Page 27 of Full Tilt
He speaks very low but with purpose. “Back when we were in Lloyd’s, I told you I wasn’t interested. And I wasn’t. I’m still not interested.” He squeezes his eyes shut and then looks at me. “I just need to fuck your brains out.”
I shake my head at him. “You’re talking in riddles.”
Tommy pulls his thumbs from underneath the straps of his backpack, letting both palms slap against his thighs. Over my shoulder, he gazes off into the distance. “Although we can’t stand the ground each other walks on, it’s undeniable there’s this magnetic force pulling us back together, and it’s charged as hell. You want to hate-fuck as much as I do, and you know it.”
He’s right. I’d only be fooling myself if I tried to refute it.
Still, I’d never go there with him. Not after everything that’s gone down andespeciallynot after the incident with Holt. They say to keep your enemies close, but having him in my bed would be taking it way too far.
I glare up at him. “I’d rather become celibate.”
He releases a single puff of air into the small space between us, his brown eyes burning to amber. “Careful what you wish for, Jen. With an attitude like that, I’m betting you’ll die old and lonely too.”
I’m determined not to reveal how deep his callous remark cuts.
“Maybe you should take a hint then. When an aging woman way past her prime won’t even hate-fuck you, I’d probably call time on trying to woo the opposite sex.”
I can tell he loves this. The toxicity feeds him, and I quickly conclude that getting at people, male or female, is how he lives his life.
His sad, pathetic life.
“Oh, I wasn’t planning to woo you.” He laughs darkly. “I was planning to fuck you and then toss you to the side. Think of it as an itch I wanted to scratch. Or a brother I wanted to piss off.”
Fire burns through me, and I’m ready to bite back when he spins back around and stalks off into the crowd, waving a sarcastic, tattooed hand above his head.
“Have a nice life, Hellion.”
CHAPTER NINE
TOMMY
Games against the Scorpions are always heated, but tonight, it wouldn’t matter who the opposition was because I’m on the warpath.
It’s been three days since I saw Jenna at Rise Up, and I’m no calmer, even now.
At this point, I’m not sure who I’m madder at—her for turning me down again when we both know she wants me or at myself for giving in to my need and opening myself up to more of her rejection.
Jenna Miller is the exact reason I don’t give second chances. I barely answer the phone when my mom calls any longer because I don’t believe a word she has to say to me anymore.
People lie, and Jenna is no exception to that rule. She’s lying to herself right now if she can’t feel the burning tension between us each time we’re in the same room.
When Jessie Callaghan—the Scorpions winger—picks up a turnover at center ice, realistically, the only player capable of stopping him is me.
He’s fast and agile, and he has the smartest brain in the game. But while he has all that on his side, I have weight and power on mine.
He tracks my every movement as he bolts toward me, the Scorpions center racing to keep up with him. I chew on the corner of my mouth shield, trying to read which way he’s going to go.
Callaghan has one of the best dekes, but while his center could double as a decoy, he frequently likes to go it alone.
He lives for scoring, and he’s damn good at it too.
In a split second, I call it, making the decision to stand my ground. He’s going solo and taking Archer on himself.
I’m skating backward toward our goal, giving myself time and space to maneuver and adapt as I need.
He isn’t getting past me. We’re one-to-one deep in the third period, and like hell are we suffering another loss. Not on my watch anyway.
The arena crowd is loud, only growing louder as Callaghan edges closer, but all I can hear are his blades as they cut through the ice. Faster, sharper, ready to skip around me at the final second.
