Page 85 of Hate To Love You

Ashton plucks one of the cheese fries out of the tray and places it in his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews and moans.

“Delicious,” he drawls, taking his thumb into his mouth and sucking it sensually.

I think it was supposed to have an effect on me, but the only thing it did was make me nauseous.

Why the hell am I here?

Chapter 41

Ryker

My lungs feel like they’re on fire from exertion and the cold air. Now that I’ve been running around for a while, my body has warmed up, and a light sheen of sweat coats my back. My muscles are sore, and I’m pretty sure I may have tweaked my shoulder, but I can’t even focus on the pain right now.

Pat and Holland have been on fire tonight, and as much as I hate to admit it, Ty Manning has been lethal tonight too.

This has definitely been the toughest game of the season, and it’s all because of that jackass Walsh. He’s got his whole team on a fucking war path, and they’re coming for me.

Shaking all other thoughts out of my head, I focus on the play, my eyes locked on the ball as it moves swiftly through the hands of my teammates.

My adrenaline is at an all-time high and I’ve never been more ready to crush an opposing team. I turn to look over my shoulder and see Holland and Pat watching me. I nod, and they look away.

As we begin the play, my coach screams from the sidelines and the crowds screams drown out any other thoughts. When I look back in front of me, I catch a glimpse of a beautiful five four brunette. But she’s not alone.

Fucking Davis has his hand on her arm and my jaw clenches so hard I think it might break. I have never felt so much rage in my body at one time. Not even when I’m dealing with my father. This kind of rage is all consuming. It feels like my heart is going to pound out of my fucking chest and I can’t breathe.

He's touching her. His hand is on her. He threatened her.

The world around me blurs, and the only thing I can see through my tunnel vision is Ashton Davis’s hand on my fucking girl.

My ears are ringing, and the shouts of my teammates grow distant. Gwen finally looks up as if she’s scanning the field, and she finds me, locking her big blue eyes on mine.

“Steele, get your head in the game!” I hear someone yell.

“Watch out!” another voice calls. They sound far away, and I can’t tell who they belong to.

A split second is all it takes. My focus snaps back to the field, but only for a second before a hulking mass of muscle, barrels into me. The impact slams me to the ground and I get the wind knocked out of me.

My eyes squeeze shut and the loud ringing in my ear makes it impossible for me to hear the commotion going on around me. I gasp, trying to get oxygen into my lungs but a sharp pain cuts me off. Fuck, I must have broken a rib.

Pain radiates through my body as I move to my side, clutching my torso. I can’t even open my eyes the pain is so sharp. Coach’s voice comes into focus, and then I feel multiple sets of hands on me.

“Ryker, can you walk?” Coach Shaw asks. I strain to sit up but it’s no use. I shake my head no.

“Alright, son, hold on,” he croons. Shit, this hurts. I’ve been tackled before, it comes with the territory, but never like this. This was deliberate. It had to be Walsh, but it happened so fast I didn’t see what was happening.

I am going to kill that fucker. And when I’m done with him, I’m going to kill Davis too.

“Hold on, Steele. You’re gonna be fine,” I hear Pat’s voice say, much softer than his usual tough guy tone.

His hand lands on my shoulder and gives it a light squeeze.

“We’re all here, dude,” Holland says. He must be on my other side.

“Oh my god, is he okay? Why won’t he get up?” I’d recognize that sing-song voice anywhere. My girl. Gwen. She’s okay. Davis didn’t hurt her.

Relief washes over me, and I let out a big breath of air, forgetting that my ribs feel like they’re searing into all of my organs.

“Ryker, are you okay? They’re getting someone over here. You’ll be alright,” Gwen tells me, her voice laced with worry. I force my eyes open, just so I can see her face.

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