“You’re on the wrong floor, dumbass.” Bristol blocks me from leaving, a wicked smile on her face.
My phone buzzes, and I retrieve it from my pocket, glancing at Iris sending me a text.
Waiting. ETA?
“My mistake. I wouldn’t want to bother you.” I gesture to the door behind her, and she cackles.
It’s one of those unmistakable witchy cackles. Oh gosh, the girl is going to put a spell on me. Or maybe it’s a hex or curse. Is there really any difference?
“Girlfriend?” Bristol guesses. She looks amused, eyeing me up and down. “I saw you play tonight. You weren’t—bad.” She really knows how to get under my skin.
“I kicked ass on the ice.” I glare at her, stepping closer. She can’t intimidate me like she did when we were six.
I’m not claiming to be a saint. Sure, I picked on her, but she was a rich kid. It wasn’t anything she didn’t deserve.
My twin sister and I were only enrolled because of our biological father, whom we didn’t even know until we were four. Getting thrown into a new home, new school, new family, it was wild and turbulent.
I had a few rebellious years early on, when I met the brat who stands in front of me, but she continued to torment me at any chance she had.
And, of course, I fought back.
It’s what we Morettis do.
“You think you played good tonight?” Bristol folds her arms across her chest, her Predators jersey rising up slightly as she argues with me.
The creamy skin of her stomach and her freckles call out to me.
Fuck no.
I glance away.
She snorts and throws her hands up in the air. “See, can’t even look at me. You know I’m right. You played worth shit.”
“I scored a goal.”
“One measly goal.” Bristol meets my gaze. “Your teammate is a better hockey player than you.”
I invade her personal space, my arm coming up against the door, blocking her in, keeping her within my grasp.
“Say that again,” I growl at her.
Bristol stares up at me, her gaze not the least bit wavering. “You’re a shitty hockey player. Your teammate Ricci, he knows how to fucking score. You should take lessons from him. Maybe he’ll teach you how to hold your stick and?—”
I lean down and bite her lips. My heart pounds wildly out of control.
Her body pauses for a brief moment before she succumbs, wrapping her fingers in my hair. The kiss deepens, her lips part, and I’m pushing my tongue inside of her mouth, exploring her in a wave of unrelenting passion.
With one hand on her waist and the other against the door, I pull her closer, tighter against me.
Bristol’s hands move from my hair down to my waist. She manages to spin us around, her tongue sliding across mine, and fuck, her fingers are digging into my hips, clawing at me.
She’s a beast. Had I known, I’d have kissed her years ago.
Swiftly and expertly, she opens the door, shoving me out into the hallway. “You have to go.”
Her lips are swollen, her breathing ragged.
I’m not sure how I even ended up out in the hallway, gasping, my heart thumping against my ribcage as she slams the door in my face.
