Page 36 of Replay
I glance at her, taking in the way her lips are firm, but the hint of interest in her eyes is clear. I have no reason to lie and I do hope Jax does move on and that he learns a lesson about cheating. “Yup,” I tell her, moving the puck in front of me with my stick. “We ended things amicably. It's not like you need my permission to date him or anything.”
She stiffens and there’s a flash in her eyes. “Like I would even ask. I heard what happened, but a couple of the freshman girls over there have been eyeing him up and he’s not been turning down their advances.”
I wait for the pain or for something in her words to hurt me, but nothing does. All I feel is a tinge of sadness, hoping that Jax isn’t hurting. “He’s free to do what he wants.”
She nods with me and we move up in line. Megan, another of my teammates, glances over at us and unlike Sophia, she almost glares at me with open hostility. “I can’t believe you let a fine specimen like Jax go in the first place. The amount of girls on this team alone who would give their right tit to be with him is insane.”
“Not the left one though?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. I don’t need anyone putting me down for a decision I made. And yes, Jax is good looking and he’s fun, but in the end, he wasn’t the best boyfriend to me.
“Seriously, Emma, you should be lucky Jax looked at you in the first place. He’s practically royalty around here and there's talk about him going into the NHL someday,” Megan laughs.
“She doesn’t have to worry about that, Meg, Emma has her eye on the new king of campus. Hawke Sheppard has a greater likelihood of going pro in the NFL.” Carson, our team goalie, strides forward, her words instantly setting me on edge.
“Well fuck, I’d let either one do unspeakable things to me.” One of the freshman girls fake moans while elbowing her friend. “Seriously, Emma, when are you going to share your boytoys?”
“Jax is a free man,” her little friend next to hers adds in, her smile growing in intensity. “And if Emma isn’t serious with Hawke then I call dibs. That man is hot.” She pretends to fan herself.
The hairs on my neck prickle and white-hot jealousy courses through my veins. I don’t want any of the girls on my team or the entire campus to be with Hawke, suddenly realizing how much more painful that would be for me to see than seeing Jax with someone else. That should have been my first hint that fighting my feelings for Hawke was a losing battle. Now, listening to the exchange that is taking place right in front of me feels surreal and the only remark that I’m really hanging onto is the accusation that I’m holding onto Hawke because of his chances to be drafted.
“I don’t need a man to have a secure future.” I stand a little taller on my skates, pushing off the boards and facing Carson. I’ve never had issues with her before, but I can’t let this slide. Those dark and possessive thoughts about Hawke float to the surface after being awakened last night. He etched me into his skin and wants everyone to know about it. I’m the one holding back, nervous about these types of conversations with my teammates and other girls. Only it isn’t embarrassment or pain I am feeling. I want to claim Hawke back, prove we aren’t a passing phase, until we become inseparable. It’s just like when we were teens, young and in love, only this time there is a deeper, darker edge to these feelings. Something that was bornout of heartache that makes us both unable to be without the other. I know now that I want Hawke just as badly as he wants me.
“And I’m with Hawke, not because of how well he throws a football.”
Isla inches toward me slowly, her eyes shifting between me and the girls I am calling out. Carson moves closer, getting in my face.
“What the hell is your problem–”
“Hey!” Riley’s voice breaks through the tension and everyone stops. My bestie has a way of being scary and intimidating when she needs to be, which is why she was always a captain of our teams growing up.
“Goalie, take a break on the blue line. Everyone else, can we focus on our game with Ohio? We’re here to win, not discuss the dick size of Sheppard or Kellan. That's both disrespectful and gross.” Her face twists up, but her words have the desired effect. Everyone disperses and our coach is forced to call a break before a new set of drills starts.
“Reign it not going to like that she mentioned another man’s private parts,” Isla jokes next to me and Sam hears, almost doubling over with laughter.
“I want to tell him!” She raises her hand and I roll my eyes before skating over to the bench.
The rest of practice goes smoothly, but I’m still feeling on edge. I staked my claim and now the girls on my team know Hawke is off-limits. I should feel shame or some sense of disappointment in myself yet all I feel is a territorial need to let the female population on campus know. Hawke has corrupted me in his weeks of being here, claiming I’m his, and forcing me to recognize what I’ve always known. We claimed each other a long time ago. Time and distance don’t seem to have mattered. I can keep my walls up, take things as slow as I want to, learnto trust him again, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting this with him.
I’m the first off the ice and my shower is quick. Before long, I’m throwing on my track pants and a hooded sweatshirt. Taking my bag, I rush through the arena doors and outside, my eyes instantly snagging on Hawke, who’s waiting for me. He’s always waiting. I watch as concern flares over his features, probably because I look like a mess and like I’ve been searching for him. That concern starts to turn to confusion as I stalk toward him, which makes my lips twitch up in a smile. With zero regard for his teammates, my own teammates or anyone else in the area around the arena and field house, I launch myself at Hawke. He catches me easily, like he’s been doing it all his life, his arms wrapping around me, holding me in place while my legs wrap around his waist. My hands frame his face before crushing my lips against his.
I feel the way his hands grip me tighter, the way he inhales into the kiss, and the way his body turns heated against mine. I can feel Hawke everywhere.
“You’re never getting away from me again,” he breathes against my lips, and my eyes open, meeting his heated gaze.
“Promise?”
“It’s a fucking guarantee, sweetness,” he growls and I feel it in my core where I’m pressed against him.
Hawke marches toward his truck, keeping my body anchored to his, refusing to let me down. I can feel the staring eyes, hear the catcalls and whistles, but all I care about is what happens next. He wastes no time getting me in the truck before racing around to his side and driving us out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” I turn to him, and he takes my right hand in his, pulling it toward him, the other firmly on the wheel.
“My place,” he answers before placing a kiss on the inside of my wrist. Something I’m starting to learn that he does often.
Hawke glances at me, gauging my reaction. “Okay,” I finally manage to say, and he squeezes my hand in return. My eyes fall to my lap where our hands rest and see the tattoos again. My insides turn warm seeing them again and my fingers run over the black ink.
“Sugar, you’re making it hard for me to concentrate,” he groans and I laugh in return. My single touch of him, on something with so much meaning, has him almost sounding feral.
The tires on Hawke’s truck squeal as he turns into the parking lot, and my seat belt tightens slightly when he shifts into park before turning the engine off. A second later his seat belt is off and he’s out of the truck, heading to my side. My door flings open and he reaches for me. I go willingly into his arms again, wrapping mine around his shoulders, holding on while he carries me across the parking lot to the front doors.
