Page 2

Chapter two

~ DAMIEN~

I’m fucked.

The second she said it, I knew. I knew I was screwed. “I can handle you, no problem.”

Avery trying to flirt? It was the most awkward, cringe-inducing attempt at confidence I’ve ever seen. But the thing is, it worked. Not in the way she wanted it to, most probably. But that was all I needed to feel the first crack in my self-control I’ve been working on for so long.

Because it wasn’t about the words, it was the way her face flushed the second they left her mouth. The way she panicked, instantly regretting it. The way she couldn’t even look at me after it. That innocent little act… yeah, that fucking got to me. I researched her college and the type of people who attend it. All the frat houses I hope she’s never been to, all the sororities I hope haven’t warped her mind. She’s spent too much time around her college friends—good thing she’s back where she belongs.

I’m still thinking about it. About her. For those two years she’s been away, I’ve been dreading this exact moment. I’ve dreaded and anticipated seeing her again. I thought—no, I feared that maybe college would have turned her into someone else. Someone I wouldn’t recognize. But there she was, standing at that airport with her auburn hair, freckles, and those wide, nervous green eyes. Same Avery. Same girl who’s always made it hard for me to keep my shit together. Same girl who made my heart stop the moment I laid eyes on her. And It's been that way since she moved in with her brother at nineteen.

Rowan’s little sister. And that’s always been the fucking problem.

It’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity. I’ve had plenty of opportunities over the years to try and scratch that itch. The problem is that it’s not even an itch at this point—it’s a need. But I’ve always held back because of Rowan. He’s the definition of overprotective, and the last thing I need is for my best friend to break my jaw. But now that she’s back for the whole summer and possibly more, living next door… it’s gonna take more than my self-control and the very real possibility of Rowan breaking my face to keep me away from her.

Half an hour later, I pull into the rink’s parking lot, cutting the engine. Practice is about to start, but I’m not exactly in a rush. I know Rowan isn’t going to be here for once. He has a meeting with our manager to discuss the promo for the big game with the LA Blades. He rarely misses practice, so today should be a bit chaotic unless Ares feels like talking and decides to put everyone in line. Good thing he’s rarely in the mood for that. Everyone already fears him as is. The last time I saw him angry at practice, we lost a teammate. Brody Levis. He’s not dead. Promise. He just broke down in tears in front of Ares, telling him how he had no idea how the blade of his skate ended up lodged into my helmet, and Ares threw him off of the team. I haven’t heard anything about Brody Levis since. That was over eight years ago, back when we weren’t as big, yet people still talk about it. I still think about it.

Stepping out, I pull my bag from the back and head inside. The cold air hits me like a punch, and I inhale deeply, letting it clear my head.

I need to stop thinking about her. But hell, it’s not that easy.

Lexi’s already here, giggling with a few other influencers I recognize at the side of the rink. She never skips a chance to push her tits into our faces with her blonde hair in a perfect ponytail and tight leggings hugging every curve. She’s fun; we’ve been having a good time, no strings. Just how I like it.

But right now? I’m not feeling it.

“Hey, stranger.” She looks up, flashing a perfect, pearly smile.

“Hey.” I smirk back out of habit.

She walks over, swaying her hips.

“You’ve been busy,” she purrs, brushing a hand down my arm. “You told me not to call you this week. I was a good girl and kept my promise, but I miss you.” She pouts, wrapping both arms around my neck. “When are we gonna hang out again?”

I glance around, making sure no one’s listening, then shrug. “Who knows.”

Her smile falters, just a flicker, but it’s there. “How about tonight?”

I grab her hands and gently pry them away from myself.

“Can’t,” I try to keep it casual, but I can see it—the shift in her eyes. She didn’t like hearing that. “I told you, I’m not really looking for anything.”

Lexi narrows her eyes, but the smile stays in place. “You don’t have to be looking for anything. We’re just having fun, right?”

Fun. Yeah, that’s what it was supposed to be.

I give her an apologetic look. “Yeah, but I think I’m done with that.”

“You’re not serious.” She gives me a forced smile, but I already hear some of the boys calling out my name. Not that I’m in the mood to elaborate anyway.

“Practice is about to start,” I sigh, looking around. “Enjoy.”

Lexi stares at me for a beat longer, then lets out a huff. “I’ll call you!” she calls out after me in her usual fake, cheery tone before she turns on her heel and hops back to her friends.

I watch her go, feeling that familiar tug of annoyance. Girls like Lexi are fun up until a certain point. Or up until you see the girl you’ve been thinking about for two years again, and the familiar scent of the perfume she’s been wearing for years hits you. Angel’s Share. I know it because I was the one who told Rowan to get it for her all those years ago. She hasn’t changed it since.

Turning away, I head to the locker room to gear up. I can already hear the guys messing around on the ice.

As I walk back out, I see Ares at his usual spot, quiet and brooding. The guy’s a towering wall of muscle, black hair falling into his icy-blue eyes. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, you listen.

“Ready to knock some heads, asshole?” I ask as I pass him.

Ares just nods, adjusting his pads.

Before I can lace up my skates and leave my stuff on the bench, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing a message from Rowan.

ROWAN: Keep the guys in line for me. Dinner at my place tonight. You and Ares better be there.

I look at Ares who’s looking down at his own phone and, no doubt, reading a similar text from Rowan. I smirk, tossing the phone on the bench.

Looks like I’ll be seeing her again sooner than I thought.

A few hours later, Ares and I are standing outside Rowan’s house, showered and definitely looking way better than we did a few hours ago at practice. I glance over at Ares, who looks about as thrilled as ever to be here. We each carry a basket full of wine, salami, cheese, and fruits.

“Ready for some family bonding?” I ask, grinning.

Ares just hums as he adjusts the bow on his basket. Typical.

We step inside, greeted by the smell of something cooking. Rowan comes around the corner, all towering muscle and sharp eyes.

“I hope you actually practiced today and didn’t use my absence to fuck around,” he says, voice gruff. “Glad you made it,” he adds.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply, throwing him a grin. “Only a small amount of fucking-around was done. You have nothing to worry about.”

We leave the baskets on the kitchen island and move into the dining room, where Avery’s setting the table. She looks up, and as soon as her eyes meet mine, I catch that same flicker of nervousness.

“Good evening.” I flash her my most dashing smile. “Smells delicious.”

“We made steak,” she replies, her voice a note too high. She’s trying so hard to act normal, but she’s wound tighter than a spring. Cute.

“Welcome back, Avery,” Ares’ unusually deep voice cuts through the soft music.

“Hi, Ares.” She waves a hand and looks away from him faster than the words leave her mouth. My mouth twitches, glad to see she’s just as terrified of him as everyone else.

Dinner is the usual spread—steak, roasted veggies, and the cheese and fruit we brought. It’s a whole lot of fancy for a family meal. Rowan’s idea of “casual.” We’re all sitting around the table, and I make damn sure to take the seat right next to Avery. I can feel her tense when my knee accidentally brushes hers under the table. It’s subtle, but it’s there, that little jolt of surprise I was waiting for. Every rational part of me is blasting red alarms, yet the thrill of it leads me straight past them and right to Avery.

Meanwhile, Rowan’s grilling her, completely unaware of the things I’m imagining doing to his little sister.

“So, how’s school been? Still planning to do that journalism thing here in LA?” He cuts into his steak, watching her closely.

Avery stumbles over her words. “Yeah, still planning on it. I just need to… figure out where I’m going to intern first. There are a few magazines I’ve been looking into.” Her voice is soft and nervous, tinged with that shyness I remember all too well.

I catch Rowan’s eye. “Magazines, huh? Are you planning to start some gossip column, digging into all our dirty secrets?”

Avery blushes. “No, I’m not into gossip. I want to write real stories.”

“There’s plenty of real stories to tell about Damien,” Rowan chuckles.

Avery glances my way, wide-eyed. She’s rattled, trying to cover it up with a sip of water. I hide a smirk behind my own glass.

“So, what about boys?” Rowan’s question catches her off-guard. I already know the answer.

She nearly chokes on her drink. “W-what about them?”

“I’m just saying, it’s college life. There had to be a few guys, right?” Rowan leans back in his chair, smirking. “You’re not going to make me kill anyone, are you?”

Her face is redder than the wine. “No. I’ve just been focused on school.”

The embarrassment rolling off her is enough to make me wonder. I lean in, my voice low so only she can hear.

“No one could keep up with you, huh?”

She glances at me, startled, her cheeks flushing even more, and I have to bite back a grin.

Avery swallows hard, clearly wanting the conversation to shift.

As the dinner drags on, I can’t stop glancing at her. The way her hand shakes a little when she reaches for her glass. The way she avoids looking directly at me. It’s driving me crazy in the best way.

Rowan’s talking to Ares about some business deal, but I’m not listening. Not really. My focus is on Avery.

At one point, our fingers brush when she hands me a dish, and I swear I see her flinch like electricity just zapped through her. I smile to myself, filing that reaction away for later.

The conversation goes on, Rowan completely unaware of the quiet storm brewing at the table. But I’m aware. I see every tiny movement she makes. Every breath.

By the end of dinner, I have enough adrenaline to run a marathon. The thrill of having Rowan right in front of us while I take every chance to touch her and bring that pink tone to her cheeks makes blood pump to all the wrong places.

“We’ll help you clean up,” I announce, throwing my napkin on the table. I make sure to touch her one last time, letting my hand rest on her lower back as I get up. She tenses under the light pressure, and I lean down, whispering low, “You seem jittery, Red.”

Her face flushes pink, and I feel her body stiffen as I pull away, leaving her sitting there, her hands fisting her napkin.

Yeah, I’ve never been one to make rational decisions, and this might be the most irrational one yet, but it’s already been made. I’m going to eat this girl alive, and I’m going to savor every goddamn bite.