Tears sting the backs of my eyes, threatening to spill out, but I force myself to keep them in. I don’t want him to think that I actually care—because I don’t. I just … am being sensitive right now.
“Fuck off, Hunt,” I hiss, but of course, he jumps in front of me, stopping me like a goddamn wall and grabbing both my wrists.
“Are you going to listen, or do I need to throw you over my shoulder and make you?” He’s frustrated, though there’s also a sense of panic in his tone.
I simply glare up at him, not wanting to hear whatever he thinks he needs to say.
“The toast was just some stupid thing that Jameson said about getting laid—that’s all.” He dips his head down, his eyes burning against mine. “I just happened to be standing there—nothing more.”
“Admit it, Hunt,” I demand. “You set out to fuck someone tonight, and I happened to be who you came across first. Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’ll have to find someone else.”
His grip tightens on my wrists, only making my heart speed up despite how dumb I feel right now.
“You’re wrong,” he says sharply. “The only girl I want to take home tonight is you, Isla. But I didn’t set out to try to fuck you.” His lips float over mine now as he bends down to my height. “Have I fucked my hand nearly every day, sometimes twice, since you rode my face in that closet? Yeah, I have. And I’ll go home tonight and do it again, imagining it’s you. But that doesn’t mean I followed you down this hallway just to get my dick wet.”
Heat pools between my legs, and my mouth waters as I imagine him pleasuring himself to thoughts of me. I’m sure none of that was true, but it’s thrilling to think about.
For a moment, I stand here, lost in his words—lost inhim.But finally, I pull in a deep breath and close my eyes for a second before opening them again.
“My friends are waiting for me. I have to go,” I mutter, pulling my hands back, though he doesn’t release me. “Please, Hunt. Just let go of me.”
This is a guy who tormented me practically the entire time at hockey camp, has been kicked out of a college for fighting, and is a designated fuckboy. I’m here at NEU to make a name for myself through hard work and talent—not just because of the name on the back of my jersey and my dad’s legacy.
I don’t have time to get caught up in boys like Hendrix. Still, whenever he’s around, I feel myself slipping. I need to be stronger.
Reluctantly, he drops his hands from my wrists. He’s not angry or possessive, but instead, he gives me the slightest ever-so-playful grin.
“Because you said please, I’ll let you go. But make no mistake when I tell you this, Isla.” His face hovers over mine. “When I want something … I don’t stop until it’s mine.” His eyes dance between mine intensely. “And what I want—what I have wantedsince you came all over my tongue in that closet and fell apart for me—isyou.” He moves his hand between us, brushing it over my hip. “So, I’ll be seeing you, Nineteen. You aren’t going to get rid of me just yet. That’s a promise.”
It takes me a moment to gather myself, and he doesn’t leave while I do. Instead, he waits in front of me, leaving me no choice but to step around him and head back to find my friends. I need to get the hell away from this man.
He’s one more bad decision just waiting to happen.
Only now, I don’t need anything to regret added on my list. So, I don’t have any use for Hendrix Hunt.
TWELVE
HENDRIX
“Good work,boys. I think we’ll be ready for our game this weekend.” Coach Huff pauses. “Maybe.”
“Head on out, fellas,” Coach Talmage calls out. “Also, there’s been some talk that a few of our players are skipping classes. I don’t want to hear that shit, so cut it out.” He waves his hand. “Now get on out of here.”
We all head off the ice and make our way into the locker rooms. There are only a few of the guys still joking around and acting like idiots because this practice was brutal and focused a lot on conditioning, which means we got our asses kicked. I think the only one who didn’t break a sweat was Cash. Even in full goalie gear, he looks like he could have gone another hour.
“Dude, how the fuck do you still look fresh as a daisy?” Jameson asks, looking him up and down. “I’ve got sweat literally dripping down my ass crack right now. And I think I probably lost five pounds.”
Cash grins, and I know he’ll downplay it like he isn’t some insane, supernatural hockey god because that’s just how he is. Imay tease him that he’s a kiss-ass, but I know no one will ever be as hard on the kid as he is on himself.
“Maybe my drills weren’t as tough as yours were today—that’s all.” He shrugs, sitting down on the bench to start peeling off his gear. “Trust me, I was sweating. My gear smells like ass.”
“You can just say it, Hale.” I grin, pulling the rest of my gear off, along with my shirt. “We all let ourselves get out of shape during the off season, and you didn’t.”
“Hey, you guys are getting better every day,” he says. “The first week, a lot of you were puking.”
“That is true.” I chuckle and head toward the shower.
Turning it on as hot as possible, I pull the curtain closed before stepping inside.
