Page 45 of Wicked Games

I lean down. “I’d hate for her to pick wrong and be punished for it.”

“Punished,” she echoes.

“Hmm.” I smirk. “And we’d tie it right back to you.”

She thinks that over, then finally nods.

I point to the second coffee cup in the holder. “Is that for her?”

Riley grits her teeth. The window comes down farther, and she hands it to me. “You’re kind of an asshole, Asher.”

“Right back atcha, Appleton.”

She scowls. I step back, waving my free hand, and she pulls slowly away.

Just in time—a moment later, the front door of the Bryans’ house opens, and out comes Margo Wolfe. She’s in the process of putting her coat on, her bag slung over one shoulder. Her dark hair is loose, and she trots down the steps. Her makeup is more subtle today, less like a warrior headed into battle, more like…

A beautiful girl.

Don’t get me wrong—she’s gorgeous whether she’s fresh-faced or layered with makeup armor.

When she sees me, she stops mid-stride.

“Good morning, baby.” I meet her halfway, lifting her bag from her shoulder.

She lets me take it, although her expression is wary. She’s stiffer than I was at my uncle’s house, which should say something. I’m not about to beat her.

Even hoisting her bag up has my muscles pulling, and I barely manage to keep my expression stoic. My uncle’s warnings ring in my ear with every step back to the car.

“Is that for me?” Her voice is breathy.

I glance down at the coffee in my hand, ignoring my body’s immediate reaction to her. I need that voice whispered in my ear when I’m deep inside her.

“Yes.” I hand it over.

She smiles.

A true one.

I put my hand on the small of her back, ushering her around and into the passenger seat. Her bag joins mine behind me. My hockey bag is in the trunk, along with my stick and skates. I’ve got exactly zero expectation that I’ll be doing anything except conditioning today… like the week prior.

Coach holds grudges.

I glance at Margo, considering. Would she tell me about her mom? If she heard from her? I’m not too sure Amber would reach out. There’s some bad blood there, even if Margo is unaware. But it seems like Amber is in town, and now she wants to talk to her ex-husband?

I heave a sigh. My mother said she’ll take care of it… I’ve got to trust her. But if she fails, then it’s going to fall back on me.

Just focus on Margo.

“Did you sleep well, baby?”

Confession: I nearly came in my pants. It was all I could do to hold off until after she came, then release my tension by jerking myself off in front of her. Her gaze on me… I can’t beat that rush.

Walking out of that room… I could’ve easily stayed there.

Her birthday is coming up soon. Eighteen ticks closer every fucking second, and I know it’s weighing on her. Thatsnapof a cord breaking, the foster system suddenly relinquishing its control over her…

What will she do?

---