Page 36 of Twisted Play (Cruel Games #1)

TRISTAN

I dropped my phone into the cupholder, annoyed with myself for revealing my possessive streak and worried I’d stepped over a line with Eva.

When her fingers crept over the center console to tangle with mine, my shoulders dropped with relief.

“That was shitty of me,” I muttered. “That bullshit with Cole and taking the picture. I’m sorry.” No matter what Eva had going on with Cole, I didn’t have the right to treat her like that, even though I wanted to have it, so fucking bad.

She didn’t say anything, just squeezed tighter and sank back into the seat. Her skirt rode up her thighs, and the memory of my hand on her hot pussy a few moments before had my cock hardening in my pants.

We pulled up in front of a storefront that had seen better days, advertising sports equipment. Eva furrowed her brow. “What are we buying?”

“I’m picking up skates.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’m your errand friend today.”

At my confused look, she grinned. “A friend you drag along on errands because you don’t want to do them by yourself.”

I blinked. That’s exactly what this was.

Not that I didn’t have ulterior motives—I wanted to get into Eva’s pants, drag her back to that moment in the library when she’d come on my lap, make her lose that tightly held control.

But I also loved how she didn’t give a fuck about my position on the hockey team.

“Yeah, Eva, you’re my errand friend,” I said with a smile as I hopped out of the car. “Nope!” I snapped as she moved to open her door.

She rolled her eyes but dropped back in her seat so I could open her door. She’d left her seatbelt buckled too, the brat, and I slid my hands over the fabric of her dress before I released it with a snap.

Eva curled her hand around my neck, dragging me down so she could brush her lips against mine. “This isn’t a date,” she whispered against my lips.

“Nope. Errands,” I confirmed before teasing at her lips with my tongue. She opened up with a sweet sigh. Fucking luscious. Her tongue slid against mine, and I grabbed her hip so I could turn her in the seat.

She laughed against my lips and adjusted so I stood between her thighs. She pulled back and ran her fingers over my hair before settling them on my shoulders, her expression turning pensive.

“Tristan, I?—”

“Let’s go pick up my skates,” I said, sure I didn’t want to hear whatever she was about to say. “First errand.”

Eva pressed her lips between her teeth and then accepted my hand so she could hop down from the vehicle.

The cashier, Hannah, greeted us with a wave and a smile. “You came to pick up your custom order!” She’d been working here since the start of the season and always found reasons to chat. “Want to try them on?”

Hannah returned with the pristine white box, her fingers trailing over the logo. “I watched some of your summer league games. You’ve really stepped it up since last season.”

“Thanks.” I took the box, but she didn’t release it immediately.

“A bunch of us are going to Murphy’s after the game Saturday. You should come.”

My eyes caught on Eva, who’d carefully stepped away while Hannah flirted with me. She stood in front of the practice jerseys, fingers running over the fabric, that blank look on her face, the one of perfect composure she got when she was hiding her thoughts.

“Eva!” I called. “Come here, kitten.”

When she reached us, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her against me. She fit perfectly into my side, like she belonged there, and my heart swelled with pride when she relaxed into me instead of pulling away.

Eva traced her fingers over the pristine leather, and I had to fight to focus on the gear instead of how right she felt pressed against me.

Hannah’s smile dimmed as she watched Eva lean into me. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, but her flirtatious tone had vanished.

I couldn’t bring myself to care, not with Eva warm against my side, not with how natural it felt to drop a kiss on top of her head while she examined the skates. Mine, I wanted to tell everyone who looked our way. She’s mine.

“When do you need to be home?” I asked as I loaded my skates and the other gear I’d bought into the trunk.

Eva checked her phone—wait, did she have two phones?—and sighed. “I have to stop by campus this weekend, but—” She trailed off. “I’m going to do it tomorrow. What else is on your list?”

My answering smile must have been ridiculous, because hers turned amused. “Groceries and then picking up snacks for the game tonight.”

Her brow furrowed. “Game?”

“New York Anarchists,” I said, trying to gauge her reaction. “We’re going to watch at the house. Nothing fancy—just pizza and hockey.”

Her expression softened, but something told me she was reluctant. Before she could refuse, I continued. “Come on, kitten. It’ll be a good game. The team loves you—the girls too.” I caged her against the passenger door of my Jeep and cupped her cheek. “It’ll be fun.”’

Eva’s cheeks puffed out as she exhaled, her walls not quite as high as they’d been earlier. “Just for a little while.”

“Just for a little while,” I agreed, already planning how to keep her there all evening. “But first, groceries.”

She stepped into me so I could open the door for her, and I couldn’t resist leaning down to brush my lips against hers. Even the brief contact sent electricity sparking through me. Eva’s flushed cheeks gratified me—I affected her as much as she affected me.

“Are you and your brother close?”

“He’s given me everything.”

Eva’s brow furrowed. “You’ve worked hard for what you have.”

Warmth bloomed in my chest. “Of course I have, but hockey’s not cheap. Neither are private coaches, travel teams, gym memberships, equipment—it’s all so fucking expensive. Once Coach recruited me, the university could kick in for some of it, but getting there?”

When Eva didn’t say anything, I continued, getting it off my chest. “My parents were poor—Mom’s family disowned her when she married a broke cowboy because she fell in love.

They did everything they could for us, and now, my brother bought them land so they could have their own ranch.

He’s investing so Dad doesn’t have to do it all himself, but all that’s expensive too. ”

“You feel like you’re just one more mouth to feed,” Eva said quietly. She reached over to twine her fingers in mine. “Family’s tough, huh?”

She ran her fingers over the T-shaped scar on her collarbone. “My dad gave up everything for me,” she said softly. “I had my first heart surgery at six. And—” She stopped, and I squeezed her hand. “Anyway, I get it. It sounds like your brother loves you very much.”

“And I want to be worthy of that.”

Eva’s lips tilted up. “I think he probably loves you no matter what.”

Instead of responding, I squeezed her hand again then parked the car at the grocery store.

Inside, she naturally fell into step beside me, leaning over my arm to peek at the list on my phone.

The domesticity of it hit me hard, and I imagined Eva coming with me every week as I picked up my contribution to the hockey house’s pantry.

When she reached for my protein powder on a high shelf, I stepped close behind her to help. My hand settled on her waist to steady her, and for just a moment, she leaned back into me.

I didn’t say anything about how perfectly she fit against me, or how her breath caught when I touched her. I stayed close as we shopped, finding excuses to guide her with a hand on the small of her back, to reach around her for items, to exist in her space.

“Think we’ve got everything, errand friend?” I asked, tugging her close to show her the list on my phone.

Eva didn’t answer right away, her gaze locked on my lips. Her tongue darted out to wet her own, and I took the invitation, whether she intended it or not.

She melted into me, and I suppressed my frustration at her refusal to admit she wanted this as badly as I did. When we pulled apart, her eyes were glazed with need. “The game starts soon,” she said, her voice raspy.

I smiled at the way she couldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Then we better hurry.”

I guided Eva through the front door of the hockey house, my hand on the small of her back, hyperaware of where my fingers grazed the fabric of her dress.

Familiar chaos spilled through the open windows—the guys arguing about plays from last season, the laughter of puck bunnies, and Haruto yelling about his lucky spot on the couch.

Eva hesitated, and I bent close, relishing our proximity. “They don’t bite, kitten.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she murmured but continued into the house without letting me interrogate what she mentioned.

The team sprawled across the living room in their usual spots, girls interspersed between them, but the energy shifted the moment Eva walked in.

Rami, who lived there with us, sat up straighter, despite the puck bunny stroking her fingers through his hair, and Massi, who didn’t, raised a sharp eyebrow.

Haruto’s eyes darted between us before his lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Eva!” Cole called from the kitchen. “Perfect timing. Tell Haruto he’s full of shit about Toronto’s defensive line.”

She laughed, some of her tension falling away, but I caught how her steps faltered when Cole emerged, deliciously rumpled in grey sweats and a t-shirt that hugged his muscles.

One of the girls on the loveseat looked up from where she tangled her fingers in Rami’s hair and raised a blonde eyebrow. “Working your way through the team, I see.”

Eva stiffened immediately, stepping forward from the hand I still had on her back, confirming my suspicions. Cole had made his move. My heart plummeted, and for a moment, I was too distracted to address the real problem—Eva’s hurt and embarrassment.

While I was flailing, Cole slid to Eva’s other side, so we flanked her, and he dropped his arm over her shoulders, squeezing his hand over her bare deltoid. “Yeah, and?”

Guess he was serious about sharing. Was I?