new asshole in the locker room. Yelling about in-fighting being the death of a team. We all know he’s right but is that going to stop a bunch of testosterone-fueled jocks from jumping down each other’s throats? Not a chance.
I get my gear off and put away in the locker room, down to just my base layer of black Under Armour long sleeve shirt and leggings. It’s like a second sweaty skin that I can’t wait to take off.
Once Coach is done reaming us, I grab my gym bag and head into the hallway toward the school gym. I’ll change in there.
I’ve made it only a few steps away from the locker room before someone grabs my arm. Spinning around, I grab them and shove them against the wall, my gym bag falling to the floor before I realize who it is.
Jeremy’s blue-brown eyes stare up at me in the dim light of the empty hallway.
“You really do like it rough, don’t you?” He smirks up at me with a knowing look. Like he can see inside my head, roll around in my secrets. I’m not sure why that’s enticing.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl in his face, almost close enough to kiss him. Jeremy’s eyes drop to my lips, and he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, letting his teeth drag along the plump flesh as he releases it.
I fucking hate him and his kissable fucking mouth.
“I’m testing a theory,” Jeremy says as his hands land softly on my hips. My instincts kick in and I grab his hands, lifting them to the wall, and lean into him.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” My words are ground out through gritted teeth.
Before I can think to move, Jeremy lifts his mouth to mine and he kisses me. My fingers dig into his flesh as the sensation of his lips on mine explodes through me. For the first time in my life, my head is quiet. With butterflies rioting in my stomach, blood thrumming through my veins, and my dick taking notice of how close this guy is to me. He groans when I change the angle of the kiss, forcing his mouth open until I can claim it and him.
Jeremy grinds his dick against mine, the slick material of our base layers making it entirely too easy to move. I moan into his mouth as arousal hums along my skin.
I get lost in his kiss, in the nearness of him, and let my body collide with his, my chest to his and my hands releasing his arms to tangle in the long strands of his dark blonde hair. Jeremy wraps his hands around my wrists, his nails leaving half-moon imprints in my skin.
I’m so consumed by the feel of this guy against me, of the human contact, that it takes me a second to realize there are voices coming toward us.
In a moment of panic, I rip my lips from Jeremy’s, pull my fist back, and punch him in the face.
“What the fuck!?” he yells, cupping his eye and turning his body away from me.
Fuck.
If my father hears about this, I’m fucked. I’ll be called home for correction. God damn it.
My fear freezes me to the spot. I can’t move or think.
Jeremy looks up at me and whatever he sees on my face has him jumping into action. He grabs my shirt and shoves me back a few steps until I hit the rough brick of the hallway.
“You’re an asshole! Stop riding my ass!” Jeremy yells at me but it sounds far away. Running feet echo in the hallway, closer and closer to us. I shove him off me, breathing hard and lost in my head.
Father is going to make me pay for this.
I’ll get more than one cut, in a painful location. I won’t be able to sleep for days, no food, dehydration.
Worthless.
Useless.
Disgrace.
“Hey!” a male voice yells.
I bolt before they can touch me. Away from Jeremy, away from human touch and the desire for more.
For the first time in years, the urge to cry knots my throat, making it painful to breathe. The air in my lungs is moving too fast, my chest heaving as I find an exit and run as fast as I can outside into the fresh air. The concrete is rough and unforgiving on my bare feet but it’s nothing less than I deserve.
I don’t know where I’m going, I just run. Away from Jeremy, away from the rink, away from everything that’s consumed my life since I was child.
Maybe if I run far enough, fast enough, I can outrun my thoughts.
You. Hit. Him.
Unprovoked.
Father is going to drag you back for this.
My muscles seize at the very thought, making me stumble and fall to my hands and knees. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, I’ve been conditioned to fear what my father can and will do to me. The scrape against my palms and the pain in my knees brings me back to where I am. To now. I breathe for a second before getting up and continuing.
The concrete rips at my feet with every pounding step, jagged rocks digging into the soft part of my arches, but I don’t stop. Mind over matter. Push through the pain. Show no weakness.
I find the path that leads around campus and force my feet to keep moving. It’s about four miles in total and exactly what I need right now. Hills and flat sections, tree covered paved pathways, and packed dirt roads in other parts. It’s not an easy run by any means, but it will do what I need it to.
