Page 39 of Twisted Play

“Our agreement doesn’t mean you can do whatever the fuck you want,” I snarled as I whirled around. “You’re paid to assist the PT, not to play at being a puck bunny.”

Her audible gasp told me I’d hit the mark. “I’m not his type anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” I agreed, raking my eyes over her with contempt. She wasn’t. Too curvy. Too sweet. Too needy. Too likely to want a second time, and a third, and a fourth.

Her chin trembled with hurt before her spine straightened, and I saw a hint of the spark that had half the team panting after her.

And it was my own goddamned fault for giving in to the siren call of having her close.

“Like I said, I’m not fucking anyone on the team,” she said, her voice low and hurt, and I hated the pinch in my chest at the sound of her pain. “Not any of the players, anyway.”

Oh no, Eva. I haven’t fucked you yet. But I will.

I turned to face the team on the ice. “Line ’em up and warm up,” I snapped, and the team got to work.

16

EVA

My back ached.My feet ached. My thigh muscles ached.

“You’re looking rough.” Rory grinned as she tied her long blonde hair back in a messy bun. “Getting soft now that you’re not lifting boxes of food a few days a week?”

“Yeah, that’s definitely it,” I said, “and not the fact that I’m running myself ragged between volunteering, studying my ass off, hockey, and now this stupid shit for?—”

I cut myself off. I’d brought this on myself, after all. My surgery. My visit to Jedediah Carter. My willingness to get on my knees for Alek.My fault my fault my fault.My heart thumped hard in my chest, and I took a ragged breath before bringing my spiraling panic back under control.

Rory picked up the box beside mine and followed me over to the other side of the room, where we’d cataloged the donations. I’d squeezed in an evening shift then stuck around to help, since two volunteers had skipped their shifts.

“Is the saintly Eva Jackson actually complaining?” Rory teased me.

“I complain all the time.”

“No you don’t,” she shot back. “You’re the queen of acting like you have your shit together when you’re secretly falling apart. You never let anyone see when you’re hurting.”

“Not today.” I dropped the box on the pile and leaned on it, trying to find a position that didn’t send pain shooting through my heels. “Today, I’m tired.”

“Maybe you need a visit from your new boy to take your mind off things,” she said, nudging me in the side with her elbow.

“Hah. He—” Tristan had spent the weekend sending me memes and cute cat pictures, and I’d melted every time my phone chimed with another message from him. “He’s not mine,” I finished lamely. To my utter humiliation, my phone chimed, revealing a message from Tristan, which I quickly hid from Rory’s prying eyes.

Rory promptly picked up her own phone and dropped a bomb into our group chat.

Rory

Eva and Tristan sitting in a tree.

Vi

Has she fucked him yet?

Sage

lol…Eva?

Me

I hate you all.