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M y neck hurts from the whiplash Malik is giving me. I don’t know whether to avoid him altogether or confront him. But I want answers one way or another because I have so many questions.

Why is he so hot and cold with me but steady with everyone else?

Why does he look at me with disgust and then attraction in the blink of an eye?

How does he know my dad?

Why does my dad want me to stay away from him?

Why the hell can’t I stay away from him?

At this point, I think I need a full-blown interrogation to get the answers I need. But I’d be lucky if he answered one question.

After last night at their house, I feel somehow even more conflicted. One second, I woke up, looking up at his wide and concerned eyes. The next, he slammed the door on me after basically telling me to fuck off.

People act the way they do because they have reasons to do so. I just want to know his. Maybe, in the end, he’s just an asshole … or maybe there’s more to the story.

I also need to get control of my life again because since I met with my dad, I feel like I’m under his thumb all over again. But I’ll start with one thing at a time, something that I might be able to make sense of.

Maybe I’ll get some advice from someone who knows Malik better than I do. At least whoever he is now.

When class is over, Blair and I hang back for a moment, both of us far too invested in our schoolwork to not finish taking notes from the board.

I finish before her. “Can I talk to you about something?”

She playfully side-eyes me as she writes. “Is it about a certain someone ?”

I twiddle my thumbs. “Yeah.”

“Of course. I’m always here for you.” She sets her pen down and turns my way, giving me her undivided attention.

From hanging back after class before, we’ve learned there isn’t another class in here for an hour after ours, so we don’t need to rush out.

“I don’t even know where to begin.” I groan, sinking down in my chair.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks hesitantly.

I nod.

“Do you like him? Romantically, I mean.” She says it so casually, as if there aren’t years to unpack before I can give her an answer.

“It’s”—I sigh—“complicated.”

“Of course it’s complicated. It’s Malik.” She grins. “New question. If he kissed you, would you kiss him back?”

My cheeks heat by a thousand degrees as the image of him in my dorm room flashes in my mind. If he had kissed me that night, would I have reciprocated?

I fight the answer, knowing the one I want to say and the one that’s true. As much as I want to deny it, I would have melted into his kiss.

If he hadn’t been such an asshole in high school, I would have drooled over him. I’ve always hated this attraction I’ve had. Like my heart and mind are betraying me by liking him.

“That’s a long pause.” She smiles, reading me like a book. “Your secret is safe with me, as long as you want it to be.”

“Yeah, I mean, I like him. But I also hate myself for it. It’s jarring.” I sit up in my seat, resting my chin against the palm of my hand on the desktop.

“He likes you, you know? And I think he’s in the same boat you are … in denial and regret for the feelings he has. I don’t know what happened between you guys in the past, but I know he cares about you. Even if he’s an ass at showing it,” she says matter-of-factly.

I watch her intently as she continues, “You should have seen him when you fainted. Alora, I’ve never seen that look on his face. He was scared out of his damn mind for you.”

His concerned frown appears in my mind, tugging at my heart.

“Then why did he slam the door in my face?”

She looks away in thought. “I wish I had an answer for you. Malik is an enigma. He’s got a lot of traumas in his past.”

Remaining quiet, I hope she keeps sharing, desperate for any and all information.

“I actually hated Malik at first. I thought he was just this cocky asshole. Which he is —don’t get me wrong.” She chuckles. “But he’s also loyal. To an absolute fault. He’s passionate about the people he cares about.” Her voice softens. “When my ex was threatening me last year, he and Griffin came home with bloody knuckles. That hadn’t been his fight, but he had taken it on because the people he loved were hurting.”

A girl walks into the classroom, grabs something from the second row that she must have forgotten, and turns around before leaving.

Blair reaches out and sets her hand over mine. “I don’t have a handbook to help with Malik. But my advice? Go talk to him. He cares about you, even if it’s in some fucked-up Malik way.”

***

After debating for two hours on whether or not I was going to come here, I open the door and step inside of the arena. I still think this might be my worst idea yet.

Blair said their practice should end around seven p.m.

I check my phone. Six fifty-seven.

My heart is racing … a controlled amount but erratic because of where I am and what I’m doing. I left Sunny back at my dorm because I didn’t want anything to distract me from going through with this. I need to do this on my own.

Waiting in the entryway of the rink, I stand off to the side, time slipping by in slow motion.

A door opens down the hall, and two players walk out—Asher and Dean.

They smile when they spot me, Asher greeting me first.

“Alora, if you wanted to see me, you could’ve just called.”

Always a flirt.

“Hi, Asher.” I smile at him and Dean.

“What are you doing here?” he asks as they approach me.

“Umm … I’m waiting for someone.”

Why on earth did I not even run the possibility through my mind that I would run into other players, like these two, who would certainly ask me questions?

He taps his chin like a cartoon character. “I wonder who that could be. Griffin? Nope . Elias? Nope . Finn? No, it wouldn’t be him. Right, Dean?” he teases.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes.

The door swings open again, and Malik walks out, his aura immediately drawing my attention like a magnet. I’m frozen as he spots me, his searing stare keeping me in place.

No one should look that good after practice. He showered, and his hair is all wet and messy, falling over his forehead. He’s too hot for his own good. I can still hate him and acknowledge that.

He slowly walks down the hallway toward us, his stare never wavering from mine. I’m not even sure he’s blinked.

Asher lightly pats my shoulder. “Later, Alora. Bye, Malik.”

Malik stays quiet as the brothers walk past me and out of the doors to the parking lot.

His voice is even and calm, but firm. “What are you doing here?”

Swallowing my fear and hesitation, I stick out my hand. “I want a truce. An understanding between us.”

He studies me, his eyes scanning my face, as if I’m going to suddenly burst out laughing. Staying quiet, he looks at my hand and then back up.

Hearing laughter and chatter, he grabs my hand and pulls me behind him as he walks down the hallway to my right.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere private,” he bites out.

If this is an olive branch, I’ll cooperate. If this is some sort of game, I’m going to kill him.

He twists the knob on a random door, and it opens.

He pulls me inside, and it swings shut behind us, sealing us in darkness.

He flips the switch, and light floods the room, which I can now tell is some sort of equipment room. Hockey sticks, gloves, skates, blades, tech I do not understand, and equipment I don’t know decorate the room with a desk in the center, the only things on it being a couple of binders.

Keeping his distance from me, he leans against the door, and I take up a nice seat on the desk. Resting my butt against it, I ease myself up and over it, letting my legs dangle over the front of it.

Reaching over, he locks the door so we’re not interrupted. Either that or he’s about to murder me. Honestly, it could go either way.

“As you were saying …” He trails off, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sitting up tall, I clear my throat. “I want a truce between us.”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“Two options. You and I call whatever this is quits—the banter and the fighting—and we become friends.”

He pushes off of the door and takes a step toward me. “And the second option?”

Nervously swallowing, I wring my hands on the edge of the desk. He takes another step toward me.

“We forget about each other, and we stick to our sides of the world. We don’t talk. We don’t exist to one another.”

“Hmm.” He takes another step, leaving only a foot or so between us. “What if I have issues with both options?”

“What are they?” I counter, all the nerves in my body starting to come alive at his nearness.

He drifts forward, stopping between my knees, forcing me to look straight up. “I don’t think forgetting each other is possible.”

My mouth dries. “W-what do you mean?”

“I’ve tried to forget you.” Reaching out, he lifts a strand of my hair and twirls it between his fingers. “Over and over, I have tried. Endlessly. And I’ve failed every single time.”

My brain is empty, like he hit a reset button. I’m speechless.

Inching forward, he pushes my legs further apart as his voice changes, angrier and rough. “Do you know how aggravating it is to me that I can’t get you out of my head?”

“I do.” I sit further forward, our faces only inches apart. “ More than you could ever know.”

“You hate me, Bug?” He smirks. “Talk dirty to me again. I like it.”

Rolling my eyes, I push at his chest, but he catches my wrists, pulling me forward and into him, my legs stretching as wide as they can go.

“Do you know how hard it is to hate the only person you want?” The words hiss through his teeth. “You torture me with every glance and every breath you take.”

Tilting my head further back, I look straight into those haunted purple eyes. “Then why bother with this? Why come into my room and almost kiss me? Why do any of this at all?”

His stare drops to my lips and back up as a war brews behind his eyes, a myriad of emotions contorting his face. “You’re my curse, Alora. I can’t escape you if I try.”

Searching his eyes, I wet my lips. “Your curse?”

Reaching up, he cups my cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip. “My curse. My tragedy. They’re all the same.” He glances down to my now-parted lips. “The worst part is that no matter how much I hate you and how much I wish I could forget all about you, I can’t . That’s my destiny … to live in a never-ending loop of loathing you and wanting you.”

My breaths are fast and ragged. The same as his next words.

“Do you know what it’s like? Wondering how every inch of your body will writhe beneath my touch. How I picture you spread out, helpless and begging me for more?”

His lips brush against mine as his other hand drops to my waist, and I arch my back.

“I want to ruin you. Corrupt you. Make you suffer the same way I do. Make you hate me for the rest of your life. At least if you did, I would be free from the torment of choosing or losing you.”

He steps back and walks away without another word. He unlocks the door and strides through, leaving me breathless and warm as my thoughts spiral out of control.