Chapter Two
AURORA
I’m not supposed to be here right now, but there’s something about basketball players that messes with my ability to exercise self-control.
I said I wasn’t coming and Emilia is already waiting for me at the hockey house, so I don’t know why I let Ryan freaking Rothwell convince me to abandon my plan and swing by. What is it about tall, muscular men who are good with their hands that makes me weak? It’s one of life’s great mysteries.
One that half the women at Maple Hills are trying to work out judging by the crowd at this party.
With several of the team’s players graduating, tonight is their final party. Ryan and I said goodbye to each other four times last week and, as great as he is, we both know he’s not going to keep in touch. He has the NBA draft next month and I’m under no illusions I’ll be invited to sit courtside any time soon. But that didn’t stop me from coming by just because he asked me to, which says more about me than it does Ryan.
I’m minding my business, questioning all my life choices and nursing my drink in a quiet spot in the kitchen when someone I wish was leaving slides along the counter beside me. My eyes instinctively roll the second Mason Wright’s mouth opens, but that doesn’t stop him from bothering me.
He steals my drink from my grip–an act he knows I detest–and takes a sip. “Looking for your next victim, Roberts?”
God, I hate him. “Isn’t it your bedtime, Wright?”
His eyes roam up and down my body and he smirks, making me internally gag. “Is that an invitation?”
Thankfully, I have no problem exercising self-control around this particular basketball player. “An invitation to fuck off and leave me alone? Yeah.”
He chuckles and the idea of him finding joy in anything irritates me. I don’t know where this kid got all his confidence, but he should bottle it and sell it. I’ve never known anyone, especially a freshman, to be as arrogant as this boy.
Returning my drink to me, he leans in a little closer. “You know playing hard to get turns me on, right?”
“I’m not playing, Mason. You can’t get me.”
“And why’s that?”
“Other than the fact I cannot stand you? You’re a freshman.”
“You’re four months older than me.” His eyebrows pinch together, frustrated, because God forbid a woman not immediately fall to her knees in his presence.
“You’re. A. Freshman,” I repeat.
He’d never believe any woman not being interested in him. Partially because he is very attractive, but mainly because he’s overconfident as hell. He looks more like a stereotypical rockstar than a basketball player. Tall, black hair, piercing blue eyes and pale skin with complicated and detailed tattoos decorating his arms and back. Sighing, I down the rest of my drink. “I don’t like people who are younger than me.”
“Careful, Princess.” He smothers a laugh with his hand and my eyes narrow. “Your daddy issues are showing.”
“The only issue I have is you.” I want to strangle him, but knowing Mason, he’d probably assume it was foreplay. “But speaking of daddies, how is Director Skinner?”
As arrogant as my arch-nemesis is, he does have one weakness: his dad. Nobody knows that his dad is head of athletics at Maple Hills and he wants to keep it that way, which is why he uses his mom’s maiden name. You’d think both having issues with our dads would help us bond, but Mason and I have never gotten along and it isn’t one of those friendships that will develop over time. I can safely say, I will be patiently waiting for his downfall forever.
“Nice to know I’m the topic of yours and Ryan’s pillow talk.” His signature smirk sinks into a scowl instantly and he reaches for the nearest liquor bottle. “I’m moving into Ry’s room; did he tell you? I won’t even change the code so you know how to get in.”
This kid does not know when to quit. “Aren’t you cute. But seriously, Mason, can you give your dad my number? He’s hot—” He’s not. “—and I want to be handed a position on the basketball team.”
“Oh fuck off, Aurora,” he grunts, slamming the bottle back on the counter and stalking off toward the garden.
“Careful, Princess!” I shout after him. “Your daddy issues are showing.”
Arms wrap around my waist from behind and I’m preparing to start throwing punches until I hear a deep voice I’m very familiar with. “I’m not bailing you out of jail if you kill him.”