Page 57 of Heartless Game

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he called smoothly.

I stopped, turning back to look at him. He held the frilly maid costume and matching thong in his big, beautiful hands, and I hated how, in that moment, even though I wanted to kill him, a part of me wanted to crawl over to him on my knees, pull out his cock, and suck.

What had he done to my brain?

Was there a cure?

I stormed back toward him, trying to hide the way my hand trembled with want as I grabbed the costume from his hands.

If he wanted a damn maid, he’d get a maid.

But I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

* * *

In my threeand a half years at Reina, I’d only been to the hockey house once—with Aviva. I’d promised myself I’d never go back, but then I’d been breaking all sorts of promises to myself.

I followed Isaac inside, wrapped in my raggedy, worn pea coat. The party had already started, and people were on their way to getting drunk and high, if they weren’t already there.

Everyone was dressed normally, in jeans and t-shirts or cute skirts and skimpy dresses. I’d hoped that this was a costume party and that I wouldn’t stick out, but no such luck. Although his teammates and their friends eyed me curiously, no one said anything.

The only thing that kept me even a little calm was the fact that no one could see what I was wearing underneath.

Until we reached the kitchen, and Isaac held out his hand, that same dark, wicked look in his eyes. I was beginning to loathe that look.

“Why don’t you give me your coat, Tovah? You must be warm,” he said, full Isaac Jones Good Guy charm—and dimples—on display. We were back in public, so the mask was back on.

I hesitated, crossing my arms over my chest. I might pretend I didn’t care what people thought about me, but their judgment still stung. And they were going to judge my outfit, no question.

Isaac apparently didn’t have much patience for me, because he uncrossed my arms and started to remove my jacket, pulling off one sleeve and then the other like I was a petulant child. I felt the warm, recycled air of the house caress my bare skin as he pulled away the wool of my coat and my pretty fucking scandalous, pretty fucking ridiculous costume was revealed.

There was shocked silence, and then laughter broke out. I wanted to disappear.

“Tovah agreed to serve everyone’s drinks tonight. Said she was in the mood to help out the team,” Isaac called out to everyone around us. “She’s going to clean up the mess after, too, so don’t feel like you have to be mindful of where you put things.”

“All the messes? Because these parties tend to get…sticky,” Nick McPherson, a junior and the Kings’ backup left wing joked, and the girls around him giggled.

“She can clean me up if she wants,” Bryan Marks, another junior on the team, added.

One of the girls whispered something to the other. I didn’t have to hear them to know it wasn’t something nice.

Isaac’s gaze went hard. “Make a joke like that again, Marks, and you’re off the team.”

The room got very quiet in the wake of Isaac’s threat. He wasn’t defending me, he was marking his territory, and I was sick of it. Sick of the way he ping-ponged between protecting me and hurting me. I could feel how red my face had turned; my cheeks and neck were hot, and I wanted to hide from all the eyes on me. All their speculation, their taunting, their ridicule…

…but then this wasn’t anything new, was it? I’d been speculated about, taunted, and ridiculed ever since Veronica had started those rumors about me. I hadn’t lied to Isaac when I’d said their opinions of me didn’t matter. All that mattered wasmy own opinion of myself. And maybe there were moments, like now, where that was hard to remember, but it didn’t make it any less true. I was fucking amazing, and if I had to deal with being exposed in some slutty maid costume and try to pretend it didn’t make me think about my mom and all she’d endured and all we’d lost, then I’d deal with it.

Squaring my shoulders and tossing my hair, I glanced around the room, catching people’s gazes, making it clear that not a single one of them intimidated me. When I finally ended on Bryan and Nick, I winked at both of them playfully.

“I can handle a mess or two,” I told them. “The stickier, the better.”

The girls who’d been whispering froze, their eyes widening in shock.

Yeah, I went there, I thought, grimly satisfied.

Raising my voice, I called out, “Guess I’m working tonight. Who needs to beservedfirst?” I made the insinuation as obvious as possible, rewarded when Isaac’s eyes darkened and his jaw got stiff.

“Tovah—” he warned.

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