Page 52 of Sweet Temptation

Hanna's features change to anger as she watches mine. "Seriously?! I didn’t even realise I was doing anything wrong." Her eyes zero in on mine, her lip pulled in a snarl. "You can get all angry over miss communication! But you were practically chewing on my brother's neck this morning!"

Seriously? Is she kidding? We just had this damn conversation, and now she wants to throw it back in my face. The reason I should hate her, the reason I can't stand her brother. Growling, I pull her into the kitchen, away from the boys. "What's your fucking issue!"

"You!" she spits back. "You, because you dropped a bomb on me earlier and then expect me to be okay with everything that happened. Expect me to be okay with it all when I know you're just waiting to push me away, because I'm the enemy, right? We are fucking forbidden, Damon. You're my enemy and I'm yours."

What the fuck? "Yeah, we fucking are. But I'm trying with everything in me to keep you. Because I refuse to lose you. You are fucking mine," I bite out, my teeth practically bared.

Hanna glares at me, pulling out of my grip before she stomps toward the front door. "I was never yours!" she screams, then her tiny legs move so fast I blink and the front door slams. What the fuck! Closing my eyes, I throw the remote at Damien before trailing after her.

"You'd really go there after everything that happened to you?" I yell.

Hanna spins toward me, her eyes blazing with rage. Maybe that was too much. Maybe I should have shut up, but I can't. Not when she just told the entire room she was never mine.

Hanna's eyes narrow as she stares at me. "I'm not a fucking rape victim, you bastard! I'm not yours. You don't need to keep me safe! I have a voice! I can take care of my fucking self!"

"Clearly! Now that I know where you came from!" I snap as my rage boils over. The door to her car swings open as she glares daggers at me.

She does fucking belong to me. "You are fucking mine! Hanna. Mine! But you're definitely acting like a spoiled bitch! Which, apparently, you were the whole time," I bite.

A loud crack sounds across the yard and realisation takes over.

She slapped me. She fucking slapped me.

Growling, I grip her wrist and stare at her, my eyes dark. Hanna glares right back at me, her entire body shuttering with anger as she watches me. "Don't you ever do that again. You won't like the outcome," I growl under my breath.

"What? You'd hit me back!" she whispers. Taking a step away from me, she flinches. She really thinks I'd ever lay a hand on her?

"I would never fucking lay a hand on you," I growl. Even if I should want her dead. I don't.

She stares up at me with bright green angry eyes before she pulls away from me, slides into the car, and speeds out of my driveway.

Leaving me standing on the pavement alone. I tug at my wavy hair. What the fuck did I just do?

TWENTY-NINE

Fluttering my eyes open, I look around my room and let out a frustrated sigh. I did this to myself. I drove her away because I'm an asshole. Growling under my breath, I yank the blankets off me and crawl out of my king-sized bed.

"Hey, Damon. I know this is bad timing, but we have a hockey meeting with the coach," Ace calls through the door.

Bad timing? No, bad century. Closing my eyes briefly, I open them again. Walking to my closet, I yank my suit out and start dressing quickly. Looking in the dresser mirror, I lather some gel in my hand, running it through my dark waves quickly.

Once I open my bedroom door, I head down the stairs into the main area to face my friends, who I've been avoiding for two days since the incident with Hanna. An incident that could have been avoided.

Damien eyes me before he turns to Nate and begins chatting. "Okay, stop with the looks. I'm not going off like a bomb anytime soon," I growl.

Sam nods, shoving his hands into his suit pockets. "Let's get a move on," Ace replies, heading out the door to his Type R. Following closely behind, I slide into the back seat with Sam and Nate.

Gazing out the window, I frown. This entire situation is my fault. I mean, if I would think before I spoke, Hanna would still be in my life. Even though she shouldn't be. If my mother knew about her, she would be dead.

Sighing, I rest my head against the window and stare out, waiting for the car to come to a stop. Once we reach the arena, I practically dive out of the car, hating the silence that filled the car for twenty minutes.

Taking my steps two at a time, I climb the stairs into the video room. When I enter, I notice the entire team is already here except us, seated patiently waiting for the coach, just like the rest of us.

Taking my seat, I shove a hand through my hair, ruffling it a little as I stare around the room. "Okay! Let's get started," the coach announces when he enters the room, closing the door behind him. Tilting my head, I focus all my attention on coach so I can ignore the room around me.

Coach presses play on a video from last season's finals. We did fucking terrible, and we know it. "What did he do wrong here?" Coach asks, looking directly at Sam.

"He wasn't sharing the puck; he was hogging it the entire time he was on the ice," he replies, shoving a hand into his blonde hair.

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