Page 6 of The Players We Hate
“Not your scene?”
I looked up, and he was closer now. Talon. He was still leaning but angled toward me enough to let me know I was the one he was speaking to.
“I’m guessing that’s obvious,” I said, trying to keep my tone even.
He didn’t smile, exactly, but something about his expression softened. “You’re not carrying a jungle juice cup. That’s a dead giveaway.”
I held up my sparkling water. “I like to remember my nights.”
He chuckled once, low and quiet. “Can’t argue with that.”
His gaze drifted down for half a second. Quick yet not invasive. Then it returned to my face as if he was still trying to figure me out. I could tell he recognized me, but couldn’t place when or where.
“You a freshman?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Transfer.”
“From?”
“Kolmont.”
His brows lifted slightly. I guess that caught his attention, but he didn’t press further. He just simply nodded.
“What about you?” I asked, if only to redirect the heat rising in my chest.
He gave a slight shrug. “Been here a while.”
Something about the way he said it, dry and self-aware, made my lips twitch before I could stop them. He was calm in the middle of the party’s chaos. His gaze was fixed on me in a way that made me feel exposed.
“You always hang out in doorways and judge people’s drink choices?” I asked.
This time, he did smile, but it was only a small curve of his lips. “Only when they arrive looking like they wandered out of a different world.”
My stomach flipped.
I wanted to ask where he thought I came from, but then Alisa returned, breathless and buzzing with gossip from the other room.
“Sorry! You okay?” she asked me, eyes darting between Talon and me.
I nodded even though I wasn’t sure that was true.
Talon was already stepping away, back toward the stairs. “Enjoy the party,” he said, disappearing into the crowd before I could think of a response.
I stood there, heart still ticking too fast, the sounds of the house swelling around me again.
Whoever he was, I wasn’t ready for him.
And I didn’t think he was expecting me either.
Chapter Two
Talon
Our game ended on a high note. A blowout win in our preseason scrimmage was exactly how I wanted to set the tone for the year. Every shift clicked. Every shot found the back of the net. We played with grit and fire, like a team desperate to prove something.
In the locker room, our postgame energy buzzed off the walls. Gloves smacked backs. Helmets knocked together in celebration. Coach cracked a rare smile.
It was the kind of performance that got talked about and had scouts looking your way.
