Page 16 of Cold As Ice

“Oh, thank God,” Madison sighed.

“You’re still in town?”

“Oh, yeah. Only until tomorrow, though. I have to get back home then.”

“Well, I should probably leave you to your shopping.”

“Yeah.” She glanced at Fawn, who was busy pretending to look at one of the soap displays. Fawn gave her an obvious as fuck head nudge toward me, and I fought a smirk. “Unless you want to hang out tonight?” she blurted.

“Hang out?”

“Yeah, we could get a drink or some food.” Her cheeks flushed. “If you have plans, then it doesn’t—”

“I don’t.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. So where do you want to meet?”

“Same bar as the other night?”

It was discreet. On the edge of town. There was little to no likelihood of running into anyone from or associated with the team, especially since a lot of people had already left for winter break.

And why the fuck was I even entertaining the idea of meeting her again?

But before I could find a way out of it, I had my cell phone out, and we’d exchanged numbers—realnumbers.

Fuck me. Madison had worked some voodoo magic shit on me because it was hard to believe what had just happened.

I’d been so adamant that she was a distraction—one I needed to avoid at all costs. But I also knew how sweet she tasted. The tiny little whimpering noises she made, the way she cried my name when she came.

How could I pass up the chance to get my hands on her again?

The answer was: I couldn’t.

She was only in town for another night. And I had no plans, given that one of my best friends was boning my sister, and my other best friend was laid up in the hospital, his future hanging in the balance.

Damn.

When I put it like that, maybe Madison was exactly the kind of distraction I needed.

* * *

“Austin.” Madison waved me over. She’d already gotten comfortable in a booth at the back of the bar, which was fine by me; the less prying eyes, the better.

I ordered a beer and made my way over.

“You came.” She smiled.

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

Madison gave me a half-shrug. “You did give me a wrong number the first time. Honestly, I didn’t know what to think.”

“I guess I deserve that. But being a Laker isn’t always straightforward. I’ve had to change my number twice since freshman year.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. One of the senior players thought it would be funny to attach my number to a tutoring advert. Once people”—mainly girls—“found out it was me, I was bombarded with calls and texts.”

“So you’re kind of a big deal on campus.”

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