Even though I haven’t even seen him yet, I somehow know not just that he’s here … but that his eyes are on me. And even though I could say I hate it, secretly … it feels good. But, hell no, I’m not going to tell him that.
HENDRIX
I sit at the bar, pissed that I can’t even get a drink because Coach Huff and Coach Talmage are both here—probably making sure the team is on their best behavior.
Ironic, seeing as I know for a fact that Huff sure as hell wasn’t on his best behavior when he was a sophomore in college. Fuck no, he was the opposite. So much so that he had to go to rehab, but I don’t think anyone would ever suspect that he has such a dark past, looking at him now.
“You sure I can’t get you your usual, handsome?” Mallorie coos, leaning forward on the bar and giving me a seductive look. “I won’t tell.”
“All good, sweetheart,” I answer, giving her a little smirk. “Maybe later, once these fun killers are gone.” I jerk my chin toward the other end of the bar, where Talmage and Huff sit with their ice waters.
“If you say so. But I’ll be here all night,” she says before taking a cherry from a dish and pulling it between her lips, giving it a slight suck. “In case you change your mind.”
Normally, that little stunt would have sent a jolt right to my dick. And I’m sure Malorie is damn good at deep-throating a dick. I can just tell from the look she’s giving me that she knows her way around a cock. But ever since I tasted Isla in that closet, I just don’t have the desire to hook up with anyone.
Well, other than her.
I’ve tried to get her off my mind, but there was something about the way she looked all broken and let me take away her pain that ruined me completely. I’ve had plenty of chances to bewith other women, but when it comes time to seal the deal … all I see is her.
Malorie walks off, and I turn to look at the corner booth just as Jameson and Clark take the seats to the right of me. Before I acknowledge them, I watch her for a moment. The girl whose image I fucked my hand to right before coming here. She sips her drink with her straw between her plump red lips, and there’s that jolt, telling me my cock has awakened.
I’ve never been the type to think about someone too much, but with her, she consumes so many of my thoughts. And ninety percent of them … are fucking filthy.
“Yo, earth to Hunt,” Jameson says, nudging my side. “Quit staring at that poor girl, would you? You’re probably freaking her out.”
Before I turn toward him, Isla’s eyes find mine, then narrow. She casts a glare my way for a few seconds but turns her attention back to her friends. Just like back at the hockey combine, I still get under her skin.
And I fucking love it.
Toying with Isla gives me a type of high I’ve never experienced before. But being her salvation when she was about to fall apart? That was even fucking better.
Looking forward, I take a sip from my Coke and glance at the guys. “I thought Coach was making a speech or some shit. We’ve been here for almost an hour. I haven’t heard a damn word.”
“What, you got somewhere else to be and need them to hurry up?” Clark says, leaning around Jameson to smirk at me. “I keep seeing you look over in that corner booth.” His eyes travel to the where Isla sits. “Not that I can blame you.”
Clark is the biggest fucking player I’ve ever met. And he’s a bit of a cocky prick too. The dude is a freshman, but because he came from some fancy private school, he acts like he’s God’s gift to this program.
I didn’t mind him before just now, but the way his eyes are lingering on a certain wild-haired blonde, he’s quickly moving to the bottom of my shit list.
“Eyes off Hardy, Leeman,” I command sharply, cutting my eyes to his. “Look at the other four as much as you want, but unless you want me to bash your face off this bar and make your teeth a permanent fixture at this restaurant, you need to stop staring at her.”
His head rears back, and I wait for him to lose his shit. Only that never happens. Instead, after a moment or two, he just breaks out into a deep laugh before reaching past Jameson’s back and slapping mine.
“Well, fuck me sideways. Hunt’s fucking pussy-whipped.”
I know he’s a sandwich or two short of a picnic, but I have no idea just how fucking stupid he really is, until he looks at her again and I hear the next words from his lips.
The answer is really,reallyfucking stupid.
“Must be good at taking a dick, that blondie. Seeing as she’s got you acting all crazy,” he drawls slowly as he lifts his glass to his lips.
Everything turns red as the words he just said play in my ears over and over again.
Before I can even stop myself, I’m off my stool, grabbing him by the back of his head and smashing his face against the bar. My body turns to steel, and I feel like the vein in my neck may fucking blow as I drag him backward and grip his neck.
“I dare you to say one more fucking word about her,” I challenge, fully aware that the entire room—including my coaches—are watching me. “I promise, it’ll be the last thing you ever say, fuck?—”
I’m quickly pulled off him, and he grabs his throat and falls against the bar.
