End Game_Bellevue Bullies Series

by Toni Aleo

“Right? Not an ounce of fat on her!”

  He nods in agreement as I continue, “It’s really annoying. I carry all mine in my ass, you know what I mean?”

  He sputters with laughter, his eyes teasing, and I glare. Though, my grin probably says I’m not offended at all. “Are you making fun of my ass?”

  “Oh no,” he says quickly. “That ass of yours is nothing to joke about. Worship is more like it.”

  Stupid heart. “I’ve never had a guy worship my ass.”

  “Yeah, you have.”

  “I haven’t!”

  He gives me a sly grin. “You just don’t know it.”

  His eyes sparkle, and I can’t stop my lips from curving before I look away, limping toward the massive house now only a few feet away. I have heard stories of this house, how the best parties are held here. Seeing it up close, I don’t think it looks like a party house full of dudes. It looks classy, nice. Well kept.

  When we reach the stairs that lead up to the front door, I go to take the first step when his hand comes into mine. Ryan laces his fingers with mine. He presses his hand into my palm, and my heart stops. Dead in my chest. “Careful now.”

  I don’t know if he felt the jolt of heat run up his arm, but mine is on fire.

  Oh hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sofia

  I find myself seated in the dining room of the Bullies’ house, and there is so much more I could be looking at. Yet I’m staring at Ryan’s naked torso as he delves into the first aid kit. Before I found myself mesmerized by him, I did check out the room. It is decorated beautifully in shades of teal with a huge black dining table in the middle. On the walls are oil paintings of dudes I don’t know, but their names are below each painting. I’m not trying to learn their faces or even their names; I’m too busy drinking in every single detail of Ryan Justice.

  Like how his brows pull in when he reads a bottle. Or how he bites his full bottom lip as he holds up every single bandage, making sure they will work for each of my cuts. My mouth is dry and my body is trembling, but I don’t say anything as he gathers what he needs.

  “So, a double back tuck with a triple twist is what broke the knee, but how did you tear the ACL?”

  I shouldn’t be impressed that he remembered—I mean, he is a gymnast’s brother—but I am.

  I really am.

  Damn it.

  “Same move.”

  He scoffs. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I knew I could do it.”

  “Did you?”

  “I landed both, but they ended badly.”

  “Hardheaded?”

  “Oh yes, personality flaw.”

  He shakes his head, crouching down before me. “Or not.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “Not at all. Means you’re driven, won’t back down.”

  “Oh,” I say slowly as he sprays some antiseptic on my knee. I almost complain until he blows softly on my wound, his eyes never leaving mine. The last thing on my mind is complaining, but giving words to what I’m thinking isn’t gonna happen.

  For his safety and mine.

  “Probably ’cause I’m hardheaded too.” When he winks at me, I’m surprised I don’t fall out of my chair. No guy has ever winked at me. Ever.

  Apparently, Ryan Justice specializes in it.

  Swallowing hard, I look down where he is patting my knee with a napkin. “So, it’s a flaw, but we ignore that?”

  “Yeah, anything that can make us look weak, we don’t ever own up to.”

  Ah, he’s speaking my language. But if we don’t move on, I’m gonna tackle him to the ground. What in God’s name is wrong with me?

  Clearing my throat, I ask, “So, you tore your ACL?”

  “Yup, sixth grade. I was out a whole season.”

  “You actually stayed out?”

  He gives me a dry look. “Come on now, you know I didn’t. I was on a crutch with a hockey stick in the other hand, shooting at the goal. I got in so much trouble with my parents, and the only reason I wasn’t on the ice was because I wasn’t driving yet.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and when I strained my other knee in high school, I still went to the rink. Amelia’s tattletaling ass always told on me, though.”

  A giggle leaves my lips. “She did?”

  “Always, which is cool. I got back at her when she broke her arm but tried doing things on her beam in her room.”

  I give him a nod. “Way to go.”

  “Right?” he laughs as he moves to the next scratch on my leg. “You don’t have siblings?”

  “No, I’m an only child.”

  “How is that?”

  I shrug. “I mean, I was in the gym twenty-four seven. When I wasn’t, I was sleeping.”

  “So the girls in the gym were family, then?”

  I shake my head. “I went to a very competitive gym. Even when I was in Texas, we were nice to each other, but we all hated each other. No one was friends. We all wanted to beat each other to get the top spot.”

  “But the top was your spot?” His eyes are dark as they hold mine, stealing every single breath I have.

  “When I wasn’t hurt, it was.”

  He nods slowly as he bandages me up. “Which I doubt was often. You probably hid a bunch.”

  I quirk my lips. “Something like that.”

  We share a small smile before he goes to clean the next scratch. I really did a number on myself. “You don’t have to do this. I think the big scrape was the one that would have given me a problem getting back to my dorm.”

  He waves me off. “I’m here. Stop trying to run off.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are,” he throws back at me before glancing up at me through his lashes. “Probably because you don’t want to be around such a pretty boy and all.”

  Kill me now. I bite my lip as he watches me, his fingers moving ever so softly along my leg, sending jolts of shocks through me. I swear his touch is like getting staticky clothes out of the dryer, but in a way, it’s satisfying.

  Because, obviously, I’m insane.

  “Nothing to say to that?”

  I shrug. “I mean, what do you want me to say?”

  “Deny it?”

  “Why? That would be lying.”

  “Throw Amelia some shade?”

  “I’d never do that to my best friend. I know what I said.”

  “So you think I’m a pretty boy?”

  “I do.”

  His eyes darken. “Is it my lashes? My cousins say I have girl lashes.”

  I shrug. “Maybe.” His eyes are trained on mine, and everything inside me is melting like plastic on a stove. He has me hot but also squirming. When his lips press together in a thin line, I swallow hard. “I don’t like your hair all greased to the side. Plus, who shows up to a meet in a three-piece suit?”

  He smiles ruefully. “I’ll give you the thing with my hair. I hate doing it like that, but I have to match my team. If you look at the painting on the wall, you’ll see we all have to dress like that.”

  I look to where his hand is pointing. Jude Sinclair looks back at me, his hair greased back, in a nice suit, and his green eyes shining. I hate that I have to eat my words. “So I guess you don’t feel you’re a pretty boy, then?”

  He scoffs. “No, I’m a man.”

  Now, it’s my turn to scoff. “Well, for a man, your shorts are too tight.”

  His eyes are challenging as he says, “Well, sweetheart, I gotta keep things in place when I’m running.” My brows come together for one second before I realize what he’s saying. Of course, I look right down at his crotch, and because the universe likes fucking with me, I not only get an eyeful, but he sees the whole thing. “It’s contained. For now.”

  Please. Kill me now.

  “I wasn’t the least bit worried.”

  “You shouldn’t be. I’m a gentleman,” he says, standing, and it takes everything and more for me to not look at his crotch once again. “Also, no one
runs at four a.m., which is probably why your shorts are just as tight and shorter.”

  I bite my lip as I pull down the front of my shorts. “A gentleman, huh?”

  “Hey, I’m a gentleman, but I’m also a hot-blooded non-pretty boy who has desires for a gorgeous woman in tight shorts.”

  Not sure what to say, I blurt out, “I was running.”

  “I wasn’t complaining.”

  Silence stretches between us as our eyes stay in a heated embrace. I want to run and hide and kill his sister, but I don’t move. My breathing is out of this world, and my heart is going crazy in my chest. When he runs his tongue over his lips, I squeeze my thighs together, begging my body to calm the hell down.

  I can’t have him!

  But man, do I want him. His chest is mouthwatering, his hair is in his eyes, and those shorts, short as they may be, are riding low on his lean hips. I’ve never in my life been drawn to a guy the way I am being pulled in right now, which is telling me something.

  Run like the wind, and don’t fall this time!

  But before either of us can move, the front door flies open. I expect him to look toward it since my back is to it, but I’m finding our shared flaw of being hardheaded is in full force right now, and neither of us moves. His eyes go a little bit darker as I try to breathe, squirming in my seat as he towers over me.

  Lord, he is so big.

  So thick.

  My body is not listening to me!

  I want to touch him so badly.

  But, thankfully, whoever is at the door says, “Justice, we gotta get to the rink. What are you doing?”

  “My friend here tripped on the track. I’m fixing her up. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Your coffee?”

  “Hand it here.”

  The guy from earlier comes around the table, and even though he is skinny, he is one beautiful man. His eyes are a dark topaz, while his hair is neatly cut and a very dark brown. He needs to shave, but then, I don’t think he cares. I’m pretty darn sure this is Moon, but maybe I should have paid better attention when Amelia was showing me pictures of him.

  “Thanks, Moon.”

  Apparently, even in a lust-filled cloud, I still have my wits about me.

  That’s a plus. I think.

  Moon looks at me and smiles. “Hey.”

  “Bye, Moon.”

  He looks back to Ryan as I hold back my laughter. “But you didn’t pee on her and claim her as yours.”

  “Get out,” Ryan demands, all kinds of sexy authority dripping from him.

  Moon’s laughter fills the room as he heads out the side door, but Ryan’s eyes still haven’t left me. He sets the coffee on the table before crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Amelia likes him.”

  “He’ll die if he touches her.”

  Oh. God. “Protective.”

  “Yeah,” he says simply. “I have to look out for what I love.”

  Breathless, I blink. “She can take care of herself.”

  He shakes his head. “Guys are stupid.”

  “Aren’t you of the male variety?”

  “I am, and I have a tendency of being stupid.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Like now, I’m aching for a girl who doesn’t want anything to do with me. One who thinks I’m a pretty boy, and yet, I want to do everything to prove her wrong, when I really don’t have to. I have nothing to prove. I am who I am.”

  I nod supportively. “Plus, you’d be wasting your time.”

  “That’s for me to decide.”

  Heat rushes through me as he pins me with a look that tells me he won’t stop. While it excites me, it scares the living shit out of me. Swallowing hard, I clear my throat. “Are you done with my legs?”

  “Nowhere near done, but you’re cleaned up.”

  My breath catches. “So, I’ll go.”

  “If you want.”

  I shoot him a quizzical look. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  “I do, but I’d never ask you to leave.”

  I just blink. What in the hell am I supposed to say to that? One thing is for sure, I gotta get out of here. I point to the door. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go.”

  “Okay.”

  As I stand, he doesn’t give me much room. His body is so large, inches from mine, leaving me to shimmy to the left to get away from him. In doing so, though, my hand comes in contact with his coffee, since I am too busy trying not to touch him. Thankfully, I don’t knock it over. I catch it instead and push it back some on the table before nodding down to it. “You shouldn’t drink that before practice.”

  “No?”

  “It won’t sit well on your stomach.”

  “Worried about my stomach?”

  Damn it. My eyes go right to his stomach, or better yet, his abs, before darting back up to his eyes. “Not at all.”

  His lips curve at the sides, and as he blinks, his lashes caress his cheeks in a very dark and sexy way that has my own gut feeling as if I’ve drunk six coffees and thought it would be a great idea to do a few bar routines. “I beg to differ.”

  “Well, you’re wrong,” I say offhandedly, trying hard not to be affected by this man, but I am failing so miserably.

  He licks his lips, his eyes so devilishly hot that I am finding it very hard to think. “You want it.”

  My eyes widen as panic fills me from head to toe. Is he offering himself to me? No! Run! Ah! My voice is high as I ask, “What?”

  He smiles wider. “The coffee.” His gruff chuckle runs down my spine as I gawk up at him, feeling stupid as all hell. “What did you think I meant?”

  I snatch the coffee up. “Nothing. Of course, you were talking about the coffee.” I take a long swig, and I may be a bit annoyed that it’s my favorite drink from Starbucks. An almond milk cinnamon macchiato.

  When a soft moan leaves my lips, his grin grows. “You like it?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Mine too.”

  Leave, Sofia. Leave.

  The heated gazes we share have everything inside of me boiling. I know if I don’t leave, this coffee will hit the ground and my back will be on this table. “Okay, well, thanks for helping me out and the coffee—”

  “Maybe we can get a cup this afternoon after classes. Around three?”

  My grip on the coffee tightens. “I have practice.”

  “Oh, then after,” he says, not the least bit derailed. “I can meet you at the gym, and we can—”

  “No.”

  He narrows his eyes a bit. “No?”

  I shake my head as my heart pounds harder than ever. “Yeah, no.”

  Silence surrounds us as I gaze up into his exquisite eyes. I can tell he doesn’t get told no often, and I don’t know why that sends one hell of a jolt of excitement through me.

  “Can I ask why? I thought we moved past the pretty boy thing.”

  “We did,” I answer before swallowing hard. “But I don’t date, and from what I hear, neither do you.”

  “Where did you hear that from?”

  “Your sister.”

  Anger flashes in his blue depths. Some might think it was scary, but I think it’s hot, which only further supports my decision to turn him down. “Of course she did.”

  “Yeah, not that it matters. Since both of us don’t date, and getting coffee means dating.”

  “Or getting to know each other.”

  “Which leads to dating.”

  “Or sex.”

  My gut tightens. “And I don’t have time for either,” I say simply, yet his grin doesn’t flatten.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  The challenge in his eyes turns me on like no other. My whole body is singing for him, but I have to mute that crazy bitch. She’ll get me in loads of trouble. “Probably not.”

  “No, we will,” he calls back to me as I head to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Sofia Castilleja.”

  I hesitate for an instant because he pronounced my last nam
e perfectly. To me, that means he asked his sister how to say it since no one says my name right. “Probably not as soon as you’d like, Ryan Justice.”

  As I go through the door, he calls, “You have no idea.”

  And my vagina, yeah, it promptly blows up. Which is good. Maybe it will leave me alone and stop lusting after Ryan. But that leaves my brain, and all it’s doing is saying: Ryan, Ryan, abs, Ryan, shoulders, abs, Ryan, short shorts, sweaty shoulders. Throw your damn V-card in his face and go to bed right now.

  Over and over again.

  Yup, I’m screwed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan

  I’m leaning into my stick as I stand in line watching as my linemates go. It’s early as fuck, and I’d rather be chasing Sofia around, but here I am. Baylor’s voice fills the rink when Willy, our fourth liner, misses a pass.

  “Are we playing peewees? That was a solid pass. You didn’t put your fucking stick down!” Willy makes a face, annoyed, but Baylor isn’t wrong. “Get it together, or I’ll sit you so fast your head spins. Don’t forget, everyone, I have as much pull as Coach. This is nothing to fuck around with! We are here for a reason, and that reason is you guys are letting things happen that don’t happen in college hockey.”

  Baylor is in a wonderful mood.

  Willy gets in line again while another pair goes. Moon and I already went; we kicked ass, and now we wait again for another go. While I should be watching and learning from my teammates’ mistakes, my head is full of thoughts of Sofia and that little dip between her eyes.

  Man, she was hot this morning—and spunky.

  While her ass and thighs were on full display—and we all know how I love those thighs and that ass—they weren’t what caused my dry mouth and made me beyond turned on. No, it was her boldness. She wasn’t like most girls around here, compliant and sweet. No, she had this spark in her eyes and was quick-tongued.

  She was mighty fun, and man, I wanted so much more.

  I wanted to taste that sweet mouth of hers. I wanted to hold her ass in my hands and stare into her dark hazel eyes. I thought my pride would be a little more dented when she turned me down. If anything, all this morning did was ignite a fire within me to have her in my arms and her lips against mine.

  Oh, I want it so bad.