Page 46 of Vying Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #2)

Tilda

Despite Coach’s pointed warning, the bar is packed with hockey players either celebrating or commiserating the penultimate day of the summer tournament. Besides Varsity, this tourney is what we train for all year, drawing competing universities from all across the country.

Thankfully, today, we fall into the former camp. If we don’t mess up too much tomorrow, we’re undoubtedly going to win this. It’s made our girls reckless. I’m only on my third and final drink, but some of this lot are going to be hanging bad come tomorrow.

I check the time on my phone. It’s late and I’m tired after the thrashing we doled out. I slurp the remnants of my vodka and coke, catching Nic’s eyes. She looks away and knocks back the rest of whatever she’s drinking.

Something buzzes through me at our tacit communication, so effective we might as well have spoken out loud. Didn’t take us long to return to that point. Mum used to call us the psychic sisters with how often we finished each other’s sentences.

Then a different buzz shoots through me as I weave with her through the packed bar. I don’t know if its Damien’s looming threat or something else that made Nic insist on us sharing a room.

Am I hoping for that something else?

It’s been a couple of weeks since our birthday and all that came after it.

We’ve not spoken of it; hadn’t thought we would.

The others don’t know. It’s our little secret, something binding, something unspoken but just as potent.

Every time we’re in a room together, I feel it.

Even when we’re not together, it’s there, our invisible thread pulsing through campus.

It’s similar to how I feel with the others, some up and running connection.

Like a charged powerline, a spell we unknowingly weaved.

I don’t know how Nic feels about it all, but she’s been less snippy than usual. Quieter, distant. Probably fighting off demons, the ones telling her she’s supposed to hate me. I still feel the disdain, only it’s softer. So fragile I’m not sure it won’t crack again.

Since Nic’s captain, she got dibs on a single room. She caught my eyes after that announcement, the look in them telling me I’ll be sharing it with her, like it or not.

Judging by the anticipation building in my belly, I’d say I like it.

She gets the door unlocked, releasing a sigh as she pushes inside. ‘Fuck, I’m knackered.’

‘You and me both. We killed it though.’

She scoffs lightly. ‘Just wait until Varsity.’

‘Honestly can’t wait.’

We’re silent as we set about getting changed for bed, the air in the room growing thicker by the second.

I will my slight vodka buzz to stick around, trying my best to keep my mind loose.

It’s just Nic. No matter what does or doesn’t happen, it’s just Nic.

My former shadow, myself outside of myself. I don’t need to be nervous.

She’s ready before me, falling over the bed in her stripy pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. ‘Call this a double?’ she mutters, looking down the length of the bed dispassionately. ‘Cold feet tonight.’

I smile, refraining from making some comment about how cosy we’re going to be. It’s obvious that’s on her mind. I watch her surreptitiously in the mirror as I remove my makeup. She scrolls through her phone, one ankle turning in slow rotations.

My body simmers at the sight. All those instances of hyperawareness, had it actually been attraction?

Had I just been dense, so new in the sapphic sphere, not to know any better?

I mean, it’s Nic. She was practically my stepsister at one point.

The girl who grew up believing I ruined her entire life.

It’s no wonder my mind blanked on anything more.

It still feels surreal. Surreal but strangely inevitable now I’m seeing clearly.

To me, anyway. Nic’s still resisting, if there is anything to resist for her.

She might have enjoyed our spontaneous half fuck, but I doubt it was anything more than a weak moment for her.

She cycles through the light switches as I make my way over to the bed, her face set in a scowl until she hits the right one.

‘So fucking techno,’ she grouses. ‘They’re fucking lights.’

‘Alright, Granny. Keep your wig on.’

She keeps the soft headboard lights on, wincing a little as she pulls her straightened leg to her chest.

‘Aching?’

‘Mm. Slacked on stretches.’

I turn on my side, looking up at her profile. ‘Want me to massage it out?’

She sends me a look that makes me chuckle. Maybe I haven’t sobered up as much as I thought after all.

‘Not looking for a repeat,’ she murmurs, putting her attention back on her phone.

My breath catches at the casual acknowledgment. I hadn’t thought she’d want to remember, pushing the memory to the back of her mind where all our other good memories go to die. It spurs me on somewhat, her first mistake.

‘Not hating me enough to hate-fuck?’

‘I don’t have the energy to hate-fuck.’

I cluck my tongue. ‘You really are a granny tonight, aren’t you?’

‘Keep talking, Tilda…’

‘And you’ll what? Find the energy?’

‘Kick you out the fucking room,’ she snaps.

I snigger but relent. I carry on watching her, listening to her soft breaths, the ankle she keeps turning.

I wonder who she’s messaging, surprised by the jolt of jealousy at the thought of her talking to some other girl. Is she alone in that tent every night? Does Skylar ever visit? Someone else?

‘Messaging my girlfriends?’ I ask, assuming it’s no one other than Elly and Haz.

She frowns. ‘I’m messaging my friends.’

‘You have a group chat without me? Ouch.’

‘We had a group chat long before you ever came on the scene. I’m sure you have one without me too.’

‘Oh yeah. Where else would I send all my nudes? Can add you to it if you want? I took a reeeeeally nice one earlier where I’m—’

My breath stutters when she rolls on top of me, one warm palm covering my mouth.

‘You really don’t know when to stop, do you?’

It feels like a challenge. I don’t want to stop. I breathe hard through my nose, looking into those eyes right above mine. They flash with something. Warning? A dare? Something that makes me stick out my tongue and take a swipe at her palm.

‘Knew you were going to do that,’ she grits out, the beginnings of a grin on her face. ‘Fucking knew you were going to do that.’

I remove her hand, holding it with my own. ‘Always was my calling card.’

‘Feral fucking cretin that you were.’

‘I prefer hag.’

Nic hums, regarding my face consideringly.

‘You know that term was coined by men? Not surprising really. Must be threatening, women over marriage age choosing to live independent, happily, all without the need for a husband. Probably knocked back an insecure man or two in their time. In that sense, you are a hag. Me too, for that matter.’

I stare up into her face. ‘You are such a nerd. It’s cool, though.’

‘Is it?’

‘Mm. I’ve always liked your brain.’

‘I’ve always liked your face,’ she confesses, lowering her fingers to my lips. ‘These.’

My stomach summersaults, almost too scared to breathe in case I scare her off. ‘I remember.’

‘Mmm, bet you do.’

Her voice is harder now, her eyes too. She’s recalling the kiss I denied her.

I can see it, each time she returns to the past, rifling through that part of her brain that holds true to her concocted opinion of me.

What was once as easy as breathing, she now has to fight for.

I can tell it angers her. She doesn’t want to believe her hatred for me all these years was wasted.

‘I’d give you that kiss now,’ I whisper, heart beating so loud I barely hear the words.

There’s no softening in her face, eyes as hard as two tiger eye stones. Guess she found the energy to hate after all.

She recovers my mouth with her hand, either to restrain me or herself. She might not want to kiss, but there’s still that goading look in her face. Repeating what I did before, I lick her palm, this time feeling an echoing twinge in my clit.

Nic’s eyelashes flutter, her breath releasing through her nose.

I keep her hand pressed to my mouth with both of mine, holding it in place as I map the lines of her palm. She shifts on top of me, breath catching as she inadvertently grinds on my leg. I look up at her with wide eyes, begging, screaming , for her to keep going.

Stiffening my thigh, I press it into her, gently, encouragingly. She pushes back, deliberately this time, a darkening coming over her face.

After a few thrusts, her mouth falls open, my chest singing with victory.

She gives in, digging her knee between my legs and forcing them open.

She clamps one between her own, her teeth clenched as she gasps.

My own breaths are loud, warming her hand still covering my mouth.

I circle it with my tongue, just like I would her clit, her thrusts matching the increasing pace.

After a moment, I push back, my eyes slamming shut as pleasure ricochets from my pussy. I groan behind her hand, surprised at my own response. Fuck, I can come from this too if I let myself.

Nic leans on her forearm, her breaths ghosting my face. ‘Bite me.’

I rake my teeth over her palm, glowing when she humps faster, half burying her face in my neck.

It’s probably easier not to look at me. It’s easier for me too.

I close my eyes, moving my pussy in tight circles.

My heart thuds painfully hard, ratcheting up the sensitivity in my clit.

I usually have to be on my front for this kind of thing to work, but I’m already so fucking close I know it won’t take much more.

I dare to snake a hand down to her waist, touching where her top’s ridden up, enjoying the warmth of her skin, the slight fuzz on her lower back around her scars.

She doesn’t stop me touching her this time. If anything, she speeds up, her breaths frantic now, as close to coming as I am. I grasp her hip to aid her, sucking her fingers into my mouth and nipping her skin.