Page 83 of Frozen Hearts
Lifting his hand, I watch in awe as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, humming as he keeps his eyes pinned on mine, portraying the dark pits of desire that burn within them. When he’s licked them clean, he leaves without a word, and I stare after him as he strides down the hall before disappearing through the door back into the club.
Alone, I sag against the wall and ask myself what I’ve just gotten myself in for. Because I don’t believe for one second that that will be the end of this unusual interplay between us.
21
LOGAN
The puck slips between my stick and his, and I growl under my breath as my opponent knocks it away, gaining the upper hand. “Fuck,” I snarl, taking off after him.
Before I can catch up, he passes it to one of his forwards who has a clear shot. The puck goes sailing through the air, the collective audience holding their breaths as the damn thing shoots past our goalie right as the buzzer rings.
“Fuck.” I bang my stick against the boards angrily.
Another fucking loss.
That makes three losses out of the last six games.
The number of games I’ve played sinceher.Since that night Grayson spotted her at Lux and I discovered the girl I was falling for was a twisted, conniving bitch.
While 50:50 might seem okay to most, the fact I’m in no way responsible for our wins makes it unacceptable in my books. I’m supposed to be fucking carrying this team and instead, I may as well be sitting on the goddamn bench.
Head hanging, I skate toward the edge of the rink, however, I can’t help glancing at her empty seat. I shouldn’t even be fucking looking. Shouldn’t be thinking about her, or the fact she should be here.
She shouldn’t be fucking here!
But tell that to my stupid fucking heart who still has a hard-on for the bitch that screwed over my best friend.
A fact I can’t wrap my head around. It still feels like two different people—My Riley and the girl Grayson knew. No matter how hard I try, I can’t reconcile the two of them in my head. I can’t make it make sense. How can the sweet, shy, sensitive girl who has been tutoring me all semester be the same one responsible for destroying an innocent life and ripping apart a family in the process?
More importantly, how could I not have seen it? I believe myself to be a good judge of character. After years of people cozying up to me for their own gain, I’ve become adept at identifying the snakes, but she slipped right beneath my defenses. She slithered her way into my heart and bit down on the juicy muscle, embedding her poisonous venom into the fibers and fucking decimating me.
Grayson’s revelation that night was a shocking blow. It shattered the beautiful illusion I had created in my mind about our relationship. I’d been picturing her at my games, in my jersey. Cuddling up with her in bed afterward. I had images of her five years from now, at my side while we attended Family Day for whatever team I was playing for. On my arm at social events. I pictured coming home to her after away games and it felt so fucking right.
The devastation hits me anew, as it does every time I think of her—which is pretty much every waking moment. Hurt, betrayal, and sadness have become my permanent state of being, and I fucking hate it. I hate feeling this way, but what I despise the most is that, underneath all the heartache and anger, I still fucking miss her. I miss our study dates in the library, watching her face light up when I aced a test. I miss feeling her soft skin beneath my hands and her supple lips on mine. I miss talking to her or seeing her face every day.
I missher.
Which is ridiculous because the person I thought I knew never actually existed.
How fucked up is that?
That’s the real reason why I can’t look her in the face. Because if I go anywhere near her I can’t be sure whether I’ll throw her against the wall and scream at her or kiss her.
It would be too fucking easy to fall head-first into those eyes and never come up for air again.
It has nothing to do with the bullshit excuse I fed her about working at Lux. I couldn’t give a shit about that.
Although, itwasnice to hear she didn’t doextras.The thought of some perv's hands on her. His dick in her mouth…nope, not going there.
Regardless, I actually admire her for having the confidence to get on stage and do what she does. That takes guts—to put yourself on display like that.
You don’t know the courage it takes for me to get up there every night.
No, I don’t. But was that all bullshit to try and get me to talk to her? I no longer know what to believe. If I can trust a single word that comes out of her mouth.
Every time we spoke, she seemed so genuine. She made it impossible not to trust her.
She saw me in a way no one else ever has.
