Page 93 of College Hockey Bully

He’s joking but I’m not too wasted to miss the trace of anger in his tone. Pulling myself up from the stool, I flash him what I hope is a remorseful look. “I’d never intentionally come between you and your girl, you know that. I’m sorry.”

My response only makes it worse, I think, for the anger intensifies, hardening his features. “Do I really know that, Aiden?”

“Huh?” My head draws back with surprise. “I thought that was a given. I’d never do anything to mess with your shit, dude.”

He gives me a long, hard, vicious stare, then shakes his head. “Whatever.”

“No, no, no.” I grab his shoulder as he moves off. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He brushes me off, then pockets my fob, smiling now. “Are we going or not?”

“Cam, if you have something to say, just fucking say it.” I’ve known him long enough to tell that smile is as fake as those boobs sitting on that busty blonde behind him.

“I said, nothing,” he snaps. “Now, come on; let’s get you sober enough to come back for your ride.”

Deciding not to push it—for now, I follow him out the bar. Cameron eases into conversation about the game, then tells me about the antics of the team while they were hanging out at Mickey’s. He gets tight-lipped when I ask him about the girl he met, muttering that he doesn’t want to jinx anything.

“Well, if I haven’t fucked it up already,” he adds.

“Once again, I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs. “Sometimes, that’s not enough to fix things.”

“Look, I can give her a call if you’d like, try to smooth things over—”

“Hell to the fucking no.”He says it with such venom that I’m forced to twist in the seat and gape at him, completely bewildered.

“It’s obvious I’m missing something,” I say. “Spill, Cam.”

After a long, tense beat, he sighs deeply. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

“Like?”

“Like I don’t want to talk about it.” He presses the clicker for his front gate. “Let’s focus on getting something warm in your stomach. Can’t have you suffering from alcohol poisoning or some shit a week before the finals, can we?”

“Dude, I’m barely tipsy,” I point out.

He slams the car door and falls in step with me as we approach his front door. “We both know alcohol has a creeping effect.”

“Touché,” I mumble.

I follow him to his side of the house, where I throw myself on the couch while Cameron empties out his pockets onto the center table. He eyes me while placing my fob down. “Don’t get any ideas and call an Uber,” he warns. “You’re not getting back to that car until you’re good and sober.”

At my blank stare, he swipes it up. “Better yet, let me not leave temptation in your way.”

“I’m not drunk, Cam. Shit,” I grumble as he walks out. Knowing for a fact that I’ll be sleeping here tonight, I take my shoes off and reach for his iPad. The only thing I’m tempted to do is call Scarlett, just to hear her voice. It’s torture, not knowinghow she’s doing. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make the Pierces give me a chance, even if it means living on their doorstep. Yes, I’m that desperate.

And yes, I still feel betrayed by what she did, but I wouldn’t even want my sworn enemy to endure what she’s going through, especially since it all started with me. We might never even be friends, but whatever I can do to help her recover, I will.

Maybe then, only then will it ease the heavy guilt living inside me.

I enter Cameron’s password as I’m about to select the playlist, a message pops up on the screen. Typical Cam, logging into every messenger app on every device he owns. He keeps arguing about the rationale behind that serious risk to his privacy, but I’m not sold—

My index finger pauses mid-swipe. I scan the preview of the message, then open it.

Ryan:I’m done waiting for that money, dipshit. Pay up, or I’ll tell the entire campus what you made me do to that girl.

Puzzled, I scroll up, each flick of my finger delivering stings of shock up and down my spine as I read on.

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