Page 14 of Ice Bet

Sully snapped his head over to Aasher, and tension rose. “Of course not. I would have told Riley.” He squeezed my knee again, but I stared at Aasher as he zeroed in on Sully’s palm on my leg.What is his deal?

Ford stole the attention of the room. “Well, that was a sad story, Duster. But don’t you worry. We will demolish him on the ice. I’ll even cross-check him for you.” He winked, and a soft laugh left me. I smiled and decided that Ford was my favorite, even if my dad thought he was the most annoying on the team.

“Let’s go.” Aasher pushed himself off the far wall while his roommates groaned. He shook his head, clearly irritated with them. “Do you guys really want Riley to go off and tell her dad that we were all in her apartment? Especially after she asked us all to leave? Go.Now.”

The fact that he was deeming me as a little tattletale had me sliding off the edge of the counter. My bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor, and my stomach hollowed. “Despite what you think,” I snapped, choosing to ignore Berkley’s hand around one of my trophies that he had pulled from the shoebox near the door, “I don’t run and tattle to my dad every time something happens.”

Berkley and Efrain made their way across the floor, and soon, all five guys were near the door, ready to escape to their apartment. I thought I was in the clear until one set of eyes shot down to my chest, eyeing myverypronounced nipples from the chill in the air. It probably had to do with Aasher. He was a cold, bossy asshole.

I refused to cover my chest. “UnlikeAasher.”

“What? Unlike Aasher?” Sully repeated.

A deep crease appeared in between Aasher’s eyebrows. There was an instant charge in the air that warmed the chill between us. The room crackled. His steely jaw flexed, and I smiled sweetly.

I knew, without a doubt, that Aasher would be the one on the team who would gladly rat me out. I wasn’t sure if he was just an ass-kisser when it came to my dad, or if he was a leader by choice and took it upon himself to keep his team in check, but either way, his self-righteous personality prompted me to shove it right back in his face.

There was a flicker against his temples, but I stood my ground and stared at him from across my apartment. A small twitch of his lips was more condescending than amused, and it seemed like a warning of sorts. A smile tugged against his mouth as he turned around and shoved his teammates out the door.

Efrain slowly walked behind him and tipped his head at Sutton and me. “Good night, girls. Let us know if you need anything.”

Ford shouted from across the hall, “Yeah, like strong arms to keep you warm at night.”

I watched Aasher shove him through their door, and soon, their laughter faded, and Sutton and I were alone again.

“Those boys.” She shook her hair out before pulling it up into a high pony. “They’re gonna be trouble. But the best ones usually are.”

They weren’tsobad, except for Aasher and his assumptions. The fact that he thought I was going to go off and tell my dad that they came into my apartment uninvited was irking. It could have been worse, though. Living across the hall from the hockey team wasn’t ideal with Aasher goading me every three seconds, but I could still be at Rosewood with a cheating boyfriend and the lingering taste of success on my tongue that only reminded me of my shortcomings.

7

AASHER

Beingon the ice was second nature, but it was like that for most of us. I slipped behind Theo, and eyed each Westin player slowly as a victorious, cheeky grin crept onto my face.Fuckers. Success coursed through my veins when we skated to center ice to celebrate.

It was a rough game, which was expected because it was our first. Practices had been top-notch with minimal mistakes, but when you put a real opponent on the ice for the first time, things were bound to shift. Our team was able to adapt and overcome, though, even with my irritation directed toward Sully. He was a good right wing. I knew when to admit someone’s attributes and when to focus on their bad qualities all the same.

When we were on the ice together, our quiet rivalry was hidden, and that was exactly how it should be if either of us wanted to hit it big with the NHL.

I glanced up at the crowd, and the waving of the black-and-silver jerseys was more gratifying this season than last. We were destined for the Frozen Four this year, and we had some of the strongest hockey players on our team.

After dropping my stick and watching the rest of the team climb over the wall to rush us on the ice, I shouted in our captain’s ear over the roaring, “You’re coming out with us tonight. Don’t even say no, Theo.”

“I always go to parties after games,” he shouted through the back pats. “No need to beg me.”

“No one is begging you,” Emory joked. He inched his head toward the side of the rink, and we followed after him. He mumbled something about puck bunnies, which pulled at my stomach. I was a big fan of rewarding myself after playing a good game, and what better way to do that than with a girl who appreciated your hard work on the ice just as much as the team did.

I hadn’t talked to Liv since the night Riley came stomping into our apartment with hardly any clothes on, and I was still kicking myself for bluntly calling her out, because without any context, like knowing that she was absentmindedly encouraging Sully to achieve the team bet, I acted like the world’s biggest fuck boy. Now, she and I had this quiet cat-and-mouse game going on. She threw jabs at me—when she wasn’t pretending I didn’t exist—and I snapped right back at her. If I happened to pass her on the way to the elevator, or vice versa, I almost always skimmed my gaze down her body to see how revealing her clothes were.

They hadn’t been revealing at all, but I still couldn’t help but stare.

I was optimistic that the bet was a long-lost thought, though I knew it was highly unlikely. Coach’s threat lingered in the back of my head like a grating reminder, and each time he pulled me into his office and asked about Riley—like he couldn’t just pick up the fucking phone—I was reminded of the position he had put me in.

I was a bit resentful.

Theo and Emory’s conversation pulled me back to the present. They were talking about the party, and I was hoping that none of the Westin players decided to stick around and show their faces. They played dirty. Their shit-talking was up to par, and if Coach knew what they were saying, he would have been thrown out of the game.

I thought I had it under control until a familiar voice hit the back of my neck as I rounded the corner of the locker room.

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