Page 27 of College Hockey Bully

“Close enough,” I mutter, scowling down at the figure taking a selfie on a couch by the poolside.

My best friend laughs. “Oh, come on. Casey’s not that bad.”

“Is she your ex or mine?” I throw that scowl at him. He stares back at me, unaffected.

“It’s a big party.” He spreads his arms. “You don’t have to run into her.”

“You shouldn’t have invited her, dude. Point blank,” I snap, turning away from the view. Besides, there’s no ‘not running’ into Casey. She knows I’m here and it’s only a matter of time until she finds me.

Thanks to my meddling mother, she’s going to want to find me.

Cameron is peering at me closely, his eyes almost like slits. “It’s been a year since you broke up but if I didn’t knowbetter, I’d assume you still have a thing for Casey,” he drawls, throwing his leg over his knee.

I shake my head. “Not even remotely, man. But my mom wants us back together.”

His brows lift. “You sure? I remember how pissed she was when Casey cheated on you.”

Because it reminded Mom of what she was going through. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Why?” he presses.

I shrug. “Beats me.” Cameron doesn’t know about my dad’s constant infidelity and I want to keep it that way.

From Cameron’s scrutinizing stare, I’m not sure he buys my response. He says nothing, just rises from the chair. “I’m going to mingle.”

At my responding nod, he goes off and I wave to the bartender for a drink. It’s my first of many, I’m sure. Ever since Mom revealed that she ‘misspoke’ and told Casey I want her back, I’ve known my ex is just waiting for me to make a move.

Which I won’t do, but knowing Casey, she won’t wait for long. She’s going to make her own move. Turning her down would be easy if I didn’t have Mom’s pleading eyes boring into my mind. She wants to save her marriage by any means necessary, even by pimping out her only child. It’s hard to understand why I pity her on one hand, but the other one is pissed as hell.

I’m not going to be with Casey. What I’m going to do is rescue my mom from this mess. A scout from theNew Jersey Cougarswill be attending our next game coming up in a couple weeks. It’s not theNew York Sabers, but maybe I need to stopputting my eggs in one basket, just focus on making it to the big league.

With my drink in hand, I walk back to the rail, looking down at the party below. From what Cameron told me a few days ago, this should’ve been a Wolves-only affair, but word got out. His parents’ sprawling estate is already packed and there are still people arriving. I’d go crazy if this happened to me. As popular as I am around Hempton, I’ve never hosted a party at my place.

My ex is currently in her element, being the center of attention on the dance floor. Many eyes are trained in her direction as she rocks her body sensually to the beat, her hands thrown in the air, her loose, dark hair bouncing as she moves. Casey is a good dancer; I’ll give her that. It used to turn me on. Now, as she looks up and beckons to me with her finger, I feel nothing at all.

Someone taps my shoulder and I glance behind me to see Damon Samuels, a point guard from the basketball team. We bump fists and he asks for Cameron, to which I shrug. My best friend is nowhere in sight.

As he leaves, I turn back to the party down below and my jaw goes slack.

What. The. Fuck.

The tumbler falls from my hand, the shattering competing not only with the music, but my heartbeat pounding in my ears. What the fuck is Scarlett doing here, dressed likethat?

That dress…Jesus Christ. My heartbeat quickens as my eyes roam from head to toe. The outfit hugs her body like a second skin, accentuating hips that definitely look curvier than in those loose jeans she usually wears. She’s even got more ass than I thought…holy shit. That pair of wedge heels make her strut sexy as fuck. Her thick hair hangs in loose curls aroundher shoulders and down her back, and I’m struck with the sudden urge to grab a handful and suck that red lipstick off her lips.She’s wearing makeup. I’ve never seen Scarlett in anything remotely looking like makeup, not even lip gloss.

Still gaping, I take her in as she tentatively walks along the poolside, her head moving from side to side. She’s looking for someone. Why do I suddenly want that someone to be me?

I swallow, lifting my hand to put the tumbler to my lips, then remember I dropped it. I definitely need another drink.

Who the fuck invited her here?

Heads turn as she walks by, some staring with admiration and for the ones who know her, blatant shock. I’m still feeling remnants of that shock as I approach the private bar. The bartender pours me another round of scotch and by the time I get back to the rail, she has disappeared.

So has Casey.

I almost break into a run, then stop myself. Nobody knows. Not my best friend and definitely not my ex. It’s mere coincidence that they’ve disappeared from sight at the same time, not the possibility that Casey is up to no good.

Yet, something gnaws at my insides. Who invited Scarlett? Why the hell would she come here?

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