Page 37 of Beneath the Surface

My cheeks flamed.

He jumped up, and I took a step back. We kept doing that until my back hit the wall and he was right before me.

“Fuck, Ava.”His voice had gone husky.

“Cruz,” I warned.

He sensed my hesitation because the intensity that poured out of him diminished. It was fascinating how he switched his emotions.

“There’s nothing wrong with needing a little TLC,” he teased as he stepped back. “I might have rubbed one out in your downstairs bathroom while you showered.”

“Cruz!” I yelled as I pushed him away from me.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy on display like that…I’m getting hard all over again.”

I ignored him and instead grabbed my backpack and keys.

“If you ever need a hand, a tongue, or a cock, you?—”

As Cruz kept talking, I realized that he came into my house when I knew damn well my dad always locked it after he went to work. What was left of my orgasm glow was about to dissipate with the fear that washed over me.

“How did you get in?” I demanded.

He wasn’t as worried about my security measures. He shrugged off my question.

“I picked the lock.”

Was there no chance of the earth swallowing me? I was so fucked.

22

GRAYSON

Istared down at the meager list of names Cruz and I had gathered between us over the past few days before slamming my locker shut. My teammates were either fucking around or following their usual superstitious pregame routines, and I was pretty sure no one had noticed how on edge I was—or if they had, they probably assumed it was nerves for our upcoming game against Howell U. Our opponents were also chasing the conference title, and we both needed the W. I was the captain, and I should’ve been focused, but here I was, my head very much not in the game.

As I slowly and methodically pulled on my pads and gloves, I bit down on my lip, trying to compose myself. I’d never felt so fucking alone. The biggest and scariest issue was that there was some asshole stalker trying to threaten me. None of the other three people involved in this shitstorm had received targeted threats. Those other three people were…fuck knew if I could even explain it, but they seemed to have some kind of fucking camaraderie or something, while I was left on the outside. I wasn’t sure what, why, or how it had changed, but Ava and Micah had been growing closer by the day, and now apparentlyCruz fucking Martinez had a job at Ava’s dad’s auto shop. And to top it off, there were those new shy, sweet fucking smiles Micah kept slipping Cruz when he thought no one was looking. Smiles that he seemed happy to return.

I ground my teeth, my fists balling, and I forcibly restrained myself from punching my locker. I was here with my teammates. This was my dream. I got to play college hockey, something I could never have dreamed of if I’d remained in the UK,andI got to be the captain of the team. I was lucky. Whatever else happened.

I scrubbed my hand across my face, telling myself to get my shit together, and then jammed my helmet down over my head. I knew Micah would be out there photographing us, but I couldn’t afford to even look his way. Just the sight of him could cause me to unravel, and my focus had to be on hockey. I could finish losing my shit later.

Joining my teammates for our usual pregame pep talk from Coach, I focused on locking down every thought in my mind, leaving only the game. A win was all that mattered.

When I hit the ice, all the white noise disappeared from my brain. There was only my stick, the puck, and my team. My opponents were faceless obstacles to evade and overcome. I breathed in and out deeply, letting the glide of my skates ground me as I moved into position, ready for the game to begin.

My focus remained until I was slammed up against the boards by Howell U’s D-man, the breath knocked from my lungs. My body twisted to the side, and it was then that I caught sight of the figure standing at the edge of the crowd, shadowed by the wall.

Watching me so intently, I could feel it like a physical burn. Heavy, oppressive, threatening.

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

I only caught a glimpse before the whistle blew. Then Howell U’s D-man was being dragged away and Miller was all up in my face, asking if I was okay.

I wasn’t okay. The sight shook me to my fucking core.

The person had a Barracudas jersey over the top of a black hoodie, which was weird enough, but they also had a baseball cap and hood covering their head, and sunglasses over their eyes. If that wasn’t enough, something was covering the lower part of their face. A bandana, maybe?

I spun on the ice, my gaze arrowing straight toward where I’d seen the person.

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