Page 4

Chapter 4

Fighting

Jamie

I can’t believe our team captain has such a hot sister.

Where has he been hiding her? Luke and I have been roommates for over a year now, and I had never heard he had a sister. A twin, too. I can see the family resemblance in their identical coloring and some vague similarities in their facial structure, but the likeness ends there.

Luke is as tall as I am, and like most hockey players, he has to condition daily. That translates into big, hard muscles.

Bex is a much more delicate thing. She must be at least a foot shorter than her twin brother. And while I shouldn’t ogle my team captain’s sister, I can’t help it.

I’ve been fighting the urge to flirt with her since the second I laid eyes on her.

Not to be arrogant, but I’m popular with women on and off campus. And why shouldn’t I be? I know I’m far from ugly. Hockey keeps me in the best shape anyone could ever ask for, and I take full advantage of all the female attention that brings me. I’m clear and upfront about what I offer. A great time in bed, and all the orgasms a girl could want, but that’s it. I’m not interested in a relationship at this point in my life.

My schedule between my course load and hockey is jam-packed, and doesn’t allow time for much else; I’d rather keep things light and enjoy what Star Cove has to offer than be a shitty boyfriend, who rarely has time to give his girlfriend the attention she deserves.

Connor and Keene, two of my roommates, are living proof that relationships need time and nurturing. They both paid the price of an unforgiving schedule by being cheated on and ultimately dumped by their women. Luke is the only exception in our household, but that’s simply because Shane is on the team and shares the same obligations and responsibilities.

I can’t take my eyes off of Bex while she coos at her new pet. But all I can do is look and imagine those soft lips wrapped around my cock. I can’t act on any of the deliciously dirty things I would do with her in that wedding dress, if I could. But we have a bro-code for a reason. You don’t fuck with a teammate’s sister, no matter what. The only exception to that rule might be true love, but I’m not on the market for that.

“We’re going to have to find you something to eat, too,” Bex says to the fish. “What do goldfish eat? I’ll have to do some research. Maybe you’d like some crumbs for now? I’m going to see if they can give us some bread, or… hey! Get your hands off of me!”

Three guys I don’t know have just approached our table, and one of them pulled Bex against him and he’s groping her.

My blood turns to ice in my veins as my eyes track the hand of the man close over one of Bex’s perfect tits.

“Let go of her, and walk away.” My voice is low and menacing as I meet the guy’s eyes.

The motherfucker and his friends must have a death wish, because rather than heeding my warning, they laugh.

“Nah, I’d rather keep my hands where they are.” He snarls. “This was our table. See, our drinks are still here. We just walked away for a couple of minutes. Taking someone else’s table is very rude. This is still our table, and the way I see it, we’ve got the right to sample the fare here. You might know it already, but your girl has some great tits. Big, soft but perky. I think they aren’t even fake.”

He squeezes Bex’s breast, causing a yelp of pain as she struggles to get free from the guy’s hold.

I clench my fists. The guy and his friends are tall and beefy. They look like bodybuilders. There’s three of them and two of us, but I’m willing to bet that Connor and I can take them. Usually guys like them are strong but slow, and speed is our first commandment on the ice. We’re pretty good off the ice too.

Connor gives me a subtle nod as our eyes meet over the asshole’s shoulder.

“Let her go, if you don’t want to spend the rest of your night looking for your teeth on the boardwalk.”

That’s my last warning, but the guy decides to ignore it and up the ante.

“I don’t think so. Guys, take care of these two pretty boys,” he laughs. “I’m gonna take this pretty piece of meat to the bathroom and warm her up for you.” His hips move suggestively, grinding against Bex’s ass.

I know I don’t have exactly the best reputation on campus. I know my name is written on some of the campus’s gossip sites in unflattering terms. People can say whatever the fuck they want about me. I never promise what I don’t intend to deliver, and most of all, I respect the word “no.”

Consent is non negotiable for me. The second a woman says no, I walk away, no questions asked.

Watching someone treat and call a woman a piece of meat makes me fucking furious.

I move so fast that one of the two guys behind the one who’s manhandling Bex doesn’t even know what hit him.

My fingers tangle at the base of his greasy ponytail and I shove his head down against the table he and his friends claim they have a right to.

The noise of his nose breaking against the wood is more satisfying than smashing an opponent against the boards during a game.

I pull his head up for a second, just to check my handiwork. Blood is flowing from his nose, but I don’t feel the message is sufficiently clear. I lower his head again with all my force. I hope he gets a few wooden splinters too, fucker.

While I’m taking care of this guy, I’m confident that Connor is dealing with his friend.

We’ve been playing hockey together for three years, and I know he always has my back.

I let go of the greasy ponytail, leaving the man to crumble on the ground in a bloody, whimpering heap. He’s alive. That’s a lot more than he deserves.

As I predicted, Connor must have hit the second guy in the face, because the second I turn, I see the asshole holding his nose with his cupped hands. Blood is trickling through his knuckles.

The piece of shit is so focused on the pain in his face that he leaves himself completely exposed to Connor’s right hook right in the softest part of his stomach.

With two of our problems dealt with, we turn to the motherfucker who’s still holding Bex against his chest.

The bastard knows he should have kept his grubby hands to himself. He’s pale as a sheet and the second my eyes land on his, he takes a step back, letting go of Bex.

She runs into my waiting arms and maybe I should focus on comforting her. There are tears in her eyes and she’s visibly shaking.

“You’re safe, baby.” I say, stepping between her and her assailant.

Fury courses through me, and I charge the scumbag. He isn’t getting away in one piece after what he did.

Connor is right behind him and puts him in a chokehold.

The first hit to his jaw makes blood fly out of his mouth, mixed with saliva.

I use his head like a punching bag, hitting twice in quick succession until his head slumps and Connor drops him.

The thud he makes when he hits the boardwalk should be satisfying, but I’m not done with him.

I drop on top of him, straddling his torso and slapping his face to bring him back to consciousness.

“Welcome back, motherfucker.” I grin. “Do you think I’m gonna kick your ass while you’re down?”

He doesn’t say anything. He’s too busy crying and shaking his head. I’m not sure if that’s an answer to my question, or a plea to let him go.

“Come here, Connor,” I call, getting back onto my feet. “Help me lift this sack of shit.”

My teammate does as I ask, after making sure that Bex is sitting down, safely away from the fight.

“Now,” I bite out, unable to hide the disgust on my face. “Stand up like a fucking man. I’m not done with you until I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.”

The guy keeps crying and swaying, unsteady on his feet.

“Please, no,” He finally manages to beg.

I laugh. “Ah, here we go. Nice begging, you spineless coward. Why should I let you go, huh? Did you let Bex go when she said no? Did you walk away when you thought you had more manpower and could win this fight?”

“Fuck you!” he spits, and I plunge my fist into his face again.

He spins on his feet and Connor sinks in another punch.

The fucker lands on the ground again, curling up in the fetal position and crying louder this time.

I’m about to grab him again, but Talia’s voice cuts through my fury-induced fog.

“That’s enough, Jamie.” She says. “I just called the sheriff. I think it’s better if you guys aren’t here when the cops arrive.”

Right. I was so furious, I didn’t even think that we were out in the open. If I get arrested for fighting, jail is the least of my worries. Being locked up would actually keep me safe from Coach Harrison’s wrath.

“It’s fine.” I rub my split knuckle with my other hand. It’s throbbing and bleeding. “I have no problem to talk to the sheriff. It was three against two and we were just protecting our friend.”

Joe, the owner, comes to stand next to Talia. “Just go. I’ll talk to Sheriff Pullin. I saw everything.”

I can’t believe Joe is letting us go scot free. “Are you sure? I don’t mind speaking to the cops.”

Joe sighs. “Look, if he wants to talk to you, he knows where to find you. The entire town knows our hockey stars. You’re lucky those three fuckers you just dealt with had been causing issues for weeks. I’m grateful you took out the trash. Next time, though, stop when the other guy is down, got it?”

“Got it.” I nod.

“Yeah.” Joe’s eyes meet mine. “Just go now.”

I turn to look at Bex, who in the meantime is nestled in her brother’s arms.

“You ok?” When I step closer, she recoils, as if she were scared of me.

What the fuck?

“Bex—” I don’t understand why she’s scared of me. I would never hit a woman.

Luke shakes his head, mouthing “not now.”

Connor and I follow Luke and Shane, who keep Bex between them. There’s an uneasy feeling in my chest at the idea that Luke’s sister is scared of me now.

“I don’t understand what just happened.” I mutter, noticing that Connor is carrying Lady Marmalade’s glass pitcher.

Connor’s brow is lowered into a frown. “Earlier, she was fidgeting with her dress. I saw some pretty nasty bruises on her neck. I think she must have had her reasons not to get married.”

We—I—scared her. Connor doesn’t say it out loud, but it’s more than clear that he thinks Bex is scared of me now. Of us, maybe.

I hate that thought, but maybe it’s for the best. She’s my teammate’s sister, anyway. Getting in her pants isn’t a better idea now than it was a couple of hours ago.

Bex

Light is filtering through the curtains, and I press my eyes closed to hang on to the last remnants of precious sleep.

But I’ve always been a light sleeper, and I know once I start waking up, it’s very unlikely that I’ll be able to slip back into blissful oblivion.

When the unfamiliar room comes into focus, I blink, confused. Where am I?

This isn’t my room, nor the small apartment on the Bridgeport campus Dad had arranged for me and Kurt.

The thought that this morning I should have woken up next to my new husband, causes a shiver to work its way down my spine.

I never want to see Kurt again, if I can help it.

Just the thought of him, of his hands around my throat, pressing my windpipe, causes a shiver of fear and disgust.

I thought he was going to kill me.

That thought brings up another memory. The way Jamie and Connor beat up those guys who grabbed me last night.

On a rational level, I know they reacted that way to protect me. I know I should thank them.

But the way they kept beating on those men, even after they were clearly not in a position to cause any more harm, scared the shit out of me.

That unbridled, explosive violence is something that destroys everything in its wake if left out of control.

It’s a shame, because I liked Jamie and Connor. They’re both drop dead gorgeous and I think they liked me too.

But one minute we were flirting and the next…

I can’t deal with that kind of violence. Besides, I don’t even know how long I’m gonna be here in Star Cove.

Luke stayed with Shane at the Gamma house last night, giving me his room. But I doubt I can stay here long. These are accommodations reserved for student athletes and I don’t even go to school here.

Visiting for a couple of nights is one thing, but if Luke got caught letting me stay here, he could get expelled.

There’s also the fact that I don’t deserve my brother’s help after the way I cut him out of my life.

Just because our father said so. I roll on my side, taking a deep breath. I have a lot of amends to make with my brother and my whole life to figure out. When I left Bridgeport yesterday, I left everything behind. Pure Shine owns everything. All my monetized social media accounts with millions of followers, every endorsement and sponsorship deal, were made with my father’s talent agency as the main beneficiary. Without him, I’m broke and I’m nobody.

Movement catches my eye, and for a second I feel disoriented. What’s that on the nightstand?

Then some of yesterday’s events come back to me. Before everything ended in that scary fight, I was riding a real high. I had won that dart game, and my prize is looking at me. Lady Marmalade is swimming in the glass pitcher on my nightstand. That’s her temporary home.

I look at the small goldfish, and a pang of anxiety weighs on me. I don’t even know where I’m gonna sleep tonight. How can I take care of a pet? Even though it’s just a goldfish, this little creature now depends on me for her very survival.

“Don’t worry, Lady M,” I say, getting out of bed. “We’ll find a solution. One way or another, we’ll survive. And I promise I’ve got you, girl.”

After using the bathroom, where I find some concealer to help me hide my bruises — thank goodness for a twin brother who cares about looking hot—I take the glass pitcher with me into the open space living room and kitchen.

Last night, I borrowed a Star Cove Knights t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts from Luke’s dresser. The only thing I could change into is what’s left of my wedding dress, but I can’t go around campus and town dressed like a cake topping on a Saturday morning. I’ll have to find some clothes asap, but I have no money. I hate the idea of asking Luke for even more help.

“Hmm,” I muse, opening and closing the fridge and a couple of cabinets. “I don’t know where everything is. And I don’t want to wake everyone by making too much noise. Let’s just find you a slice of bread, Lady M. And maybe some caffeine for me.”

In the end, I find a loaf of white bread and steal a slice. There’s a coffee maker on the counter, one of those fancy pod systems. I’ve never been a huge coffee drinker and have no idea where to find the coffee pods, so I settle for a cold Diet Coke instead.

There’s a table at one end of the kitchen, but I spot a small round table outside on the condo’s patio.

Some fresh air will help me think about what’s next. I take Lady M and set her down on the table, sprinkling a couple of crumbs from the bread I found her.

My stomach growls, and I take a nibble from the corner of the slice of bread. “I hope you don’t mind sharing, girl.” I tell the fish.

She’s too busy swimming to the surface to get the tiny crumbs of bread to care about answering my question. There’s no way she could eat a ton of the bread, anyway. She’s only a tiny creature, and I don’t want to over feed her.

Empty your mind from all the static noise. Purge your inner self from all the toxins that come from the outside world and turn in on yourself. Feel your inner light, connect with it, and let it guide your next steps. The answer to every question is right there, inside your inner being. All you have to do is to reach deep enough to find it.

“Meow, meow.”

I open my eyes, shaking my head to banish my father’s voice from the guided meditation we used to have to do at the beginning and at the end of every day.

A small black cat is on the table, its tail swishing lazily from side to side. The feline’s green eyes assess me for a second. I must be deemed unworthy of attention, because the cat’s attention is now focused on the glass pitcher in front of me.

“Meow.” It circles the glass, throwing a suspicious look at the goldfish inside it. “Meow.”

I grab the pitcher just in time when the cat swats at it with its paw.

“Hey!” I scold. “Leave Lady M alone!”

If a look could kill, I’d be dead, incinerated on the spot. The cat’s intense green eyes are full of outrage as it glares at me, right before curling its back and hissing in a clear sign of displeasure and aggression.

The next “meow” coming out of the black cat isn’t the lazy, exploratory noise of a few moments ago. It’s a legit war cry.

I scramble out of my chair as fast as I can, right in the nick of time.

The cat jumps, claws out, and lands on the chair where my ass was just a second ago.

“Hey!” I squeak.

I’m not even sure if I’m screaming at the cat, or if it’s the surprise of the impact against the wall.

“Fuck. Watch where you’re going.” A deep voice rumbles from right behind me, as big, warm hands grab my hips to steady me.

It wasn’t a wall. I crashed against someone.

“Meow!”

But my immediate worry isn’t whoever is behind me. The cat hisses again, ready to pounce and attack me.

I nudge the foot of the wooden chair in the attempt to push it as far from me and Lady M as possible. That displeases the feline who screams murder, its body poised to attack.

“What are you doing to my cat?” The man behind me asks, his tone full of annoyance and accusation.

I turn around to glare at the stranger and… holy fucking shit.

Whoever created the expression “tall, dark and handsome” must have had this guy in mind.

Tall, probably over six three, since he’s taller than Luke, the guy’s broad shoulders impede my retreat into the house. Dark hair in a high and tight frame a stunning face, all high cheekbones, soft lips and square jaw.

A pair of ice-blue eyes glare at me as our chests are smashed against each other, due to the way he’s standing on the threshold. Shirtless, if that didn’t add insult to injury.

My eyes take quick stock of his chiseled chest and washboard abs. He must have an eight pack at the very least, not that I’m counting.

Regardless, he’s the only obstacle between me and safety from the possessed beast that’s still hissing on the chair behind me.

“What am I doing to your cat?” I gawk. “I’m trying to save myself and my goldfish from that ruthless predator. It tried to knock over Lady Marmalade’s glass pitcher, and when I told it to stop, it attacked me. And I don't know what goldfish eat, I just got her. I'm a little preoccupied trying to save myself and my goldfish from that ruthless predator.”

The corner of his lips lifts in what I think might be the hint of a smile. I can’t be so sure, because it lasts for a split second, before those blue eyes turn into cold slabs of ice. “She’s a hunter. And you should keep your fish somewhere safer than a glass pitcher.”

There’s something weird about arguing with someone you’re pressed against; especially when he’s a hot stranger.

Nevertheless, I object. “The pitcher is only temporary. I’ve just got Lady Marmalade. She was a prize at the county fair.”

Keene

I have no idea who’s the hot stranger I found on the deck yelling at my cat. Probably one of Jamie’s hookups who hasn’t gotten the hint that once my teammate gets his, her services are no longer required.

Jamie has great taste, though, for as much as I hate to admit it.

The woman is gorgeous, no more than just gorgeous. She’s exquisite.

Her face is completely bare, not one stitch of makeup in sight, and yet, she’s stunning.

Tousled blonde hair that comes down her back in waves that look like they’d feel like strands of silk between my fingers; huge green eyes shadowed by long dark lashes; her nose is a gentle slope that leads to pink, heart-shaped lips.

She’s a little shorter than average, petite, but has some curves in all the right places.

My cock twitches at the feeling of her soft chest smashed against mine. I keep my hands on her hips, even though she’s not in danger of losing her balance anymore, thanks to my body.

She just said that she won the goldfish at the county fair. That only confirms my hunch that she must have come home with Jamie.

It’s the only realistic option, since Luke bats for the other team, and Connor has been living like a monk for the past few weeks.

At first, he followed Jamie’s lead and fucked anything with a pussy and a pulse. Eventually, he got tired of rebounding after his ex cheated on him.

That’s what women do without fail. They make you believe they love you; they promise you forever and then hop on the next available dick while you’re deployed.

I have to remind myself that women are the devil. Every single one of them, no matter how angelic she might look in a Cove Knights t-shirt that skims the tops of her thighs.

“I wish they didn’t give living creatures as prizes,” I bite out. “It isn’t fair to entrust a life on someone most probably too drunk to keep them safe.”

The woman reacts with an outraged squeal. “That was the best I could do at the moment. I’m gonna get her a proper fish bowl today. If your psycho cat doesn’t kill it first.”

As if feeling called out, the cat in question decides it’s time for another offensive.

“Hey!” the woman screams as claws hit her back, pushing her further into my chest.

“Poonani, stop!” I yell, as water from the glass pitcher sloshes out and hits my bare skin.

“Meeeooowwww!” Poonani bellows, sinking her claws deeper into the woman.

That has the effect of pushing her closer to my chest.

The girl is screaming as my cat doesn’t look intentioned to let go any time soon.

“Quit being so dramatic.” I roll my eyes, stepping back into the kitchen, and turning around to ease Poonani off the stranger’s back. “It’s just a little scratch. Your t-shirt is probably a lot worse off than you.”

“That’s easy to say,” the girl screams. “You didn’t just get clawed by that wild beast.”

She makes the huge mistake of pointing a French tipped finger at us, and Poonani takes it as a hostile act, swatting at the offending finger with her claws.

“Oh my God!” the woman screams. “Stop that possessed animal right now.”

I pet her behind the ears, unable to stop myself from chuckling. “Poonani.”

“What did you just call me?” our pretty stranger seethes. Her eyes narrowed furiously in a glare that would be scary if I didn’t have over one foot and at least one hundred pounds on her.

I can’t help but grin at how offended she looks. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her.” I pet my cat again, and she purrs loudly against my hand.

The stranger’s pretty lips open in a little surprised o. “What kind of psycho names his cat Poonani?”

Her comment rubs me the wrong way. “The type who knows that women might be pretty, but they’re disloyal, dangerous creatures. Poonani is the only pussy I can trust.”

That little “o” widens at my words, and there’s one thing I would like to fill that mouth with. Instead, I have to deal with her offended reaction.

“That’s the most disgusting, most chauvinistic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Whatever. Unfortunately, I speak from experience. “The truth hurts, huh?” I smirk.

“You’re such an asshole!” She bites out.

Poonani really doesn’t care for her tone, and she hisses in warning. “If I were you,” I challenge her. “I’d watch my mouth. Or next time, I might let Poonani have her way with you and your fish.”

She clutches the pitcher closer to her chest. “Don’t worry, Lady Marmalade, I’m not gonna let this Neanderthal and his psycho cat hurt you. Don’t you have something better to do than scare my poor goldfish?” She asks with a scathing glare.

Goddamn, this girl has some fire underneath that sweet girl next door's exterior.

If there’s one thing I’m good at, however, is to have the last word. “Don’t you have a walk of shame to do, instead of prancing around my house half-naked?”

My words don’t have the intended effect, though. At least, not completely.

“You’re so fucking rude. And what are you talking about? Why would I do a walk of shame?”

I bark out a laugh. “I assume you came home with Connor or Jamie. Probably Jamie. It’s morning, so you’ve served your purpose. Let me save you from some guaranteed embarrassment. Neither of them buy breakfast for random hookups or puck bunnies.”

Redness rises to her face, but she isn’t ashamed. She’s furious. “A puck bunny? I’m not a puck bunny, and it’s none of your fucking business, but I didn’t hookup with anyone.”

She’s really cute when she’s angry, and I’m enjoying that she has a mouth on her.

This is more fun than I’ve had with a woman in months, maybe even years. “If you aren’t a puck bunny, what are you doing here?”

She sets her pitcher on the kitchen table, crossing her arms over her chest. That does nothing but highlight her tits. They’re even bigger than I thought, since her t-shirt is several sizes too big for her.

“My eyes are up here, perv,” she scolds me, noticing that my attention has drifted south. “I’m here to visit my brother. Who the fuck are you?”

“I live here,” I say, gloating at the fact that this is my place, and whoever she’s visiting, she’s still an intruder. “Your brother, you say? None of my roommates have ever talked about a sister. I’m pretty sure Jamie has two brothers, and Connor is an only child.”

She looks at me as if I were a piece of hairy gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “I’m Luke’s sister.”

Hmm. Now that she mentions it, I can see some vague resemblance between this woman and my team captain. “And do you have a name, Luke’s sister?”

“My friends call me Bex, but you can call me Rebecca.”

I stifle a laugh at the bitchiness in her tone and introduce myself. “Keene McKendrick.” I balance Poonani on one arm to extend the other in Bex’s direction, offering my hand to shake.

Bex seems to accept my temporary truce offer, but the second our palms come into contact, Poonani starts hissing again.

“What the fuck is wrong with your cat?” Bex yelps. “Keep that beast under control.”

“Poonani hates all women.” Luke’s voice comes from behind me. “It’s uncanny. And she barely tolerates me and the others. The only person she loves is Keene.”