Page 10 of The Players We Hate
This night wasn’t supposed to go this way.
I dried my hands on the neatly folded towel, glanced around the space once more, and slowly unlocked the door.
I stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing the front of my blouse. Talon was leaning against his desk, arms folded across his chest, and my cheeks were warm the moment our eyes met.
A bottle of vodka sat on the dresser beside him. He caught me looking and tilted his gaze back to mine.
“You want a shot before we head back down?”
Without thinking, I nodded. My fingers brushed his as he passed me the bottle.
I twisted off the cap and took a swig. The burn hit instantly, sharp enough to make me cough, but it faded as quickly, replaced by a slow heat curling through my chest and warming my skin from the inside out.
He glanced up from his spot, the desk lamp throwing shadows across his dark eyes. “Feeling better?
I nodded, took another quick swig, then twisted the cap back into place. “A little.” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, mostly to give my hands something to do. “I’m… not much of a drinker.”
I glanced down at the bottle still gripped in my hand, the clear liquid swirling near the bottom, tempting me to finish it off.
“This is my first real college party.”
He watched me carefully. “First party,” he repeated. “Like first… ever?”
“Not ever,” I said quickly, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. “I’ve been to things before. Galas, campaign fundraisers, black-tie events. You know, the ones where everyone smiles too wide and talks in circles.”
A dry laugh slipped out before I could stop it. I took a step away and bumped into the end of Talon’s bed. Straightening, I was suddenly aware of where I was, the air feeling heavier somehow. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, the restless energy zipping through me.
“Nothing like this, though,” I admitted. “Not with red Solo cups and thumping bass and hockey players everywhere.”
Talon didn’t laugh. He nodded slowly, as if filing that away because it meant something.
The nerves got to me, and before I could overthink it, I twisted the cap again and finished the rest of the bottle. I didn’t know what had come over me. Maybe it was him. Perhaps it was the way he watched me, waiting for proof I wasn’t as uptight as he thought I was.
His jaw ticked, and there was something in his expression I couldn’t quite name—protectiveness, maybe, or something rougher simmering underneath. He pushed off the desk and crossed the room in two long strides.
My breath caught when he stopped in front of me. So damn close he was towering over me, all heat and stillness, carrying the scent of mint, clean linen, and something I couldn’t place but made my stomach flip.
“You look different tonight,” he murmured.
I blinked up at him. “Different?”
“Not like the polished version of you I’ve seen in the headlines,” he said. “Not the version dressed for a stage you didn’t choose.”
His words landed with more weight than I expected. My chest tightened, not from panic but from something deeper.
“I feel different,” I whispered. “Out of my element, maybe? I’m not sure who I am right now.”
His eyes searched mine, and then slowly, he lifted a hand and traced a line from my shoulder to my elbow, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of my sleeve. My skin tingled beneath it.
“Do you like being out of your element?”
I swallowed hard. The truth? I was terrified. The only thing keeping me tethered to this moment was him and the heat in his eyes. “I… I’m not sure yet.”
He took another step closer. I felt his breath ghost across my cheek, and suddenly, the silence between us was louder than the music we left behind. My heart hammered against my ribs, desperate to break free.
I didn’t even reallyknowhim. Not beyond a few looks, a few smart remarks, the kind of easy confidence that made it impossible to ignore him in a crowded room.
I’d always played it safe, always worried about what people would say, about what happened after. But right now, with him this close, I didn’t care about consequences. I wanted to know what it was like to stop thinking for once. To do something reckless, even if it only lasted a night.
