Page 79 of Brutal Obsession

Willow makes another noise in the back of her throat, and that’s the only warning I get before Greyson looms over us.

Miles scrambles out of the way.

Greyson grabs the front of Steele’s shirt and lifts him. He doesn’t so much as look at me as he drags his housemate toward the front of the bus. He throws him into a seat and marches back to me. His knee comes down on the edge of my seat, and he leans over me.

“Stop playing games,” he hisses.

I meet his gaze.

Somehow, that got under his skin worse than anything else. I shift forward, until we’re nearly nose to nose. “You don’t fucking own me.”

He smiles. “No?”

“No.”

“We’ll see about that.” He straightens and backs away.

Just in time for Coach to come barreling down the tight aisle, stopping just before he crashes into Greyson.

“Get back to your seat, Devereux,” he snaps. His attention sweeps over us, his face scrunching in disgust. “Fucking party bus. Andyou.” He glares at me. “You should know better.”

I’m so surprised, I can’t say anything. Not until he’s turned around and made his way back to the front. He sinks into his seat, and I let out a slow, shaky breath.

What the fuck was that?

Willow makes a face. “And here I thought we could ride under the radar.”

“Hate to break it to you, but that was never going to happen.”

25

GREYSON

I’m supposed to be preparing for the game. Mentally. The team we’re facing is undefeated, which is already a setback. They’re coming in confident. If their coach has done their job, the team won’t be arrogant. They won’t make shit plays. Of course, we’ll be on the lookout for weak spots.

We spent the week reviewing tapes, both of our previous games and theirs. Hunting for holes in their armor.

This game is important. Coach warned us at the start of the season thatthispoint in our season, if we played smart, would make or break us. And he’s right. We’re two wins away from qualifying for the national tournament. Two games left to play. If we lose, we’re out.

Then the real battle would begin.

Even if we do make it into the tournament, we’ll have to face this team again. The Knights have more funding and a larger school than us. They’re monsters. Who knew this little Vermont town would be so crazy about hockey?

But instead of mentally preparing, I’m thinking about Violet.

And Steele.

It infuriates me that he thinks he can just slip in and take her away from me. If that’s what he’s doing, he’s going to lose some teeth. I’ll beat him bloody, and I don’t plan on playing fair. The asshole is two inches taller than me and packed with twenty-five pounds more muscle. It’s what makes him a good defenseman. He can check someone into the glass like no one’s business.

Even so, I’d risk it.

Steele sits in the seat in front of me. I’ve put my headphones in, trying to block everything out. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. I force my muscles to relax, and I run through plays in my mind.

We hit a pothole, and I’m jolted out of my thoughts.

“Fuck!” I growl. I rip my headphones out and stand. I lean over the back of the seat next to Steele, putting my face in his. “What the fuck is your problem?”

He smirks. “I like aggravating you. Interesting things happen.”

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