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Lawson

I’d fucked up a lot in my life.

Truly. My list of fuck ups was a mile long.

I’d fucked up when I hadn’t defended Asher, I’d fucked up when I had flirted with Aviva, and that was just the start of it. The team, and the Core Four—now Core Five, including Asher—had grudgingly forgiven me and accepted me into the fold.

But none of it came close to my hugest fuck up.

When I’d fucked up with her.

As my team celebrated the win, taking turns skating around the rink with the Cup in our raised hands, my eyes caught on someone in the back of the stadium.

Someone I thought I’d seen a couple months ago when I’d been watching Tovah, someone I’d chased after, only to come to the conclusion I was seeing things.

She couldn’t be here. She was supposed to be at Oxford.

But my eyes weren’t lying to me. Because in the stands sat a beautiful girl with big blue eyes and a blonde pixie cut, and even though she looked older and her hair was different, I’d recognize that smile anywhere…

…as she laughed at something the bastard next to her was saying.

Asshole. I didn’t even know him, and I had no right to, but I still was going to rip him away from her.

Because he was talking to the only girl I’d ever loved, and even though I’d fucked up expeditiously, even though she’d told me she never, ever wanted to see me again, she was here, at my game.

At my university.

Which meant she was still mine. That she’d always been and would only ever be mine.

All I had to do was set the right kind of trap.

As I watched Emma talk to the soon-to-be-dead idiot next to her, I smiled a grin, scary and wolf-like.

“Game on,” I murmured.

Game the fuck on.

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