Page 12 of King of Hearts

Shaking away the memory of my reckless decisions, I moved down the hall and into my class. It wasn’t until I slumped into my chair that I realized someone’s stare was burning a hole through the back of my head.

Chapter Six

Hockey wasoff the table until I had time to decide on where to go. Inevitably I would move to play within the same division or a different one—hell, I’d even take on a coaching position at a school—but until then, I was figuring out what else I could do to fill the time. I already had my bachelor’s degree, and until I decided what I wanted to do next, I was aiding professors with their extra work, just wasting time until I figured out my next step. I could lie low and just work at my parents’ restaurant, but the closer I was to them, the likelier it was that I got tangled up with the gang that had claimed my biological father’s life. I knew with a little bit of time, I could probably get picked up by another division team along the east coast or leave this area entirely and try somewhere else. That would likely be my best choice, to just leave the east coast, head west, and start a new life, away from my fucked-up family…and away from having to see Taylor get kissed by other guys.

Holden Winters had held her possessively in the hall earlier and kissed her on the cheek, and I knew he’d fucked her close to the time she would have gotten pregnant. I was way too aware of her life, of her absence, and knew he was probably the dad. For whatever fucking reason, that just dug at me. Maybe because it was him she had said she’d been expecting when we had our kiss, or because she’d acted like it was all just an accident. Either way, I hated the guy, and by extension, I resented Taylor for having his baby.

Walking down the street from my parents’ restaurant, I quickly stopped in at my favorite frozen yogurt shop. There were a few students milling about while I eyed the flavors. I didn’t pay any attention to them until I heard my name being called. As I turned, a muted flash of blonde hair caught my attention, those honey strands I knew so well tied up on a head that was bent over a book. It wasn’t Taylor who’d called my name, but her eyes were on me as Angela came into view.

“Juan, oh my god! Where have you been?” Angela exclaimed, tugging on my arm while her two friends staggered beside her. They’d already grabbed their frozen treats and were likely on their way out of the restaurant, which was good for me. They wouldn’t stay long.

My eyes kept going to the girl two tables behind her who happened to be watching me with an odd expression. It was the same one she’d had at the wedding when she saw me with Angela. Taylor had been watching us, and for whatever reason I’d wanted to know if it would piss her off if I pulled Angela close and kissed her. I wanted to know if that pink flush that had crawled up her neck would increase if I shoved my hand up Angela’s skirt. Taylor, in the end, had given up nothing except a flash of hurt and a few other odd expressions. No words, and certainly no groveling of any kind, asking if I would forgive her for what she had done to me back in the apartment. Maybe I wouldn’t have cared so much if her lips weren’t the ones I had been stuck fantasizing about, or if it weren’t her eyes that I’d subconsciously sought out at every party and rager I had attended last year.

Letting out a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair and thought of how to answer her.

“Busy…with work and school stuff.” Was there no one else who frequented this fucking shop? I looked around, seeing my earlier observation had been all wrong: only three employees in the back on their phones, and just Taylor sitting amongst the tables. It must have been close to ten, so why the hell was Taylor still there?

“I’ve been texting you.” Angela pawed at my shirt, grasping the black material and tugging. She should have gotten the hint or had enough self-respect not to call me again after I ditched her ass in June. I hadn’t even had sex with her that night, yet here she was…begging for more affection.

“Yeah, I saw that.” My eyes flicked back, seeing that Taylor continued watching us. The last time I tried to use Angela against her, it ended with my number being blocked. Call me crazy, but I wasn’t eager to have her kick me out of her life again. Not that I was in her life, but if I wanted to text her right now, I technically could, and that was a good feeling. Only because it meant I could keep an eye on her for Mallory’s sake.

“But you didn’t text me back.” Her brown eyes went wide as she considered what I had implied.

I gave her a half-smile. “I’ve been busy with family stuff.”

She seemed to understand what that meant with a small bob of her head and a downcast look. Thank fuck.

“Okay…well I guess we better get going. Just call me if you want.” She braided her fingers together, looking down while her friends leaned in to whisper to one another.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Okay…yeah.”

I wasn’t sure what else to say; it felt awkward. I didn’t want to cause a scene, but I also didn’t want to encourage her, especially in front of Taylor.

Once Angela was walking out the glass doors, I headed toward the flavors. Once I had grabbed my cup, I paid and walked toward the blonde in the middle of the café.

Dragging back the metal chair, I flipped it around and straddled it.

“Why are you here?” I took a bite of my dessert, my eyes flicking to hers.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and honestly it was how I preferred her. Little strands of hair falling in her face, her blue eyes alert and aware, the small number of freckles she had proudly splattered across her nose on display.

She grabbed the spoon from my carton, pulling up a decent amount before gently pressing the bite of cake-batter-flavored yogurt into her mouth. My dick twitched, watching her pink lips work around the spoon, those blue eyes not giving a single fuck that it was my dessert or that my mouth had already been on it.

“I’m studying,” she finally said, flipping another page of her book.

Sure enough, she had a large history book in front of her, but it didn’t look like a textbook.

“It’s ten at night.” I grabbed my spoon back, taking another bite.

Her eyes scanned the page while her elbows rested on either side of the open book. I took another bite then left the spoon, hoping she’d steal it again.

“Why do you care?”

I tilted my head, watching her intently. Why was she always so fucking difficult?

“Who says I care?” I waited to see if she’d take another bite. For whatever reason, her using my spoon was the equivalent of her agreeing to hold my hand—which I didn’t want, not really. I just wanted to see if she’d do it.

Finally, her hand darted out, grabbing my spoon. She scooped a huge bite before bringing it to her lips then slowly licked the spoon clean. If this was the only foreplay I’d ever get with this woman, I’d fucking take it, but I’d never talk about it with anyone.

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