Page 6

CHAPTER 6

Andry

I manage to avoid every party invite from the guys on the team throughout the week. They accept my excuses of needing time to adjust and wanting to get ahead on my work.

But when Friday creeps up, they don’t let me get away with anything anymore. Liam and his followers stop me in the kitchen when I come down to grab a quick protein shake before class.

“You’re coming tonight,” he tells me.

I raise a brow at him. “Coming where?”

We both know where he wants me to go. Still, I’m not going to blindly agree. I’m no pushover.

“Party. Sigmas are throwing one tonight. I don’t care if you only hit up one a week, you’re going to start being a part of this damn team. Don’t make me tell Coach you’re avoiding us. He’ll make you run drills.”

I scoff. Drills. Like that’s scary to me.

Is it worth it to keep pushing them away? We do have to work together on the ice this season. Pissing them off too much is going to be counterproductive.

Also, as much as I don’t mind drills, I’d rather earn them because of something I actually did, rather than because someone didn’t get their way.

What could a party hurt anyway? It won’t be that bad.

* * *

By the time the party comes around, I worry I underestimated just how bad this would be. The music reaches us long before we get to the house. Some deep beat that pulses through the air.

I ignore it and the people roaming around as I put on my mask of indifference. No reason to let these guys see a reaction from me.

And none of this was so wild I hadn’t seen something similar to it before. Parties back home were full of people making bad decisions. I avoided them as much as I could, though even there I was required to attend a certain amount. Those instances were more to keep my face in front of some important people rather than because my team wanted me to get wasted with them.

Either way, I know the game. I’ll play it until I can slip out.

“Let’s party!” Liam shouts as we move up the porch steps.

I ignore whatever reply everyone offers as I take in the crowd. There’s a big ratio of guys to girls here. I ignore more of them in favor of looking out for my little genius. I doubt this is his scene, but if he’s here, I’ll find him.

As I’m scanning the room, I feel eyes on me. I don’t know how I know it’s him. I just do.

When I spot him, I’m surprised to see him leaning against the wall talking to a cute girl with long braids and a short dress on. The two look cozy.

Is it because they’re friends? Or is there something more going on?

Their arms are connected too. She’s holding on to him, though he doesn’t appear to push her away. He also isn’t pulling her closer.

They share some words, then she’s bending over to laugh. Her obvious flirting has me leaving the group behind to approach them. I need to know who she is to him and if she’ll be competition. Surely I can show him how wrong she is for him.

The only person he needs like that is me. I’ll treat him so well he won’t feel like he’s lost out on anything. He’ll be far too spoiled to care.

“You’re very, very wrong. Whatever look you’re getting is probably because the team already told him how awful I am. It’s not a jealousy thing,” I hear him tell her once I’m close.

She grins wide, telling him, “I wish we had more time to place a bet on this. It would be fun to put smarty pants RoRo in his place for once.”

I take that as my chance to jump in I say, “Hello.”

At the same time, he asks her, “More time?”

The girl looks amused at the overlap. She lifts her cup, guzzling it down like she’s desperate for more. “Oh! Would you look at that? I need another drink. Be right back, RoRo.”

Since he’s turned to face her, I can’t see his expression. When she steps away, I move to fill the space.

“RoRo?” I question softly. My voice is low for two reasons: The first because I want our conversation to be private and the second is because if he can’t hear me, he’ll move closer.

I always want him closer.

He shakes his head. “Rodney. My name is Rodney.”

While I’m already aware of his full name, I still act as if it’s the first time I’ve heard it. No need for him to worry about my obsessive tendencies yet. Smiling, I repeat after him. “Rodney.”

The man I’ve been infatuated over doesn’t speak up again. I take the chance to shift a hair closer as I lean down to ask him about his friend.

“I hope I didn’t scare your girlfriend away.” Lie.

Let’s scare her away all the time. Stay gone. Never come back.

Rodney scrunches his face. “Yaz? My girlfriend? Hardly. She’s actually here tonight to try to hook up with some girl she has a crush on. I’m her wingman — or so she claims.”

The news that they aren’t a couple gives me hope. Now I just need to confirm he’s as single as I need him to be before I pursue him.

Though, it wouldn’t be a complete hindrance. I’m more than willing to have a talk with someone to show them just how undeserving they are of Rodney’s love.

It’s mine.

Only mine.

“Is there someone else? A different girl?”

He hums, his gaze not quite meeting mine. “No.”

“Is that because you like men?”

That gets his attention. Rodney’s head turns my way, his expression closed off. It’s the least open I’ve seen him so far.

“Why are you asking? Did Liam send you over here to make fun of me? Is this how you get to prove you’re one of the team?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he keeps going. “Well, you can tell him to fuck off. I’m not dealing with his bullshit tonight. He knows I’m gay, just like everyone else does. There’s your answer. Now I’m going to leave to find Yaz and get out of here.”

He takes off through the crowd, his smaller form weaving through others at a rate I couldn’t dare mimic. I watch him for a moment, my head spinning over the information he just sent my way.

He thinks the team put me up to talking to him, which means they’ve given him shit before. And he mentioned Liam by name. I knew I didn’t like the asshole, but now I’m concerned I’ll have to fucking kill him.

I have an uncle that’s head of the Bratva. He’s an estranged relative, though I’m sure he’d show up if I asked for the favor. It’s my father he has issues with, not me. Plus, he won’t resist the chance to toss his weight around.

Pushing away thoughts of murder, I take off in the same direction Rodney went. He needs to know I’m not here because of some initiation or for any other reason than wanting him.

Given my height, I’m able to spot him when he slips out the back door. I ignore the rest of the team trying to get my attention as I move through the crowd. They can have their fun. All they asked was for me to show up. I’m here and now I have a mission of my own to complete.

At the back door, there’s a small holdup that means it takes me even longer to get outside. I don’t see him at first glance. The area is just as packed as the inside. From my position on the raised deck, I scan the crowd for any sign of Rodney or Yaz.

When I don’t see him, I take off down the stairs to see if I can spot him around the side of the house. As luck would have it, he’s leaning against the building when I round the corner.

There’s a gate not far to his right, which blocks off the area to anyone who might try to get to the front of the house. No wonder there weren’t lots of people over here. It must be common knowledge for them. This place seems like it hosts lots of parties.

“Rodney,” I call out to get his attention. I don’t want to scare him or make him feel cornered.

His body goes still at my voice. He turns to face me, his expression telling me he’s confused as to why I’m even here.

I raise my hands to show I mean him no harm.

“What are you doing here? I already told you I didn’t want —”

“I’m not friends with them,” I interrupt. “The team is just a team to me. I didn’t know you had history with them.”

He makes a noise that’s half laugh, half sob. “History is putting it mildly. Though it’s not just them. Most athletes seem to hate me.”

“I don’t like that.”

“You and me both. There’s nothing to be done about it. I’ve been their target since high school. College has been better I guess, though not by much. At least it’s not physical now.”

The way he says the words gives them a sense of finality. Like he’s been hurt time and time again, yet no one stood up for him.

It makes me furious.

How could anyone want to hurt him? They’re all fucking idiots.

Idiots who are going to learn a lesson the next time they go after my little genius. Maybe a few black eyes will do the trick. If not, then I've learned more than one lesson from my family to get people to do what I want them to.

“They won’t hurt you anymore. I vow it.”

He looks at me skeptically. I’m not sure how I can reassure him that I mean what I said.

“You can’t promise that. You won’t always be where I am.”

“Give me your phone.”

While he might not fully trust me, his body seems to be on board. He takes out the device, unlocking it and handing it over without question.

I key in my number, then call myself. Since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to get it back, I label myself as “My Andry” with a blue heart beside it.

“Now you have my number. Any time you have trouble, call or text me. I’ll come.”

He looks down at the screen when I hand it back. I think I see a slight smile form, though I can’t tell with how dim it is.

“What if you’re busy? You won’t always be able to come to my rescue,” he says softly.

I shake my head, daring to step further into his space. “There will never be a time I won’t come for you. You call, I’ll come. It’s that simple.”

“Why?”

It’s a good question. One I expected him to ask earlier.

Now that it sits between us, I worry what the best answer will be. Should I tell him the truth? Or will my feelings be too much?

He’s already been timid with me. I’d hate to scare him.

But I also don’t want to lie.

I go with the easiest answer. “Because I want to take care of you. Because you deserve to be treated like the precious man you are.”

His body jolts at my words. “What? Why would you say that? Is this part of the joke?”

There’s nothing else I can say to prove to him I’m serious. He needs my actions to give him the confidence to believe.

I move in front of him, pressing close enough he has to step back to avoid me.

That’s it, little genius. Fall right into my trap.

My hands move to pin him in. I’m all he can see, all he can feel in this moment.

“None of this is a joke. I’ve wanted you from the second you ran into me. I mean every word I’ve said to you. I want to spoil you rotten, Rodney. You’re mine, little genius.”

He gasps as my lips slot over his.

Nothing has ever felt so right.