I follow Aspen from the music rooms to the dining hall. She doesn’t know I’m following her, that I’ve been lurking in her shadows since she stopped replying to my texts. She’s gone radio silent, and we have two days until the game in New York.
She joins up with Willow, Violet, Greyson, and Thalia. Knox comes over, too, and they all head inside for dinner. I come along slower, dragging my feet.
I’m all twisted up inside.
Aspen and I need to get back on track—simple as that.
But when I finish getting my food and go into the section with the tables, I find Aspen sitting toward the end of the table. Across from Chase fucking King.
That football asshole really has no idea who he’s messing with. I should’ve beat him up when I had the chance, consequences be damned.
He pats her arm, and I almost drop my plate. I make a beeline for their end of the table and sink into the empty chair beside her. She sucks in a little breath, and I allow myself to enjoy her surprise. I spread my legs under the table until my thigh connects with hers. The connection eases my anger a touch.
I glower at Chase, who seems mildly annoyed. But not afraid.
I’d prefer if he was afraid. Too bad he’s got a daddy who rivals mine in terms of power and money. That’s why he’s almost untouchable. Because if he makes a phone call, I’ll get the heat for it. No escaping that.
Fucking bastard.
“Hey, O’Brien, you ready for your game on Saturday?” Chase grins, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m always ready,” I reply. I mirror his position and drop my hands to my thighs. Food forgotten.
Aspen doesn’t look at me. She spears salad with her fork and eyes Thalia, a little farther down. Miles is beside her, with Violet and Greyson beyond them. Willow sits on Aspen’s other side with Knox. It’s very couple-y, how they’ve decided to pair off. Except Thalia, who seems to be a free agent, and Miles. Who definitely doesn’t have any attachments.
Are they trying to matchmake? I wouldn’t doubt Willow’s and Violet’s interference in that regard.
“You know, Aspen,” Knox leans over Willow toward us, “Steele here is usually the quietest son of a bitch on the team. And then you come along, and he won’t shut up.”
“Is that so?” Chase asks.
Aspen eyes me, then raises her eyebrow at Knox. “He doesn’t seem to have a lot to say at the moment.”
My hand lands on her thigh on instinct.
And as a warning.
She’s wearing a tight black shirt that gives everyone at this table way too good of a look at her cleavage. Her hair is down, her makeup is nonexistent. She’s the type of girl who guys say they want, but then they go for the puck bunnies or the easy lays.
Hell, I’m guilty of that myself.
It’s simpler. Less drama… sometimes. I mean, we all saw what a fucking complication Paris was last year, although Greyson handled that with finesse. He played Paris like a cheap recorder to get Violet to pay attention to him.
Hmm…
Nah.
I slide my hand up Aspen’s leg. It’s easy to feel the way her skin heats through her leggings, and she shifts. Trying to escape me, maybe. But she doesn’t push me away. Even when I inch between her thighs and brush her center through her leggings and panties.
“I have a lot to say,” I finally answer. I stroke the inside of her thigh, missing the mark on purpose. To get a rise out of her. “I just find more creative ways to say it.”
“Do you?” Her voice comes out higher pitched.
“Yep.” I smirk at her.
Her legs open wider.
Naughty thing.
“Like… I’m going to put you in my jersey at the game.” I lean into her side and whisper, “And then I’m going to fuck you in it. Again.”
Chase makes a noise of protest. Or disgust.
Aspen meets my eyes, and her mouth opens.
I grip her thigh and tug her whole chair closer, wrapping my other hand around the back of her neck. And I take advantage of her surprise, pressing my lips to hers. My tongue immediately slips into her mouth.
The kiss goes from shock to filth in an instant.
She moans, and everything in my body goes haywire. Every instinct begs me to go caveman on her, to take her somewhere private and ravish her the way she deserves. But this public kiss will have to do.
And I find myself wondering if it’s going to heal her reputation, too.
Or damage it.
Either way is fine, honestly, because in a year we’re going to be so far away from this place.
Wait.
We?
Never mind that she’ll still have a year of school after I graduate, but I have two options… one, I can lean into the crazy and just fucking go with it. Or two, I can backpedal in my own head, pretend to recover from kissing her like it wasn’t my idea to stick my tongue in her mouth, and then do this whole thing again in a month.
Option one.
I release my grip on the back of her neck, but she doesn’t automatically pull back. Her teeth catch my lower lip, and she tugs. The little bit of pain doubles the urge to maul her right now. Then she sits back entirely, her face turning red.
“We’re together,” I inform her… and the rest of the table.
Her brows lower. “Um, I don’t think—”
“You’re not going to think about it.” My stomach grumbles. I’ve got practice in an hour, and I’m fucking hungry. So I turn back to my food and dig in, ignoring everyone’s looks.
Including Aspen’s.
“When you say together,” Willow starts. “Do you mean…”
“Whatever the fuck together means,” I grit out. My food is getting cold, and Knox was right—I don’t usually talk. I don’t like to draw attention to myself. Can I seem to help it with Aspen around? Nope. “Exclusive. She’s not seeing anyone else. Neither am I. So you can get lost, King.”
Chase snorts. “And miss this show? Nah, I’m good.”
“Steele—”
I round on Aspen. My expression is probably pretty dark, because I feel like I’m gonna lose it. Which I need to not do, and save my crazy for practice. And better yet, harbor more of it for the game.
“Come to practice,” I say quietly.
Confusion mars her expression. “What? Why?”
“Just come.” I lean forward and touch my forehead to hers. “Okay?”
She pauses, then nods. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”
I don’t know why the fuck that fills me with some weird relief, but it does. So I back off and return to my food, and she does the same.
And that’s just fine for now.
