Page 19 of Face Me Off

I do neither.

Instead, I stand transfixed by this pull he has over me.

“You know, we could have another go if you want.” The back of his fingers brush ever so softly along my jawline and onto my shoulder.

“Another go?” My panties scream yes, please, but I don’t know whether to be disgusted or flattered.

“You know you want to. We could have a friend-with-benefits thing.”

“That’s never going to happen.”

“No?” He leans to where his lips brush against my earlobe. “I can practically smell how wet you are.”

Oh God. If he only knew.

“I bet if I ran my fingers along your sweet cunt, I’d find you dripping wet.” His hand falls from my shoulder and traces a path along my side.

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” I somehow manage to say. Here, I warned Becky when it’s me who should be concerned. Ryan’s working some specialized wizardry because I’m completely bewitched.

“But I’m an arrogant ass who could teach you things.” His fingers curve around my waist and lower back as he pulls me against his rather hard but impressive package. Yep, I’m completely under his spell.

“That,” I pant, “was a one-time thing.”

“Your body’s response says differently.” That fucking dimple of his pops and makes my knees weaken. Or maybe it’s his words. I don’t know. But I’m about to cave when someone calls out his name in the next room and breaks the trance. We step back simultaneously as if burned, but the tension remains, hovering like a ghost in the room.

“Ryan,” the voice calls again, louder this time. He sighs, running another hand through his hair.

“Right. I better…” he starts, gesturing vaguely towards the sound.

“Yeah,” I reply quickly, too quickly. “You probably should.”

Even as he turns to go, his eyes linger on me. There’s an unspoken agreement in that look, an understanding that we’ve crossed a line tonight. A line we can’t uncross.

As he disappears into the crowd, I’m left alone with my thoughts and a quickened pulse. This is crazy. This has to stop.

I have no business getting involved with Ryan Sorenson, his moody gray eyes, and his infuriatingly protective instincts. But then again, has my heart ever listened to reason before?

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out.Amanda.I let out a slow breath. Seeing her name is just the reminder I need to put a pin in whatever inflated between Ryan and me. I type a quick response and go to find my friend.

CHAPTER EIGHT

RYAN

I slump furtherin my chair as I grip the quiz and stare at the red marks slashed across the page like a defender’s stick.Shit.A sixty-five percent. This is bad. No, it’s way worse than that. It’s a career-ending catastrophe.

“Alright, that’s it for today. Remember, next week’s quiz coming up,” Professor Whitman’s teacher assistant calls out as the sound of shuffling papers and zipping backpacks fills the air. “I highly suggest a study partner.”

Fucking fantastic. Another quiz where I won’t know what I’m doing. I may be ineligible to play hockey if I get another low mark. What will I do then? I love the game. With two years left to play, the last thing I want is to be benched because I can’t grasp a simple physics concept.

Frustrated, I glance at Maddy. She stands and shoves books into her backpack, but for once, it’s not her that has me mesmerized. It’s her damn paper that I can’t tear my eyes away from and that glaring mark. What the fuck? She got a freaking one hundred percent. How is that possible?

I mean, she’s smart, no doubt about that, but absolute perfection? There was stuff on the quiz the teacher never wentover, nor was it in the assigned reading. I would know. I read the chapters. Twice.

Tearing my gaze away, I stare at my desk and think. Convincing Maddy to study with me just became a top priority. She obviously relates better to this garbage than I do. But how am I going to convince her? She still doesn’t want anything to do with me. Her body does, but not her brain. That was obvious from the Delta’s party.

And what about me? The smart thing to do is to avoid being alone with her. I have no self-control. That’s another thing I learned from that night. But I couldn’t take all the blame; my body reacted to the biggest set of blue balls that currently resided in my pants. My last release was with her. And as pathetic as it sounds, that’s not even the worst part. I haven’t had sex with anyone else because I didn’t want to lose the memory of how she felt against me.

I bite back a frustrated sigh and shove the quiz and notebook into the backpack. With the deadline for physical therapy applications fast approaching, I need to do something. Otherwise, I not only risk losing my chance at playing hockey but also becoming a physical therapist.

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