it into the cup beside the one I just scored on. “You see, I’m winning right now.”
“For now,” she says, sending the ball my way before downing the cup and looking over at me.
Smiling, I stretch my shoulders before shaking my arms out. It’s all for show though. “I have to say, this tough-guy act you’ve got is turning me on.”
She doesn’t smile as she holds my gaze. “Well, turn yourself off because once I win, you’ll never see me again.”
“Maybe,” I say, just to mess with her before I shoot, getting it in for a third time. When she expels a breath, reaching for the ball before downing the cup, I can tell she’s getting a bit nervous by the way she basically beams me with the ball. Laughing, I say, “Poor loser, eh?”
“Lose the ‘eh,’ asshole, and I don’t lose.”
“Ah, but today you will, sweetheart.”
Clearing her throat, she looks up at me and says, “Didn’t I say I’m not your sweetheart?”
I nod. “You did, but you also said you were gonna beat me, but that isn’t happening.”
I then shoot, getting it another cup, to her dismay. Downing another cup, her face starts to flush before she looks over at me again and I smile.
“Can I have the ball?”