“Damn it,” he whispers. “Was really hoping you’d sayno chance in helland make my life easier.” He paces some more—I’m sure that’s exactly what he’s doing. “Just promise me something, Isla. Promise me you’ll be careful. He’s got a lot ofanger in him, okay? He has every right to, but that doesn’t mean I want him around my baby girl.”
I want to ask why he keeps saying things that indicate he knows more about Hendrix than I do. But I know he’ll tell me that he can’t say the details because they are confidential. My dad helps with Brody’s One Wish foundation. It’s an amazing program that helps kids who are less fortunate go on to chase their dreams when it comes to athletics. And Brody, coming from a rough past, is a sucker for broken boys like Hendrix.
They know things about Hendrix’s past. But I don’t. I can’t judge him for things I’m not aware of.
“I’ll be careful, Dad. I love you.”
“Is this your way of ending the call?” He half chuckles, though the worry is still in his tone.
“Maybe.” I smile. “Bye. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you, sweetie. Bye.”
Pressing the End button, I tuck my phone into my hoodie pocket and continue my walk home. I know that my dad didn’t give me his blessing, but he also didn’t say that he forbids it either. I’m not even sure right now if I want to go on any more dates with Hendrix.
But I can’t say that I don’t want to either.
HENDRIX
As I drive away from the arena, my palm continuously swats thewheel, coming down onto the leather over and over. I knew that word had gotten out about me taking Isla on a date—big fucking deal. She’s an adult. I’m an adult. Who cares?
Cam Hardy, folks. Apparently, he does.
Oh, and Cade Huff. Add him to the list.
Wait, there’s one more. Brody O’Brien, who has always acted like a mentor—even when I didn’t fucking want one. He also called me right before practice and left me a two-minute voicemail, explaining why I need to stay away from his niece.
Three hockey legends. All pissed at me for taking the golden girl out on a date.
What the fuck would they think if they knew what we did in the utility closet?
I’d one thousand percent be dead by now if that were the case. No joke.
Brody knows about my past. He had to learn it all in order to find me eligible or not for the scholarship he deemed that I needed. It didn’t matter to him that I had spent a few months in juvie. Hell, part of me thinks that’s why Coach Huff agreed for me to be here to begin with. Because he’s got a fucked-up past, and I think he feels sorry for me.
Well, I’m not him. I’m not a fucking drug addict. I just get mad occasionally. And when I get mad, sometimes, I black out and get into fights with people.
But they always deserve it. I’ve never beaten the piss out of a stand-up citizen. No, the motherfuckers I lay hands on are the scum of the earth. But when it comes to Brody, Cam, and Cade, all they can focus on is me corrupting their perfect Princess Isla.
If only they knew the other side of her. The side of her that’s begging to come out. It’s the one who rode my face in the closet and also the one who lost her shit on Margo that night at the restaurant.
I bet her daddy doesn’t even know she has that side.
Cruising down a hill, I squint my eyes as I take in a girl walking, her messy blonde braid swooshing along her back with each step she takes. Her leggings hug every fucking inch of her legs and ass, and I’m practically salivating just from the glimpse of Isla Hardy.
Slowing to a crawl when I get beside her, I roll my window down.
“What, Nineteen … you run out of gas again?” I call out, smirking her way.
She glances at me, rolls her eyes, and looks forward, never slowing down a bit.
“Very funny, Hunt,” she grumbles. “No. I just thought it would be a nice day for some fresh air—that’s all.”
I know she’s lying. I had to get in an early workout this morning, and the women’s hockey team was already deep into their practice when I arrived at the facility. Who in their right mind would want to walk a few miles after morning practice?
“Is that it, huh?” I toss back, knowing there’s more. “Didn’t have anything to do with those pictures of us on social media? Or the fact that your daddy and your fifty uncles are all losing their shit?”
That makes her stop and turn toward me. “What do you mean, my uncles?” Her face pales. “Wait … did my dad, like … call you?”
