Page 13 of One Touch

This time, he grabbed my other wrist in a gentle hold. “Wait.” He swallowed. “I did that?”

I gritted my teeth but didn’t answer. I cradled my wrist against my chest and bit back the pain his grip had activated. It was throbbing, but if I iced it, it should be fine.

His jaw twitched, and he took a deep breath before releasing my other wrist. “You didn’t show up at my place.”

“I told you I didn’t need any favors. Now, is that all?”

His eyes glanced down to my wrist briefly before returning. “I don’t like being ignored, Bambi. You will return to my apartment after our road game. Disobey me again, and you won’t like the consequences.”

I chuckled, the sound dark and foreboding even to my own ears. “All right, Daddy. Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes and stalked off. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I got an ice pack from the back and stowed away my bag.

“What was that about?” Bell asked.

“Beats me.” I shrugged and hoped he’d drop it.

He did not.

He chuckled. “He’s giving the loudest ‘fuck me’ eyes I’ve ever seen.”

I snorted. “You’re mistaken. Lathan’s not gay, and he hates me. He’s just trying not to piss off his brother. That’s all.”

“If you say so. But some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had was hate sex, and you don’t have to be gay to like dick.” He lifted his eyebrow, and I sighed. He was right, but there was no way Lathan Silver wanted me, at least not sexually.

I might be a late bloomer, but even I could tell the difference between want and hate, and that man hated me so much he wouldn’t even spit on me if I was on fire.

No, I needed to stay away from him. We weren’t friends. We were barely teammates.

Lathan and I were enemies, plain and simple.

CHAPTER6

LATHAN

We were midwaythrough the second period of our first game. I should be worrying about the game and how best to get the puck into the net. Instead, my entire focus was on a six-foot-four sunshiny asshole. Fuck.

Though, based on the scowls he sent my way, his happy-go-lucky nature no longer extended to me. Good. He needed to toughen up. Life would eat him whole otherwise. Not that I cared what life did to him. I didn’t care about other people. Especially him.

I just had a promise to uphold, and I took my promises seriously. It had nothing to do with thoughts of him consuming me. In fact, I was sick of that. I needed to fulfill my part so they would go away. He needed to move in and out of whatever hovel he currently resided in and away from Toby and Bell. They would distract him. That was the only reason I cared.

Once I got my way, my focus would return to hockey, and everything would go back to my status quo. I needed my equilibrium back. So, if he wouldn’t listen to reason, I’d take matters into my own hands. At the thought, a smile broke free before I could contain it.

“Shit, that’s scary,” Samson muttered.

“What?” I asked, my smile dropping when I noticed Bell and Miller huddled together on the bench.

“You smiled. I’ve never seen you smile unless it involved a goal. You okay?” He placed his hand on my forehead, and I jerked away.

“I’m fine. Don’t touch me.” He held up his hands in surrender and frowned.

“Okay, if you’re not sick, what’s with the smile? And why do I have a feeling it’s not a good smile?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh. You’re scary when you’re happy.”

“Not happy. Just plotting how to get my way.”

“I feel for whoever is standing in your way.”

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