Page 42 of Aftersome
“Okay, so are you ready?” I questioned. “I’m just going to ask you some basic questions like I did with Kyle. Nothing too crazy.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
My eyes caught a flash of a player zooming by behind Vince. They were gone before I could see who it was, so when I was ready and focused, I pressed record.
“Who do we have here with us today?”
“Vincent Kennedy the Third.” He smiled into the camera. Already I knew this video would go viral.
“What position do you play?”
With another cocky-like grin, he answered. “Center.”
“And what’s your go-to meal before a game?”
His mouth twitched.
“Hmm, I’ll have to go with a slice of pepperoni pizza and breadsticks from Al’s Pizza.”
Pizza sounded so good right now.
“Ever been there?” he asked, but in doing so, ruined the video.
Inwardly I sighed and tilted my head to the side in annoyance as I stopped the video.
“No, I have not.”
He grinned.
“Well, if you’re not busy…”
Before Vince could even finish what he was saying, a huge body collided into the glass behind him, causing Vince to jump at least two feet in the air.
“Jesus fuck!” he swore, causing an amused smile to lift on my face, but as my eyes drifted toward the glass, I was met with piercing eyes that were staring me down with an intensity that rocked me to my core.
“Villareal? What the fuck are you doing?” Vince shouted, but Mal barely acknowledged him. Instead he shook his head no in my direction as if he had heard what Vince was going to ask me.
It infuriated me thinking that this was how it was going to be. Him sabotaging every little second I spent with one of his teammates.
It didn’t make sense for him to be so… possessive, but I didn’t expect any less from Mal.
With one last heavy glance at me, he shot Vince a glare before darting off in the opposite direction on the ice, leaving both Vince and I more confused than ever.
“Why the fuck did he do that?”
Because he's an irrationally possessive, protective asshole, that’s why.
15
WREN
Iavoided Mal the rest of the day.
Apparently seeing me talk with his teammates made him a little psychotic. Or maybe it was just my presence in general. After practice, he had stormed off into the locker room, but not before giving me one last glare that had me tensing.
I needed to get him alone. Somewhere away from the Orchids’ facility where maybe I had a chance of getting him to listen.
But, obviously, today wasn’t that day.
