Page 97 of The Substitute
“Then why are you throwing a tantrum?” Ambrose winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “I didn’t mean it like?—”
“Fuck off!” I shove at his chest, cutting him off, but his reflexes are much better than mine, so I end up with my hands pinned and Ambrose in my face, pressed against my body.
“I know you’re carrying a lot of hurt, but I don’t think what you’re doing is going to help.”
I don’t want to tell him he’s right. “He’s taken everything from me.”
“Is it even anything you want anymore?” His words hit me and sink into my chest. “He can’t take someone who is yours. The right person for you won’t give him a second glance.”
I close my eyes fighting tears. “I don’t want him anymore.”
“You are so much more amazing than you give yourself credit for. I’m sorry no one has proved that to you yet.” Ambrose slips his thigh between mine to drag it over my cock while pressing his hard-on into my hip. Blood surges to my cock so quickly, I gasp.“Is that it? You need to be reminded that I still want you?”
My face heats, and a pathetic whimper passes through my lips.
“Yes.” The word is barely more than a breath, but he hears it and allows me to take his mouth in a hungry kiss. I need the connection. The proof that I’m still wanted. That him being here as my roommate isn’t about being embarrassed by me.
He drags his mouth to my jaw, then bites gently at my neck.
“Mark me, please,” I groan.
Ambrose pulls back, the frown lines between his eyebrows deep grooves. “Mark you? I can’t, and why do you want me to? Are you trying to make him jealous?”
“What?” Jealous? Who?
“I’m here as your roommate. If you leave this room with hickies, everyone will know it’s more than that, and the only reason you’d want them is for someone else to see them.”
My mind screeches to a halt.
“What are you talking about?”
Ambrose takes a step back, releasing me so my hands fall to my sides. “I’m not an idiot. You’re still in love with Rhys, aren't you?”
It’s not a question anymore.Am I still in love with Rhys?I don’t think so. I’m angry. Hurt. I gained more insecurities that I didn’t need. But if he asked me right now today if I wanted to be with him, the answer would be no.
“I won’t be a substitute for someone else.” Ambrose shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m not going to out myself and possibly ruin my chances at a career in the NHL to make someone jealous.” He shakes his head, cool, calm, and collected while he’s toppling my world.
Fucking hockey players.
“Why are you here? Why did you agree to come with me?”
“I wanted to support you. I’ve seen how hard this has been for you. I thought I was being a friend.”
“We’re just friends?” My lip trembles as I force the words out.
“I don’t know what we are.”
I suck in a deep breath before I speak. “This is how it’s always going to be, isn’t it? It’s fine to want me in the dark, behind closed doors, but not where anyone can see you.”
“I’m trying to make it to the pros?—”
“No one in this house is going to judge you or out you.”
“I can’t take that risk. I don’t have that privilege,” Ambrose snaps, running his hand through his hair and pacing a few steps away from me before coming back. “You don’t seem to realize what I’m up against.”
“This is one of the big reasons I don’t fuck with hockey players.”
Ambrose freezes three steps away from me and turns slowly to face me. “You think Savage would be any different here?”
