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It’s not that I think I would lose because let’s be honest, I’m going to fucking win. She thinks she can beat me on the ice? I highly doubt any of her brothers would beat me at a one-on-one.

I wish I put the puzzle pieces together earlier that she’s Ryan’s little sister. It makes me question why he would let her date a guy like Pearson, not that I’m the better choice, but he’s a fuckboy too. He only committed to her for those few months because well… look at her.

Cute.

Hot.

Funny.

Sexy.

Different.

Her abs are prominent when she laughs. She lights up a room wherever she goes. And she doesn’t know her beauty – it’s not her weapon. The more I’m around her, the more I think about grabbing her neck and kissing her again. I want to drive myself deep into her perfect fucking body. And it makes me fucking smile to know she never fucked Matt. Good for him. Not that I want to do that with her, really. I’m okay with that boundary. Because she didn’t sleep with her boyfriend, I can’t expect her to ever sleep with me. Kissing me that night was out of pure vengeance for Matt, so I’ll let that fucking slide. I will not hold that against her. However, I would hold other things against her if she begged me to.

This is why I need her to move in with me.

She’s good for me.

I won’t cross any line with her because I’m no good for her.

We’re sitting in silence as we drive to her place. I can tell she’s had too much to drink, so I say, “We can reschedule if – ”

“Just drive the car, Grey,” she seethes. “You are not winning.”

When we get to her place, I follow her into her house. “Are you following me into my room?” she sasses as she takes the first step of the stairs.

“I am.”

She hesitates for a moment and then we proceed up the steps.

We’re inside her bedroom. The ice skates are on the wall for grabbing. When I notice them, I grab them off the wall.

“These are cute,” I say, checking out the girly details of these vintage skates.

She glances over at them, her eyes lighting up. “My mom gave them to me. She said they were her lucky skates. The first time she wore them, she met my dad.”

“Vintage with a story,” I say, smelling them.

“What the hell are you doing?” she laughs, yanking them out of my hands.

“Just making sure I’m not about to live with someone who doesn’t shower.”

Her eyes are big as she stares at me. “Excuse me, I would be staying in your bed. Do you shower?”

I chuckle, knowing I deserve that one.

“I have to wash your sheets,” she says, putting the skates on her bed and searching her closet for something. “ If I’m staying there.”

“You are,” I state.

“Oh my god, I can’t begin to imagine who you bring to your bed. I am going to win tonight, and you’ll be abstinent for a month.”

“I’ll be abstinent either way,” I say, hinting that I won’t lay a finger on her. Not even a single touch.

She shuffles through her closet, finally finding what she’s looking for. And then she sprays herself with perfume. Every bit of me lights up at the exotic fruit scent in the air.

She smiles. “You will be, won’t you? Unless you sleep with me.”

I shake my head.

“Which is not happening,” she states. “I’m making that clear right now.”

“Not like I want to, bunny,” I grin at her, feeding her back the bullshit she’s feeding me.

“Perfect.” She’s offended, but it’s okay. I haven’t had a female relationship before her. She’s got herself wrapped in with me, and yet, she has no idea what I’m about. I have no mom, barely a dad, a fucked up blackmail deal to get me into this college, and yet, I’m here with Madison Wilder, calling her bunny. She has no clue that I don’t fucking talk to women. They use me for everything that I am. I’m the best combination for a fuckboy. A one-night stand and that is all.

“Perfect,” I shoot back.

“Step out so I can get dressed.”

I do as she asks without hesitation. I shut her bedroom door, waiting for her like a fucking idiot does for his girlfriend right outside in the hallway.

She opens the door shortly after in new clothes and says, “Ready to lose?”

I smirk. “Let’s go.”

As we’re getting into my truck, Maddie asks, “So, why do you have a key to the auditorium?”

She takes every piece of hair into her hands, pulling it into a high ponytail.

“Insomniac,” I mention, trying hard not to stare. She’s beautiful with her hair down but seeing it in a ponytail causes my fingers to flinch. Her neck is exposed, begging for my hand again. I would wrap my wrist around her ponytail if I could, but I’m a man with self-control. “I go at midnight most nights to practice.”

“You do?”

I nod, driving off.

“Maybe on the nights I can’t sleep, I’ll join you.”

My eyes stay on the road as I take a second to imagine that scenario. Why would she want to join me if nobody’s going to be around? We’re in a pretend relationship to fool others, not to hang out in private.

“I don’t know,” I admit. Undivided, one-on-one time more than once isn’t necessary.

She scoffs, almost laughing. “Why not? You need your private time, Cress?” She laughs. “Oh my god. You do? Do you take your hookups there?”

Wow, all of this talk makes me realize that she thinks so highly of me. Clearly, I am an object in her eyes. I need to change that.

She says, “Well, I uninvite myself.”

“We’ll just see how good you are at hockey first.”

She scoffs.

The locker room is dark and quiet. Madison has had some to drink, so she’s holding onto my arm like a child. All the touching and asking questions are getting on my nerves. This is why I don’t do relationships. Don’t get me wrong, I can handle being around Maddie. But not when she’s drunk. This version of her is annoying as hell. I much rather be around her when she’s sober. I hope she doesn’t pull some bullshit on the ice tonight. I won’t be kissing her back this time.

“It’s weird being in here at night alone,” she says as I finally unlock my locker. She sits on the bench next to me and pulls on her skates. I tie up mine.

“What do you think about period blood?” she asks.

I give her a questionable glance as I start on the other foot.

She giggles. “Michelle was dancing with that guy, and her blood stained through.”

I shrug, not picturing it because I don’t give a shit. “Every female bleeds once a month. Consider Matt lucky.”

She tilts her head in deep thought as I stand to grab the equipment we need.

“Are you always like this?” she asks.

“What?” I say, grabbing the hockey sticks.

“Straight forward. Hard to talk to. Impossible .”

I glare at her.

She says, “It’s your face. It’s like you want me to shut up.”

“Maybe if you weren’t wasted right now,” I mutter.

She grabs the hockey stick from me and says, “Like you didn’t have anything to drink.” She glances down at my skates. “You look cute in your skates, Cress.”

I huff. “Do you even know how to play hockey?” I ask that to offend her. I can only assume she was in the rink with her brothers growing up. Her father is a fucking legend. I could tell by tonight that she and Ryan are close. I’ve seen him skate, beyond his goaltender duties, and he’s fast on the ice.

“Do I know how to play hockey?” she scoffs. “I basically invented hockey.”

She sounds like an old man gloating. I roll my eyes unintentionally.

“What?” she questions. “You don’t believe me?”

I flick my brow up.

“You think I’m just one of those puck bunnies that decided to say let’s play hockey because I’m dating a hockey player?” she asks.

I shrug, trying to get on her nerves. I’m riling her up before our game. I need her to get rowdy, down, and dirty. She touches me with the hockey stick as we walk to the ice rink.

“If I dated Foster, I wouldn’t say let’s play football because he plays football. I can’t throw a ball to save my life. But I grew up on the ice, so I can talk the talk and walk the walk, Greyson.”

She said my name to intentionally test me. I don’t take the bait, keeping my gaze ahead of us.

“I’m ready to see how good of a puck your hockey stick is.” When I stare at her, she laughs her head off. She touches my arm. “Come on, Grey. This is supposed to be fun.”

She glides onto the ice, and I’ve never seen anyone so natural. It’s like she’s fucking floating on a cloud. What the hell? She takes her side of the rink and slaps the hockey stick on the ice.

“Ready to rock and roll?” she questions.

I slide the puck to her, letting her start the game.

“Oh, please.” She whips it back to me. My instant reflex catches the puck. Hell, she’s fast. “Don’t think I need the upper hand because I’m a girl.”

“We’re not wearing gear,” I remind her.

She smirks. “I know.”

I hit the puck, attempting to meet it on the other side of her. Fuck, she’s fast. Now, she has it. I try to block her but she gets through me. Shit, I need to step up my game. I pick up the pace, chasing after her. But she’s too fucking fast. I underestimated the hell out of drunk Maddie.

“SCORE!” she shouts, holding the hockey stick up. “Suck on that!” Is she using the hockey stick as a dick? Meanwhile, I’m retrieving the puck to ignore the show she’s putting on. Hell, I don’t want the girl to have a dick or even a pretend one.

I shake my head. “Am I really winning if I beat a drunk girl?”

“Greyson can’t get his dick sat on for one whole month,” she sings.

I take the puck from the net and snicker. Jesus Christ. Is she sober now? I lock eyes with her. Nope.

“It’s funny that you think I can’t sleep with anyone for a month. Who do you think I am?”

“A fuckboy,” she shouts. “God, you are such a man whore.”

I hold the puck in place as I glare at her. “Yeah, well, those are terms for a reason.”

She stands still as I race with the puck into the net. But she’s not chasing after me.

“What?” I say, scoring the next point.

“Are we all warmed up? Ready to treat it like a real game?”

“I’m treating it like a real one-v-one.”

She presses her lips together, skating to me. “No, you didn’t take me seriously when I scored. I probably blew your mind there, didn’t I? So, I stood there while you scored. The real game starts now.”

She steals the puck from me and races across the rink. I chase after her, otherwise, I can’t keep up. What the fuck is this? She holds the puck with ease, racing with it. I don’t want her to get hurt, but I need to let her know that I’m not fucking around either.

I catch up and hit her stick just enough for the puck to go flying. We both race for it. She’s fucking faster than me. She’s like a goddamn Olympian. The puck flies into her net as she shouts with glee.

I take the puck and don’t waste a moment as I race to my net. She’s far too close to me, so I hit the puck further ahead than I should. She’s the one to catch it. I have to fucking skate harder. Am I giving her too much leeway?

So, that’s what I do. Skate harder. I steal the puck from her and make the shot from the centerline. I make it right into the net. I nod. That’s right.

Maddie glares at me as she retrieves the puck.

“Whoever makes five points first.”

“Three,” she says, gliding past me with the puck.

“Okay. Three,” I say, chasing after her. I steal the puck from her. It’s a challenge at first, but I slam it to the right and finally take control. I take a risk by hitting it across the rink. It’s something I used to do as a kid. I make it into the goal again, and I’m in relief.

“That’s two,” she scoffs, racing to the net. “I’m going too soft on you.”

I smile because she’s actually not. She’s a lot better than I thought she would be, and I can’t imagine how good she is when she hasn’t had any to drink. “I’m not going to let you win, bunny. You’re moving in with me.”

Her skates stop in front of me. Her blue eyes pierce into mine. “Why?”

I smirk. “Aren’t you trying to get revenge on your boyfriend?”

“Pretty sure he let me go, and I’m only keeping you around just in case.”

I smile at her. She stares blankly at me. I mutter, “Nobody knows we’re hanging out right now. Are you sure you’re not keeping me around for something else?”

She touches my cheek, but I’m immune to anyone’s touch. Then she bops my nose and skates away. Maddie grabs the puck from the net and then smiles at me.

“I can’t let you score again,” she stammers, hitting the puck across the rink. She misses the net, so I skate to it, glad to have the advantage. I waste no time, meeting her at the centerline.

“I’m going to win!” She actually steals the puck from me and skates towards her goal. I’m quick enough to attempt to steal it. She hits the puck hard, but I interfere, and it goes flying in another direction.

She hits my ass with the hockey stick. I skate, ignoring her as I take the puck and shoot it across the rink. Fuck, I miss the net. She laughs as we race for the puck. I reach it first, but instead of fighting me for the puck, she hugs me from behind. We’re skating forward until we hit the wall. She’s holding on tight.

If I didn’t know any better, I would think that she’s flirting with me. But you haven’t seen her face when she looks at Matt. She will never look at me like that. But I’m going to have this girl wrapped around my fucking finger when I win this little game we’re playing. Then I’ll have the pleasure of torturing Matt with his girl in my bed. Not once, not twice, but for an entire month.