“You don’t know Sadie, it’s all fucking games to her man.”
Every bit of confidence I walked in here with tonight is gone, shredded. I wait for Rhys to pull away, but he only looks at me. Like he wants me to refute the claims, instead of standing here, avoiding his gaze, completely shrunken in on myself.
Normally, I would. I’d love to bite Sean’s head off. But I feel so full of everything, Ineeda release…
“Fine,” Rhy offers, stepping closer to me. His stance is all power, towering over Sean’s too-relaxed form and semi-shielding mine. His hand settles on my waist, slipping around to press against the low of my middle back. “Then she can play them with me. Get the fuck out of here.”
The warmth building in my chest spreads throughout my body, head to toe, my pulse racing. The weighted heat of his palm is searing through the thin silk of my dress.
I want to kiss him, like some school girl who’s had her virtue protected, like he’s some knight in shining armor.
“It’s my house.”
Warm brown eyes go nearly black, fists clenching, and by Sean’s unintentional step backwards, I realize maybe this erratic behavior isn’t normal for the hockey star. I reach for Rhys’ hand quickly, wrapping a hand around his wrist.
“We’re leaving,” I say, with more confidence than I feel, snapping my entire body forward hard enough that it jolts Rhys into me. His hands mold to my middle, keeping me upright and making me hyper aware of how large his palms compare to my waist.
I stop short as Sean shoves past both of us and stomps down the stairs, his angry mumbles barely audible above music so loud the walls shake.
Rhys’ breath flutters against my hair in the opening of the stairwell where I’ve abruptly stopped. “Some kind of warning would be nice next time,babe. Unless you want to sideline me for my last season.”
His use of that little sneered name works like a drug, relaxing every tense muscle through my neck, back and arms. It’s almost ridiculous how much I can tell he’s trying to calm me, when I barely acknowledge my anxiety about it all in the first place.
I snort without meaning to, tilting my head up at him while I snip, “A fall down the stairs would end your entire season? I thought you hockey boys are indestructible.”
It takes only a moment to realize I’ve said something wrong, crossed some unspoken boundary with my words. His face tightens, eyes filling again with that deep well of pain I’ve seen in them, more often than not, before he adjusts his mask and grants me a small, quick smile.
“I need to find my friend.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say.
He nods towards the stairs leading to the thumping party. “Me too.”
But neither of us move.
Something is making me hesitate, keeping my body pressed to his as “The Hills” by the Weeknd starts to blare from downstairs. I should go downstairs, find Rora, go back home and finish myself off. I should…
Spinning, I grab Rhys’ wrist in my hand and pull him again, straight into the still vacant bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. There isn’t much light, just a dusty red glow from the painted bulbs someone had installed for the party. The walls shake with the bass from below, the song bleeding loudly through the cracks around the door as I grab onto the black fabric of his shirt.
“Sadie, I—”
“Yes or no, hotshot.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but my entire brain feels like it’s hanging by a thread, barely sane through the overwhelming thoughts that could’ve been drowned out by someone else’s touch by now.
Rhys looks nearly in pain, his brown eyes dilated, red light flickering over his chiseled handsome face where his sharp jaw stays tight. I watch the thick column of his throat work, only getting hotter with the image of him as he makes his decision.
“I’m only doing this if we talk after.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Sadie.” He tries again, grasping my hair in his hand and holding me still while angling his mouth to my ear. “I don’t do this… party bathroom hookups? That’s not…”
The rejection stings, and I jerk out of his hold, ignoring the slight pain of my scalp as I wrench my head from his grasp. “But locker rooms are perfectly fine? As long as it’s to soothe your shit, not mine, yeah?”
It doesn’t register what I’ve said, what I’ve revealed, until I’m reaching for the doorknob, desperate to escape.
THIRTEEN
RHYS
For once, I’m not thinking. Not as I blindly followed her upstairs. Not as I let her lead me into an empty bathroom. Not now, as I grab at her shoulder to stop her from leaving and spin her, easily pinning her small body against the door.