CHAPTER TEN
Sabrina
I purposely entered class as the professor began to close the door so I wouldn’t have to talk to Jeremy. I slipped into my seat and dug into my bag, avoiding eye contact.
“Hey,” he whispered as the professor rattled off the directions for our test.
I didn’t look his way.
“You’re not talking to me now?”
I turned my head slowly and glared at him, before turning back to the front of the room where the professor distributed our tests.
“We need to talk,” Jeremy whispered.
I ignored him and focused on my test. Communications I could deal with. Communicating with him, I could not.
After an hour, I heard the rustling of students turning in their tests and leaving the classroom. Shit. I’d only answered forty of sixty questions. I plugged away at the remaining twenty and put every bit of effort I had left into those answers. Once our professor gave the half-hour warning, I glanced around the room. Only a few people remained. Thankfully, Jeremy wasn’t one of them.
With minutes to spare, I finished writing my final response. I gathered my bag and handed in my test with a mix of relief and confidence. Though it took me longer than most, it had been a lot easier than I expected. I stepped out of the classroom, eager to meet up with Finlay outside so we could grab some lunch.
“Hey,” Jeremy said, jumping to his feet from where he sat on the hallway floor.
I continued walking.
“Wait,” he called, catching up with me.
“What?”
“I waited for you.”
“So?”
He followed me down the stairwell to the exit. “Would you stop and talk to me?”
“Why? So you can come up with some lame excuse for why you played me.”
“Played you?”
When we reached the sidewalk in front of the building, I spun to face him. “How stupid do I look? I know you purposely sent me to Crosby’s room.”
He dug his hands into his pockets, not bothering to deny it.
“I’m not into games. So, whatever you two are playing, I want no part of it.”
“I like you, Sabrina.”
“I think you like making Crosby look stupid more.”
He said nothing.
I walked off, not giving him a second glance.
“Whoa,” Finlay said as she hurried over to me. “What was that about?”
I rolled my eyes. “He tried to explain.”
“What’d he say?”
“Nothing I didn’t already know. You were right about the gaga eyes. He never gave them to me.”
“Say that again,” Finlay said.
“What?”
“‘You were right.’ I love hearing you say that.”
I laughed.
“Come on. Let’s grab a coffee and talk crap about him.”
Crosby
Xavier, our back-up forward, slid his nearly-filled cardboard box over to me. I packed my hundredth box of mashed potatoes into it before sliding it to our goalie JR, who packed the canned corn. The box ended with Jeremy who packed the pie mix.
Coach had arranged a team-building event at a local shelter helping with Christmas care packages for needy families. I loaded another box of potatoes in, passing it along while cursing the fact that we needed to keep up appearances for the coach and the workers at the shelter who were thrilled to have us helping.
“You going out with us after?” Xavier whispered as he slid the next box to me.
“Seriously?”
“It’ll be fun. We never all get to let loose together.”
“Oh, I think these guys let loose fine when I’m not around.”
“Come on. You and me. We’ll stick together.”
I eyed the six-foot redhead freshman, laughing to myself that he wanted to be my wingman. It had been some time since I let loose with anyone. An overzealous freshman was better than no one. “Okay.”
He seemed surprised. “Yeah?”
“What the hell.”
He laughed and passed me another box. “You know how to dance?”
I laughed. “You asking me to dance, freshman?”
His cheeks reddened. “What? Me? No. But girls like guys who get out on the dance floor and dance.”
“You looking for a girl?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind one.”
“Well, let’s see what we can do about that then.”
A smile spread across his freckled face.
If anyone asked me what I thought I’d be doing a year ago at this time, I would’ve said playing pro hockey—not going clubbing with a freshman who was looking to get laid. Yet, that’s what the cards had in store for me. So, I did what I’d been doing since I arrived on campus. I rolled with it.
Sabrina
The music in the bar had been kicked up. The colorful lights over the dance floor flashed. One more drink and I’d be in the middle of the dance floor getting my mother-effing groove on. If anyone deserved it, I did.
“Be back with drinks,” Caden said before heading to the bar and leaving Finlay and me with Forester. Apparently, Forester and his ex—who I’d pushed him back to in a moment of selflessness—had gotten back together over Thanksgiving break, and the guy hadn’t stopped smiling since.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said in that smooth way he did everything.
I waited, unsure what he could possibly need to say to me.
“I never thanked you for your advice at my party.” His blue eyes practically twinkled and his damn dimples dug into his cheeks. Did the guy have to be so hot?
“No need to thank me. It was obvious what you needed to do. Besides, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him, dropping a kiss on the crown of my head like a big brother would do. “I owe you one.”
“Think any of your men will be here?” Finlay asked, interrupting our moment.
Forester’s arm dropped away from my shoulders, and I wished it hadn’t left me feeling bereft. “Men?”
I rolled my eyes. “My friend is clearly buzzed and doesn’t know when to zip it.”
He glanced back to Finlay, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.
She zipped her lips like a little kid would do and tossed away the imaginary key. The girl wasn’t a big drinker, so any alcohol affected her. Usually, it was cute. Tonight, when she was drawing attention to me, not so much.
Forester looked to me concerned. “Someone fucking with you?”
“Retract the claws macho football player,” I laughed. “I can protect myself.”
He smirked. “Says the little spitfire.”
“I’m not little.”
Finlay and Forester exchanged a knowing look before I turned away from them and checked out the dance floor. Couples swayed to the slow song filtering through the speakers.
My thoughts reeled me back to the last time I’d been there. I’d thought something might happen between Forester and me. The way he held me on the dance floor. The way he stared into my eyes. The way he made me feel. Now I knew he hadn’t been seeing me at all. He’d been trying to get over his ex.
Ugh. I was so pathetic.
I could feel someone standing beside me.
“Hey. I didn’t know you’d be here,” he drawled.
I turned to my left. Jeremy stood there. I didn’t even bother trying to hide my disgust. “Why would you?”
“You’re still mad.” The guy was a lot of things, but he clearly knew a disgusted female when he saw one.
“Not mad. Just nothing.”
“Look—”
“No, you look,” I said. “You clearly have something you’re holding over Crosby to make him put up with your immature crap.”
“Says who?”
“Why don’t you leave him alone?”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Maybe the dean will.”
“Be smart, Sabrina,” he warned, his tone hardened and his eyes all wide and scary. “You wouldn’t want to start something you don’t know how to stop.”
“This one of ’em?” Forester said, pulling my attention away from Jeremy.
Jeremy reached in front of me and held his fist out to bump Forester’s—as if he hadn’t just threatened me. “Hey, Trace Forester. Nice to meet you, man.”
Forester didn’t reciprocate, looking to me instead. “You need me to get rid of him?”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d witnessed a scary version of Jeremy and it unsettled me to see how quickly it appeared then disappeared.
“I don’t know what she told you,” Jeremy said to Forester. “But you’ve got it all wrong.”
“No, dude,” Caden said, purposely pushing between Jeremy and me as he stepped back to the table balancing multiple shots and our round of beers in his hands. “You’ve got it all wrong. She doesn’t want to be bothered tonight. She’s out with friends.”
Jeremy glanced to me.
I spun my stool away from him and grabbed a shot, downing it like the rock star I was. Or, at least, the rock star I told myself I was.
“What’s his deal?” Forester asked once Jeremy walked away.
“We went out once, then he pulled a jerk move and sent me to the room of a guy he hates.”
“Crosby’s room,” Finlay interjected.
“Who’s Crosby?” Forester asked.
I grabbed another shot and downed it, wincing at the potency of its after bite.
“Tree boy,” Caden said.
“She calls him Mr. Hockey,” Finlay added. “And he calls her Ice Queen. It’s adorable.”
“So, tree boy plays hockey?” Forester asked, trying to make sense of the information being thrown at him.
I nodded, gradually feeling the warming effects of the shots. “He’s actually pretty good.”
“He’s going pro,” Finlay added.
My eyes shot to hers. “How do you know that?”
“He told me.”
Forester’s phone buzzed on the table. His face lit up as he stepped off his stool and excused himself to take the call outside where he’d be able to hear who I assumed to be his girlfriend Marin on the other end.
“Someone’s whipped,” Caden said.
Finlay knocked her shoulder into his. “I think it’s cute.”
“I think you’re cute,” Caden said.
I rolled my eyes at their corniness, but deep down I knew how great they were together. And if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Finlay. It had taken her a long time to join the land of the living again after her brother died. Now she had an awesome boyfriend who adored her and a friend like me who was simply amazing.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” a familiar voice asked me.
I didn’t even need to look this time. I knew it was Crosby. And I knew the underlying challenge in his voice. “Finlay, did you say something?” I asked.
Her eyes stayed on Crosby who stood beside me as she shook her head, stifling a smile.
Caden laughed. “Sorry, Sabrina. It wasn’t me neither.”
Though I hadn’t looked over, I could feel Crosby’s nearness and smell his woodsy scent. “Well, I only have the stomach for football players tonight. If I see another hockey player, I may be inclined to show my claws.”
Crosby leaned closer, speaking into my ear. “Looks like we’ve got a problem then. Because I’d love to see your claws.”
“You want me to get rid of him,” Caden asked, suddenly acting all tough and protective.
But all I needed was a bar brawl to break out on my behalf. A long, frustrated whoosh left my lips before I swiveled to face Crosby.
A dark short-sleeved shirt clung to his ripped arms and chest, his tattoos there for the world to see. His backward hat covered his black hair but made his light blue eyes stand out in the dark bar. He looked good. Damn good.
Shiiiiit.
The alcohol was clearly messing with my brain. “What do you want?”
A crooked smile pulled his lips up on one side. “Oh, there’re a lot of things I want. But here, I think dancing would be the only acceptable option.”
My eyes flared. “Sounds like more insinuations that I’m a slut who’d let you do dirty things to me.”
“Again, the word slut never left my lips. Nor did the word dirty—though I’d totally be up for it.”
I growled.
He leaned in closer, clearly not deterred by my growing annoyance with him. “I like when you purr.”
“That was a growl,” I snapped, hating that my exasperation was mixing with a slightly-buzzed attraction to him.
“Semantics.”
“Stop!” I said.
“Stop what?”
“This split personality thing. I can’t keep up with which Crosby I’m getting. Either you think I’m a bitch or you realize how freaking amazing I am. Either you think I’m a slut or you’ve figured out I’m a strong confident woman. You need to pick one.”
“I don’t need to do anything.”
My hands bunched into fists. “See? This is why I can’t deal with you.”
“Are you gonna dance with me or not?”
“Not.”
He snickered, seemingly amused. “Why not?”
“Because whether you hate me or like me, I hate you,” I assured him.
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“So are bitch and slut.”
“Never called you a slut and the only reason I called you a bitch is because you left me tied to a tree.”
“You didn’t appreciate my help.”
“Go dance with him,” Finlay called across the table.
What the hell? My wide eyes moved to hers. The traitor winked.
Crosby leaned closer. “Your friend can see you want me.”
“Dude, persistence is good,” Caden said. “But lose the arrogance. Sabrina’s not the type of girl to go for it.”
“Thank you, Caden.”
“And I wasn’t saying she wants you,” Finlay added. “I wanted her to have fun. Any chump would’ve done.”
Crosby burst out laughing. “Any chump, huh?” He glanced to me. “So, you in?”
My shoulders dropped. What. The. Hell? “Will you leave me alone after?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Will you be able to leave me alone after?”
A laugh shot out of me. The guy was delusional. “Oh, I assure you. That will not be a problem.”
He stepped back so I could get off my stool. “Prove it.”
“Watch me.” I hopped down and made my way to the crowded dance floor. By the time I reached it, one of my favorite songs played. My hips swayed and my arms moved above my head as I felt the beat deep inside me pounding away.
Crosby stepped up behind me. His hands landed on my hips. They were strong and steadying and moving right along with the sway of my body. I relaxed, allowing myself to keep pace with the music despite his close proximity. The bass in the song resounded inside my body, thumping in tandem with my heart.
I hated that it felt normal to be dancing with him. That I wasn’t resisting. That I was being weak and disregarding how he treated me. How he acted. All I knew was I had this strong guy holding onto me and he knew how to dance. He knew how to move his body.
The hard plains of his chest pressed against my back, and I relaxed even more, my head dropping against his shoulder. That’s when I felt the hard length of his erection pressing against my ass.
Shit, shit, shiiiiit.
I tried to resist. Tried to stop myself from succumbing to the alcohol coursing through my veins. But my efforts were futile. I pushed back into it. The tingles zinging between my thighs came fast. It was exciting and frustrating all at the same time. The guy I hated could not be the one to awaken my body.
His fingers, still spread on my hips, slipped around to my stomach. I wanted to fight it. Wanted to step away from him. But the hum of my body wouldn’t allow it. He lowered his head, burying his nose into my neck. “You smell amazing.”
Though my thighs quivered, I tried to remain indifferent. “It’s called sweat.”
He laughed. “Well, then I’d like nothing more than to taste your sweat.”
The thought of his lips on my neck sent a delicious shiver rocking through me. “Do lines like that normally work for you?”
“Who said it’s a line?”
His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt and coasted across my bare stomach. “God, you feel so good.”
“You’re a horny guy. Of course I do.”
He shook his head, his nose running along my jawline. “I may be horny, but you still feel right in my arms. I’m wondering how you’d feel beneath me.”
I jerked away from his grasp, spinning to face him. “That.” I jammed my finger into his chest. “That right there is why this was a bad idea.” The traitorous hum of my body persisted as the lights flashed across his confused face. “It’s like you’re capable of being normal for like two minutes then you turn into an asshole. I don’t get it. And I’m over it.” I turned away from him and pushed through the crowd to get back to the table.
Finlay’s eyes told me she’d seen my abrupt departure. She jumped down from her stool and grabbed Caden’s hand. “Let’s go.”
I picked up my beer and downed it.
“Wait,” Crosby said from behind me.
Caden stepped up in Crosby’s face, pressing his hand into his chest. “We’re leaving. You’re not.”
“Dude,” Crosby said.
Forester returned to the table and draped his arm around my shoulder, spinning me away from Crosby. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and all hell breaks loose. You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just another guy being a jerk.”
“I take great offense to that,” Forester teased as we walked outside the bar, leaving the music and people behind us.
I leaned my body against the outside wall of the bar, as we waited for Caden and Finlay to get the car. “You’re one of the last good ones, Forester.”
“Go on,” he said with his signature smirk.
I rolled my eyes.
“You’ll find someone.”
I cocked my head. “You make me sound desperate.”
He shook his head. “Nope. You’re just too good for most of the guys on campus, that’s all.”
I laughed, knowing he was only trying to make me feel better, but it helped. At least until my next encounter with Crosby. The guy had a way of driving me freaking nuts. And what was up with my body’s response to his touch and the words he uttered against my skin?
I had a sinking feeling deep down in my bones that my knee-jerk reaction and quick departure had nothing to do with what he’d said, and everything to do with self-preservation.
Damn him.