Page 37 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)

Talon

The door cracked open, and there she was.

Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, sleeves tugged down over her hands. Her eyes were tired, rimmed with exhaustion, but they still locked on mine like she’d been waiting.

I’d only been gone half a day, and I’d missed her every second I was away.

She stepped aside without a word and let me in. The room smelled faintly of the cherry blossom lotion I’d bought her. Her laptop was still open on the bed, a handful of tabs glowing on the screen.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to just show up,” I said, my voice low. “I was gonna text, but…”

“I’ve been ignoring my phone for a bit, so I’m glad you didn’t.”

Her tone was soft, sincere. She tugged at her sleeve hem, pulling it over her knuckles. She looked tired, the kind of tired that came from carrying too much for too long.

I stepped closer. “How are you holding up? ”

Before she could answer, Alisa came out of the bathroom with a towel around her head and a smirk already in place.

“If it isn’t the knight in bruised armor,” she said.

“Alisa—” Wren started, but she cut her off.

“I’m just saying,” Alisa teased, eyes flicking between us, “he’s been broody as hell on ESPN, and you’ve been watching that clip like it’s your favorite rom-com.”

I coughed into my hand, fighting a laugh. Wren groaned.

Alisa snagged her keys from the desk and pointed at me. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her while you’ve been out there in playoff interviews, throwing punches without ever dropping your gloves. Don’t worry, I know when to make myself scarce.” She winked at Wren. “You’re welcome.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

Wren shook her head, but I caught the corner of her mouth trying to hide a smile.

“She’s the best,” I said.

“She is,” she admitted, then stilled when she caught the look on my face.

I dropped my voice. “But I was hoping you’d come with me.”

Her brows pulled together. “Come where?”

“Back to the house.” I rubbed the back of my neck, nerves buzzing under my skin.

“I don’t like the thought of you here alone, watching your phone light up every time your name is mentioned.

Kade’s visiting his mom, and Rowdy and Owen hit up the rink for a bit.

We’ve got space. And you and me…” I hesitated.

“We haven’t really had time. Not since before the playoffs started. ”

Her gaze lifted, something soft flickering beneath the exhaustion. “You want me to stay with you? ”

I brushed a piece of hair from her cheek. “Yeah. I do.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Okay,” she whispered.

She didn’t say much while she packed, but I could see a little of the strain lift knowing she wouldn’t spend the night dodging her phone. She folded her jeans into clean stacks, zipped her bag, and wound her charger before tucking it into the side pocket.

I leaned on the doorframe, watching her move around the room, double-checking she had everything.

“You sure you don’t wanna bring the whole closet?” I tried, aiming for lightness.

She glanced over her shoulder, lips twitching. “Tempting, but I wasn’t planning to be gone long.”

“Wren, you should know there are people outside. Two cars, same as the ones that followed me here.”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Press?”

“Maybe. Or your dad’s people, keeping tabs.”

She drew in a breath, shoulders rising and falling, then reached for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with missed calls and unread texts. Without pausing, she opened her settings—one tap to shut off location, another to hit do not disturb.

The silence felt final.

She set the phone face down. “That’s it,” she said quietly. “No more watching, no more controlling me.”

My chest tightened, but I nodded. “You’re really doing it.”

Her chin lifted. “Yeah. I am.”

For a moment, I saw the girl she used to be—the one who kept everything neat, polished, careful, holding it all together on a tightrope no one else noticed .

But that wasn’t who stood in front of me now. This Wren had steel in her spine and fire in her eyes.

I picked up the hoodie at the foot of her bed and held it out. “Maybe throw this on? Just in case someone’s waiting with a camera.”

She looked at the hoodie, then back at me. Instead of putting it on, she folded it neatly and tucked it into her duffel.

“I’m not wearing it,” she said, steady. “I’m done hiding, Talon. I’ve spent my whole life playing it safe, doing what was expected. If they want a picture of me walking away in my boyfriend’s hoodie, with him beside me, let them.”

The room went still, the kind of stillness right before puck drop when the air is heavy with breath you haven’t released yet.

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“I’m not,” she whispered. “Not to them. I’m proving this to me.”

That was when it sank in. She wasn’t just breaking away from her father’s shadow. She was claiming her own name.

I laced our fingers together. “Let’s go.”

We slipped down the stairwell, every creak of the steps echoing in the quiet. Outside, the streetlights cast long shadows, and across the road, the cars were still there—same tinted windows, same outline. Waiting.

Wren didn’t falter, her hand firm in mine. The second we stepped outside, it hit us all at once. Voices overlapping, lights cutting through the dark, camera flashes popping sharp enough to sting the eyes .

Her grip trembled, just for a second, and I held steady, guiding her down the steps outside her dorm. My spine prickled. I didn’t need to look around to know they’d been waiting.

Reporters packed the sidewalk, bodies pressing forward, phones and microphones shoved toward us. Some bore the local station logos I recognized, but plenty didn’t. This wasn’t just campus news anymore. It had already spread past Rixton.

“Mr. Pierce, how involved were you in the exposé?”

“Wren, are you the one leaking information to the press?”

“What does this mean for your father and his administration?”

“Wren, are you sleeping with the captain out of revenge?

That last question hit harder than the rest. Wren’s stride faltered, and I slowed with her.

We stopped in the middle of it, flashes going off in our faces, voices pressing in from every side. Her shoulder brushed mine, her pulse racing. She stood rigid, expression set, but her eyes gave her away. The storm she’d been holding back was right there.

She didn’t have to meet my eyes for me to know. We were done hiding, and I wasn’t letting anyone shove her back into the dark.

I slid my thumb over the back of her hand, then turned toward her. My other hand came up to her cheek, and before I could think twice, I kissed her.

The world didn’t fade—it exploded. Flashes went wild, reporters gasping and shouting over each other, but none of it touched me. All I felt was her mouth on mine, her fists curling into my hoodie, dragging me closer, kissing me back hard enough to knock me off balance.

No hesitation. No fear. Just us.

When we finally pulled apart, the noise had dropped. Microphones lowered. For once, the press didn’t seem to know what to do.

Wren’s breath caught, lips still parted, before a laugh slipped free. A real laugh, not forced or nervous.

“Think that answered their question?” she asked, her voice light even though her eyes still shone.

I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, smiling before I could stop myself. “Loud and clear.”

I didn’t wait for the next barrage. I opened the truck door and helped her inside, then went around to the driver’s seat. The flashes were still popping, the cameras still following, but none of it mattered.

The only thing that did was sitting beside me in my truck. She was coming home with me.

Her head leaned against the window as we pulled away from campus, city lights shrinking in the rearview. A small smile tugged at her lips, like it had finally found a home. I hoped it never left.

“You good?” I asked, my voice low in the quiet of the cab.

She met my eyes, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

I reached across the console, lacing my fingers through hers. “You didn’t even flinch back there.”

A soft laugh slipped out of her. “I wanted to. But then you kissed me. I figured if I was going to get dragged through the fire, it might as well be with someone worth it. ”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My chest was too tight, adrenaline still running hot. All I could do was hold her hand and not let go.

When I turned onto our street, the house came into view. I pulled up to the curb and cut the engine. By the time I reached for her bag, she was already at the door, chin up, duffel slung over her shoulder.

“I’ve got it,” she said before I could offer.

“Didn’t say you didn’t,” I muttered, a hint of a grin tugging at me.

Her smirk followed me inside. The front door shut with a dull thud, closing out the outside world. My hand stayed wrapped around hers, right where it belonged.

Judging from the voices in the kitchen, we weren’t alone.

We stepped into the dining room and found Rowdy sprawled on a barstool with a beer in hand. His bare feet were kicked up on the stool beside him, eyes on the TV in the corner. The screen flashed with footage of me and Wren mid-kiss, reporters swarming in the background.

Rowdy grinned without looking away. “Well, look who it is—Rixton U’s new power couple. Should we start calling you Mr. and Mrs. Rixton? Maybe grab autographs before the price goes up?”

Wren froze for a beat, biting her lip like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or disappear.

“I figured it’d be everywhere,” I muttered, pulling two waters from the fridge. “Didn’t think it’d blow up this fast.”

“Oh, it nuked something,” Owen called as he strolled in, phone in hand and a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I just watched a TikTok of you two kissing set to Taylor Swift’s ‘End Game.’ Congrats, you’ve officially made it to BookTok. ”

Wren laughed under her breath, color rising in her cheeks.

Rowdy leaned back on his stool. “So was that the hard launch, or do I need to post the footage myself with a ship name?”

“Call it the hard launch,” I said, shooting him a look. “You got a problem with that?”

He lifted his hands. “Not a problem. I’m just glad we can stop walking on eggshells every time her name came up and you got all broody about it.”

Owen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his voice losing the edge of teasing. “Seriously. We’re glad you’re here. You both went through hell and came out standing. That says something.”

Wren blinked, touched even through the teasing. “Thank you.”

Rowdy hopped off his stool and slung an arm over her shoulders. “You’re one of us now. Which means three things: the fridge is fair game, prank wars are off-limits unless you start them, and if Talon ever screws up, we’re all on your side.”

“Not gonna happen,” I said, my voice low.

Rowdy’s grin stretched wider. “Look at him. All protective. Our boy’s growing up.”

Her smile lingered, softer this time, as her eyes drifted around the kitchen. They landed on the team photo pinned beside the fridge—one where everyone was laughing, like the outside world didn’t exist. She studied it, not sure she fit in yet, but wanting to.

I stepped closer, my voice low while Rowdy and Owen argued in the background. “You okay? ”

She nodded, quiet. “It’s just… the noise outside never stops. But here, with you and the guys, it’s easier to forget it’s there.”

I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not on your own anymore.”

When she leaned into me, I knew something had shifted. We weren’t just clinging to the wreckage—we were starting to move forward. Together.

I threaded my fingers through hers and led her out of the kitchen, past the crooked frames on the wall and Rowdy’s laugh trailing after us. The stairs groaned under our steps, louder in the quiet. At the top, I loosened my grip just long enough to open the door.

She walked in first, her duffel slipping off her shoulder and hitting the floor with a dull thud. She looked around, not like it was new, but like she was measuring it against the last time she stood here.

I came up behind her, pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, then moved toward the bathroom. The towel on the hook brushed against my hand when I reached for it. When I turned back, she was watching me, eyes fixed on me, not wanting to let me out of her sight.

I held my hand out. “Come with me.”

Her brow lifted. “To shower?”

“I need one,” I said, a faint smile pulling at my mouth. “But I don’t want to be away from you.”

This time, she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers slid into mine, and I led her a few steps to the en suite. I turned the knob, letting the water run until it steadied, then faced her again. Steam rose between us, curling into the space.

Her eyes stayed locked on mine, certain .

I brushed my fingers along the hem of her shirt. “Let me?”

She gave the slightest nod.

I pulled the shirt over her head, my hands lingering at her sides just long enough to feel the shiver that ran through her. Her breath caught when I unclasped her bra, and she leaned into me as it slipped away.

I eased her jeans down until they pooled at her feet. She stepped out of them without a word, leaving only her bracelet and the fire in her eyes.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” I breathed.

Her hands slipped under the hem of my hoodie and pulled it over my head. She didn’t rush, stripping the layers until it was just skin and heat between us.

I guided her into the shower, the spray hitting our shoulders before sliding down our bodies. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, letting the water run over her, and I just looked. Took her in, memorizing every detail in case it all slipped away.

I worked shampoo into her hair with slow hands, rinsing away the day, the tension, all of it. She turned into me, palms flat against my chest, and I dropped my forehead to hers.

We didn’t talk. We didn’t need to.

I held her there under the water, gripping her like I’d lose her if I let go.

When we finally stepped out, I wrapped her in a towel and kissed her—her shoulder, the corner of her mouth, the curve of her neck.

She tipped her head back, drops catching on her lashes. “Thank you,” she whispered .

I brushed my thumb over her cheek, my chest tight. “Wren,” I rasped, my voice catching. “I love you.”

Her lips parted, breath catching, but her eyes said she’d been waiting for it. She searched my face. “I love you too.”

The words hit me hard, breaking something open in my chest. I kissed her again, rougher this time, pulling her close until I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.

Heat flared, but it wasn’t about that. Not sex. Not escape.

It was about us. Saying it when it mattered most, when the world pressed in and we still chose each other. And that was all I needed.