Page 4 of Pucking Knox
I know those parties. They're worse than hockey parties – football players have something to prove, especially around pretty rich girls with powerful fathers. Girls like Kennedy.
"Fuck. I can’t fucking babysit. I need to study this or my dad’s gonna have my head," Ace says, shaking his head.
"No." The word comes out sharper than intended. Both of them look at me. "You've got that economics exam tomorrow. Study. I'll handle it."
"Knox..." Ace’s voice carries a warning. "You're supposed to be laying low after that fight. Scouts are already—"
"I'm not going to fight anyone."Probably. "I'll just make sure she gets home safe."
Ace studies me for a long moment. He knows I've been watching out for Kennedy since she started here – partially because she's his sister, partially because... well. Better not to finish that thought.
"Fine," he finally says. "But Knox? She's my fucking sister, so–"
I nod. Like I could forget.
I grab my keys and head out, deliberately not thinking about last night. Not thinking about how she felt pressed against me in that dark room. Not thinking about the way she trembled when I touched her chin. Not thinking about her desperately wanting toget railed, which explains why she’s at this party. The princess is clearly up to no good.
The Sigma Chi house is only a ten minute drive from our place, but it feels longer in the February darkness. Music pulses through the street as I approach, along with the distinct sounds of football players showing off.
I walk in and spot Kennedy immediately.
She's traded last night's black dress for tiny denim shorts and a cropped hockey jersey that I'm pretty sure is Ace’s. Her dark hair is up in a high ponytail, showing off a neck that's begging to be—
Off-limits.
I watch her laugh at something one of the linebackers says, and something in me ticks. There are three of them circling her like sharks, and even from here I can see the excited glint in their eyes.
Sawyer notices me first. I see the moment she recognizes me, the way her eyes widen in warning. But Kennedy's back is to me, and she's too busy playing with fire to notice.
"I love football players," she's saying, voice dripping seduction. "You guys are so much... bigger than hockey players."
That does it.
I cross the space in four strides, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face me. "Time to go."
"Knox!" She tries to wrench away, but I've got seven inches on her. "What are you—"
"Hey man," one of the linebackers steps forward. "She’s having fun."
I turn slowly, letting him see exactly who he's dealing with. Recognition flashes across his face – everyone here knows what happened to the last guy who fought me.
"She," I say carefully, "is leaving."
Kennedy struggles against my grip. "No, I'm not! You can't just—"
"Sawyer." I cut off Kennedy's protests. "Get her stuff. We're going."
To her credit, Sawyer doesn't argue. She just grabs their purses and follows as I half-drag Kennedy toward the door. The linebacker looks like he might object, but his friends pull him back. Smart friends.
"Let go of me!" Kennedy tries to dig her heels in once we're outside. "You're hurting me."
I release her immediately, even though I know I wasn't fucking hurting her. "What the hell are you thinking?"
She rubs her arm dramatically. "God, what is your problem?"
"My problem?" I step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. "My problem is you throwing yourself at guys who could break you in half."
"Maybe I want to be broken."
