I suppress my cringe.
He drops into the seat behind me, then leans forward. “What a nice surprise.”
“Yep. Party bus was full.”
He smiles knowingly. “Uh-huh. Hey, you didn’t text me back.”
Willow chokes behind me.
“I’ve been busy.” I don’t bother looking to see that Amanda is glaring holes in my head, too. I can feel it from here. Also, I forgot about her crush on him.
Damn it. That means I take the cake for shittiest friend. I literally didn’t think of anything except using him when I put my number into his phone. But I can’t very well say that to her, can I?
Not right now.
Miles comes down the aisle and pauses beside Steele. “Hey, man. Greyson wanted to talk to you.”
Steele snickers. “Did he?” He leans back in his seat, kicking his legs out. That move shouldn’t be sexy, but it is. Every time. Especially on someone attractive like Steele, whose abs could probably have their own zip code.
I mean, Greyson’s could, too, but he’s not in front of me right now. And when have I paid attention to him shirtless? Never. See? Greyson isn’t on my mind. And he’s definitely not messing with my head at all. Not me.
“I’m comfortable here,” Steele continues. “Talking to my friend, Violet.”
Willow makes another noise in the back of her throat, and that’s the only warning I get before Greyson looms over us.
Miles scrambles out of the way.
Greyson grabs the front of Steele’s shirt and lifts him. He doesn’t so much as look at me as he drags his housemate toward the front of the bus. He throws him into a seat and marches back to me. His knee comes down on the edge of my seat, and he leans over me.
“Stop playing games,” he hisses.
I meet his gaze.
Somehow, that got under his skin worse than anything else. I shift forward, until we’re nearly nose to nose. “You don’t fucking own me.”
He smiles. “No?”
“No.”
“We’ll see about that.” He straightens and backs away.
Just in time for Coach to come barreling down the tight aisle, stopping just before he crashes into Greyson.
“Get back to your seat, Devereux,” he snaps. His attention sweeps over us, his face scrunching in disgust. “Fucking party bus. And you.” He glares at me. “You should know better.”
I’m so surprised, I can’t say anything. Not until he’s turned around and made his way back to the front. He sinks into his seat, and I let out a slow, shaky breath.
What the fuck was that?
Willow makes a face. “And here I thought we could ride under the radar.”
“Hate to break it to you, but that was never going to happen.”
25
GREYSON
I’m supposed to be preparing for the game. Mentally. The team we’re facing is undefeated, which is already a setback. They’re coming in confident. If their coach has done their job, the team won’t be arrogant. They won’t make shit plays. Of course, we’ll be on the lookout for weak spots.
We spent the week reviewing tapes, both of our previous games and theirs. Hunting for holes in their armor.
This game is important. Coach warned us at the start of the season that this point in our season, if we played smart, would make or break us. And he’s right. We’re two wins away from qualifying for the national tournament. Two games left to play. If we lose, we’re out.
Then the real battle would begin.
Even if we do make it into the tournament, we’ll have to face this team again. The Knights have more funding and a larger school than us. They’re monsters. Who knew this little Vermont town would be so crazy about hockey?
But instead of mentally preparing, I’m thinking about Violet.
And Steele.
It infuriates me that he thinks he can just slip in and take her away from me. If that’s what he’s doing, he’s going to lose some teeth. I’ll beat him bloody, and I don’t plan on playing fair. The asshole is two inches taller than me and packed with twenty-five pounds more muscle. It’s what makes him a good defenseman. He can check someone into the glass like no one’s business.
Even so, I’d risk it.
Steele sits in the seat in front of me. I’ve put my headphones in, trying to block everything out. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. I force my muscles to relax, and I run through plays in my mind.
We hit a pothole, and I’m jolted out of my thoughts.
“Fuck!” I growl. I rip my headphones out and stand. I lean over the back of the seat next to Steele, putting my face in his. “What the fuck is your problem?”
He smirks. “I like aggravating you. Interesting things happen.”
“If we lose—”
“Relax, hotshot. Maybe you’ll let Erik score for once.”
I snort. “There’s a reason you asshats haven’t been able to get into the tournament in years. Because Erik is good, but he’s not great.” He’s not me.
Just speaking facts.
Steele’s gaze hardens.
I sit back, then rise on my knees. Ten rows back, Violet chats with her best friend and a few other girls… and Miles. Jacob has taken Steele’s spot, too. I ball my fists and stand. I’m halfway to her before she notices, and then the rest of them do, too.
“What’s your problem, man?” Erik glares at me on my way by. “Just chill the fuck out.”
Like I’m interrupting Miles’ and Jacob’s time with the girls? What the fuck?
Fuck, everyone is getting on my nerves, and it’s all because she’s on this damn bus. Before she can ruin everything and open her mouth, I latch on to her wrist and haul her up. She doesn’t offer a word of protest as I drag her up the aisle.
Similar to what I did to Steele, but a bit more gentle.
Just a hair.
I sit and pull her down on my lap. She lets out a little squeak and tries to stand, but I grip her tight. Her back rests against the window, her legs toward the aisle. I don’t know how comfortable it is, and I don’t give a shit.
This isn’t about her.
“Just fucking sit still,” I grunt. I pull out my headphones and replace them in my ears. I hit play on my music, a special curated playlist to repeat the same few songs. They always help me get in the zone, and I know them so well I can recite all the lyrics.
She goes quiet. Her hands fall to her lap, and she tips her head back against the window.
Then shifts.
I should close my eyes, but I’m watching her try not to squirm.
I think she’s more curious than anything. I shift, and her weight moves toward me. She’s looking toward Roake, who has his head buried in a book. He won’t look up until we get there—that’s guaranteed. When she realizes that for herself, she relaxes the slightest bit.
So it isn’t me—it’s what others will think.
Interesting.
I slouch in the chair, making it easier for her to fall into me. And eventually, she does. She seems resigned when she puts her head down on my shoulder. Every breath she exhales hits my throat.
But I’d rather deal with this, and the goosebumps, and the way my blood rushes to my cock, than jealousy.
She reaches up and takes one of my earbuds out. I almost protest, but I keep my mouth shut. She slips it into her ear and closes her eyes, her hand landing on my forearm. And then she goes still, and the rest of the world fades away, too.