Page 43 of Ice Bet

There was no way he was going to let me leave with anyone else.

My lips rolled as I stared down at his large frame lying perfectly still without any blankets covering his bare chest. The only thing he wore was a pair of comfy-looking lounge shorts with drawstrings outlining a very defined bulge against charcoal-colored fabric.

The night was a vague memory, and my eyes felt puffy against my shaky fingers.Shit, I cried last night.Mortification burned my cheeks, and I quickly crawled over his bed and scooped up my clothes, being as quiet as possible.

I was doing the ol’ dash-and-pass that Mya and I used to do our freshman year before I’d started dating Gray. Except, this time, I was leaving with my dignity intact.

If anyone caught me leaving the hockey players’ apartment looking likethis, it would be bad. I was sneaking out of one of my father’s player’s rooms with his shirt on and my hair a mess.God.

I stole some toothpaste out of Aasher’s bathroom and used my finger to brush my teeth. I used the leftover Gatorade to erase the gross taste out of my mouth, but I was still a wreck. I tiptoed out of the bathroom and grabbed the doorknob, thankful he hadn’t woken up.

“Nope.”

I jumped and flung around, slamming my back against Aasher’s closed door. He jumped up from the floor, and it only took seconds until his weighty air surrounded me. “Do not go out there dressed like that.”

His raspy growl pulled my mouth closed. I swallowed and pressed further onto the door, wishing I could somehow push myself through it.

Per usual, being this close to Aasher made me feelthings I wasn’t used to, so I tilted my chin and acted like I had the upper hand in the situation, even though we both knew I didn’t. “Afraid it’ll get back to your coach, and he’ll think you did more than shove me into a pantry and kiss me?”

Aasher’s entire face hardened, and I regretted bringing up the kiss.I should have pretended it didn’t happen.But it did, and I remembered very clearly how it felt to be kissed by him.

“Why did you transfer to Bexley U?”

I swallowed the taste of his minty toothpaste, and my cool breaths came out like crashing waves against a tide. One of Aasher’s hands gripped my chin, and he forced me to look at him. I didn’t like what I saw staring back at me. His mossy eyes caressed every curve of my face, as if he were trying to figure out an equation, and I prayed that he didn’t figure me out.

“It’s none of your business,” I whispered, trying to turn away so he would stop looking at me.

He gripped my chin tighter and kept me in place. “If you’re on the figure skating team, why haven’t I seen you skate?”

The room cracked like we were in a glass house.Of course he heard the conversation between Gianna and me.

“Why do you just stand there late at night and stare at the rink instead of skating?”

My chin wobbled, but I tried to act angry. “I’m leaving.”

I attempted to pull away, but he shook his head at me and kept a hold of my chin. “Not dressed like that.” He dropped his hand from my face, but it fell to the hem of his T-shirt. He fingered the threads and tugged on it gently while raising his eyebrow.

“Fine,” I said, pushing on his chest. I walked over to his bed and spun around in a fury of desperate anger, hating that he was trying to uncover shit that wasn’t his concern. I wanted to get back at him, so I smirked before ripping his shirt off my body. His jaw slacked with surprise.

“God damn it, Riley!” he cursed. “You’re such a brat.”

He put his back to me quickly, and I peeled my eyes away from his flickering muscles. After I was fully dressed in my clothes from the night before, I dropped his T-shirt at his feet and waited for him to move out of my way.

I jumped when he snapped to attention. I braced myself for the battle we were about to find ourselves in, but I knew my armor wasn’t nearly as tough as it should have been.

“Is it because you fell?”

My blood turned to ice, and the air through my nose was just as cold. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.How does he know about the fall?I mean, the figure skating community knew about it, and students at Rosewood did too. But Aasher? The guy who thought of hockey and nothing else except for the occasional puck bunny?

“Is that why you’re here?” He leaned his shoulder against the door and waited for me to answer.

I took a step back and shut my eyes, frustrated that they were growing blurry.

Keep it together.

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d cried since my fall, but leave it to Aasher Matthews to push me over the edge and make me bend with one little question.

“It’s none—”

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