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“I can’t lie, Nash. You know I do. But I’m not even allowed to be involved with you.” She pushes to stand and begins to head back in the direction we came.
“With all due respect, Vi, fuck that. Are you going to let some arbitrary rule dictate how you live your life?”
“It’s not the same for me and you.” She throws up her hands. “You’d get a slap on the wrist; a talking-to at most. I could be disciplined, lose my internship credit, or worse.”
“Of course, you didn’t. You’re a hockey god. You could burn down the dining hall in broad daylight and the school would pretend it was an accident.”
“What kind of friend is he when he clearly has ulterior motives? Nothing you can say will change the fact that he wants to fuck you.”
It’s no big secret that I’m crazy attracted to Violet, but that isn’t the point at hand. I’m not in this to get laid; I could easily do that with someone else.
Violet is sitting with Preston, Julianna is with Christina, and I want to punch both Preston and myself squarely in the face. In that order.
In my defense, Biscuit is particular about the cleanliness of his water bowl and deviating from his bathroom schedule can have disastrous consequences. Plus, I needed to make sure Sav knew about his fear of the vacuum cleaner. We have to store it in the closet when it’s not being used, or he’ll sit and howl at it.
From experience, I know the answer to that is no. Nash isn’t an exhibitionist, per se; he doesn’t get off on the idea of being seen, he just doesn’t care.
A smirk plays on his lips. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get jealous before. It’s hot, for the record.”
“I said I was giving you space. Not that I was giving up.” “I don’t like space,” I whisper. “I fucking hate it.”
Nash clamps his hand over my mouth with a low chuckle, muffling my cries. “We need to work on your volume control.”
“Remember death, love your fate.”
But I’m not wired to be happy. And sometimes, getting what you want is the scariest thing of all—because I’m afraid I’m going to lose it again.
Is Julianna on Team Preston or something? What the fuck? Either way, I’m sure he doesn’t exactly mind. If he were any closer to Violet, he’d be sitting in her goddamn lap.
“Look, Richards.” Coach Ward scans our surroundings, his voice stern but not severe. “I like Violet, and I’m not here to ruin anyone’s internship or chances at graduation, nor am I going to tell you what to do on your own time. But make sure you keep it professional on the clock going forward, okay? My discretion ends if it becomes a problem.”
There is no playing it safe when it comes to love; it’s a contact sport for your heart.
“I want to be with you, but I’m afraid you’re going to pull back like you did last time.”
“Let me caveat this by saying, this isn’t an excuse. What I did was shitty, but things were different back then. I was young and immature. And honestly, I got scared.”
“Biscuit ate Connor’s new Golden Goose shoes the other day.” There’s an unmistakable grin in Nash’s voice. Despite the situation, I can’t help but laugh. I reopen my eyes, turning to face him. “Again? Did you tell him he was a bad dog?” “Fuck no, I gave him a belly rub and extra treats.”
I’d have gotten a dog years ago. Biscuit is parenting more than his parents ever did, and Connor resents the shit out of it.”
“Yeah, especially Vaughn. He’s always wanted a dog. Was never able to have one growing up. We call him Biscuit’s dogfather now.”
“I lied for you that day. Told them you had food poisoning.” My voice cracks. “Then I went home and cried into my pillow for a week, but I like to think I sold it in front of them.”
“Tough crowd,” I say.
“I was going to make up another explanation to tell you that didn’t make me look so bad, but I didn’t want to lie.”
“He’s using my sweet, innocent puppy to pick up women.” “Pretty much.” Nash shrugs. “But whatever keeps the peace around the house. Plus, Biscuit needs the exercise.”
LSU won. And no one else knows Nash got hurt.
She slams the door behind her, whirling around to face me. “You’re dizzy.” This is a disappointment, to say the least. I was expecting victory sex. Or a victory blowjob. Preferably both.
“You need to stop playing until your symptoms are fully resolved and then you can follow a stepwise return-to-sport plan. But you need to sit out for a few games, at least.”
If we could put a pin in this fight until later, that would be great. Better yet, until never.
“You know what else is a massive liability?” she asks. “Permanent brain damage.”
Fuck. Biscuit is a four-legged garbage disposal. Refusing to eat is unheard of for him.
“I know he’s sick,” Nash says, his mouth hinting at a smile, “but I think he might be playing it up a little for your sake.”
“This is a family matter, Violet.” He rolls his eyes. “We don’t need jersey chasers getting involved.”
Good. The only thing worse than losing is losing while I’m benched. I always feel at least somewhat responsible.
“Vi, I know you’re probably horrified by the shit show you just witnessed, but that’s basically just an average Friday in the Richards family. It’s not the first time he’s said those things to me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” A rueful smile plays on his lips. “It’s the first time I’ve told him to go fuck himself, though.”
“I almost ruined the best thing that ever happened to me for a second time. Sounds exactly like something he’d do.”
The most important part of my life isn’t hockey or my career. She’s sitting in section 106, row 5, and she’s my whole fucking world.
