Page 30 of These Wicked Games
Ryker’s brown brows pinch. “What’s that?”
Andre leans in and I flinch back a bit from the close proximity. He smells spicy and sweet, like fresh earth and citrus. “You have to sit next to Kuli. Can’t get worse than that.” He grins.
“Oh, fuck you.” Andre licks his lips, and my eyes trace the action. I hate myself as my mind goes back to the other night, his fingers with that man’s release on his fingertips. The slow way he sucked them. The way I wish it were my—
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“What’s the matter, Kuli?” Andre says softly. “What are you thinking about?” I do not appreciate the husky tone.
“Go back to your fuckin’ seat,” I snarl. Andre’s eyes search mine for a breath-stealing moment before he concedes, choking back whatever he wants to say.
How the hell did I get here?
Walking into the lobby, we all crowd the shared space, lining up to get our room keys. Ryker is ahead, grabbing his, and I’m trying so hard not to focus on Andre who is quite a few people ahead of me. “Careful on those stairs, Kiki,” Andre laughs.
Ryker gives him the finger before going toward the elevator.
I’m drowning in my thoughts, waiting in line for my turn. Our crowd thins out some and I approach the woman smiling at the desk. “Oliver Kulivov. I should be rooming with Ryker Hale.”
She taps away at her keyboard, her blonde brows pinching. “Um, sorry, it says here you’re rooming with Andre Tavares.”
Excusemewhat?“No, I’m sorry, you have that wrong. I’m always with Ryker. Try looking again.” She taps away, but I can see it’s just for show and she’s working up the courage to disappoint me with the truth.
“I’m sorry. You’re rooming with Mr. Tavares.”
Coach fucking hates me. The hockey gods hate me. The devil truly is working overtime. I’m almost flattered with how much attention he seems to be paying me. “Which one of these dickheads made you play this prank on me?”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars to tell me which one.”
“Um, I’m not joking. It says here Andre Tavares and Oliver Kulivov are rooming in two eleven. I can’t show you my computer screen, but I can call a manager.”
“Then get me a different room. Now. I’ll pay whatever I need to. I’ll pay double. I’ll sleep on the fucking roof if I have to.”
“We um, we’re all booked up.” She shrinks a little. “The roof isn’t accessible.”
“Well make it accessible!”
“What the hell is going on?” My jaw clenches, and I turn to see Coach walk up to us. “Why are you harassing this poor woman?” he grits at me, then turns to give her a twinkling smile. “I apologize. Some of my players don’t have manners. I promise you he just looks scary, though. He cries duringThe Princess Journals.”
My head swings to Coach. “It’sThe Princess Diaries!” I grit.
“See.” He winks at her. “Real passionate about it.”
My jaw clenches. “Mia is the people’s princess, and a goddamn gift to the people of Genovia.”
“And he cries every single time.” Coach smiles at her, not looking at me.
“No I don’t!”What the fuck.“She beat her fear of public speaking to step up and be the princess Genovia needed! I can’t do this with you right now.” That movie is a cinematic masterpiece! “They made a mistake. They roomed me with Andre.”
“Ah, I see. You’re right, Oli, the only problem is this.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s not a mistake.” Coach glares. “You’re rooming with Andre. For the rest of the season.”
I’ve clearly gone insane because the words coming out of his mouth do not make sense. “What, the fuck, are you talking about?” I hiss. Coach pulls me aside, apologizing to the concierge. “Why do you hate me, huh? What have I done to you in this life or past lives to make you hate me this much?”
