He made a strangled sound, and covered it with another yawn. “Sorry. Traveling, and studying. I’m always wiped by Sunday. How about you, man? Do you have plans for swimming after college?”

  Wade launched into his spiel about how he found swimming, how it was going on the team, and what he wanted to do after college. I didn’t hear a word of it because Cruz went back to rubbing my clit. I sat there, pretending to study with one hand holding my highlighter, and the other was holding onto Cruz’s wrist.

  God. He was so good at that.

  Another sweep, another caress. Then he pressed in again, holding, and ohmyfuckinggod, I was coming at the table. My hand clamped down on his wrist, even as my legs quaked, and when the last of the waves subsided, he turned his hand around, linking with mine briefly before pulling his hand free. Wade was talking to another of the guys. The girls were enraptured, so I shot Cruz a look from the side of my eye. He was looking right at me, and grinned, slowly, but his eyes were dark and piercing.

  I opened my mouth, an excuse to leave on the tip of my tongue when the back kitchen door opened.

  Plop!

  A cupboard was opened and closed. Another cupboard.

  The sound of the fridge door being opened.

  Things, containers were being placed on the counter.

  A bag was crinkled.

  More crinkling.

  A plate.

  The sound of a knife or fork moving over a plate.

  The click of something I couldn’t decipher.

  The fridge was opened again. I was on the end so I could hear everything more easily than the others.

  Whoosh! The smell of toast.

  I heard more sounds and then the slightest squeak of sneakers against the kitchen tile.

  Miles came to the doorway, a plate of toast in hand and was raising a mug to his mouth. He froze, taking everyone in, the mug at his mouth. His eyes went wide. “Ooh–” He choked a little on his coffee before adjusting and waving with the plate, a tiny motion. “Hi, everyone. No clue a whole study thing was happening here.”

  “Hi, Miles.” One of the girls, not the one that liked Wade, waved.

  Miles saw Cruz and lit up. “Styles. Man! What’s up.” He walked around, and I ducked to avoid having coffee or toast spilled on me.

  “What’s up?” Cruz reached back, giving some space between us from the motion, and his hand met Miles’s in a half handshake, half slap.

  Miles scanned the table and sat across from Cruz. “Guessing I’m joining the party.” He put his things down and went to grab his bag.

  I sighed.

  Thirty minutes later, my phone started lighting up.

  I saw an earlier text from Gavin and clicked on it.

  Studying with Gaynor at the library. What are you doing?

  Me: Just saw your text. I’m in for the night. See you in class on Tuesday.

  He responded, but I scrolled through the rest.

  Tasmin: Can we talk?

  Five minutes later,

  Tasmin: You were a bitch to me on the phone, and I’d like to know what I did to piss you off.

  Five more minutes later,

  Tasmin: I’m not trying to be a bother here, but wth?

  Ten minutes after that,

  Tasmin: Text me back or I’m telling my brother.

  That did it.

  I hit call and stood from the table, heading up to my place as she picked up.

  “Finally,” she griped.

  “I was a bitch to you because we’re not friends. I do not want to set a precedent where you think we’re going to be friends. And for you threatening to call your brother on me, fine, but get ready because knowing how he is, he’d chew me out. Threaten me. Then he’d turn right around and tear into you to leave me the fuck alone.”

  She was quiet for a second. “I wasn’t talking about that brother.”

  Oh. That’s right. She had a twin, who was in a crew, and they were known for handling themselves.

  “I don’t know your twin. Remember? Want a go at me, you should’ve stuck with the one I used to fuck.” I ended the call, annoyed. If Tasmin wasn’t connected to people from back home, I might’ve been friends with her. But she was and that’s just how it worked out.

  “Who did you used to fuck?”

  I cursed under my breath.

  I’d left the door open, and Cruz was standing there, my bag in one hand and his in the other.

  He came into the room, shutting the door, and put both bags on the couch. He remained standing.

  “I grabbed your stuff, told them I’d drop it off on my way home. I’m pretty sure one of those girls is waiting to proposition me when I leave here.” He didn’t come toward me, instead he put his hands in his sweatshirt, stretching it and getting comfortable.

  Or he looked it.

  I couldn’t read him right now.

  I was also remembering that I was still wearing his hoodie.

  This was the shit I didn’t want to deal with in our arrangement. But I was dealing with it because I didn’t want to end what we had going, and I didn’t want to think any more on that because I should end it, right now, as soon as possible.

  I said, “You know Tasmin Shaw?”

  He frowned a little, his head cocking to the side. “I think so.”

  “Ryerson is her boyfriend.”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s a cool guy.”

  “I used to have the same arrangement with her half-brother that I do with you.” My tongue was sticking to the back of my throat. I did not want to talk about Blaise with Cruz. “Except he and I were friends.”

  His eyes flickered before a long slow nod. “I see. It didn’t end well?”

  I hated this, hated it. But here I was, going personal.

  I went to my chair by the couch and scooted back in the corner, bringing my legs up and hugging my knees to my chest. I looked away because I did not want to see Cruz when I said some of this.

  “Things are a lot with my home life, and that’s all I’m going to ever say about that, but I use sex to cope with it. Blaise fell for someone, called quits on our arrangement, and well; it was during a really hard time at home. I was losing the thing I used to cope with what was going on, and I didn’t handle it very well. Not because of him, but because I didn’t have another lifeline set in place. If I had, I wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t know any of that and I’m still embarrassed, even a year later, how I reacted. I can be…a bitch to push people away.”

  “Blaise DeVroe.”

  He wasn’t speaking like that was a question. He knew who Blaise was. “Yeah. Seems I have a type.”

  “Your ex is another major athlete.” Cruz let out a short laugh. “You acted like you didn’t know who I was when we hooked up the first time.”

  My head whipped to his. “I didn’t. I found out in December.”

  His eyes were narrowed, and there was a coldness that I’d never seen directed at me. Ice went down my spine. “I don’t like being targeted or used.”

  “Fuck you. I did neither.”

  His jaw clenched. “I don’t believe you.”

  Okay. This was going the route it needed to. “Then leave, Cruz. Our arrangement was for a reason. I didn’t lie, ever. I had no clue who you were until your name started popping up in everyone’s conversations about the hockey team. The door’s that way. No skin off my nose.”

  His jaw was still clenching, and he looked away, a harshness coming off him. “I didn’t want a girlfriend.”

  “We’re not. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

  “We’re something because I’m pissed thinking you targeted me, and I’m not leaving. I should’ve walked the second you said your ex’s name.”

  “He wasn’t my ex.”

  He shot back, “He was your ex of something.”

  I couldn’t fight against that.

  “Goddammit!” He rose from the couch.

  I watched him, locking down, waiting for him to walk out that door. It’s what he should do. He knew it and I knew it, but I wasn’t being a bitch. I wasn’t sealing the end of us in place, and that was terrifying me.

  My phone started ringing again, but I ignored it.

  I was waiting for Cruz to either leave or do what he came here for. He needed to make the decision, and I’d handle the consequences.

  He wasn’t moving, but he was glaring at me. He was seething, looking like he hated me.

  That calmed me for some crazy reason. It did. If he hated me, we could still do this. Hate fucking was sometimes the best kind. Hate fucking. Loathe fucking. Just a good personal barrier in there, between him and me that kept us from getting close because we were already too close. It was too personal. Too dangerous.

  Too foolish.

  But if he hated me, yeah. I could see it. We could still do this then. He just had to keep hating me.

  My phone stopped ringing, and a second later, it started up again.

  Cruz cursed, going for the phone. He answered, “What?”

  A woman’s voice was on the other end.

  He blinked, frowning, but handed the phone to me. “Some lady in Vegas?”

  I launched off the chair, snatching the phone from him and I went to the bedroom. “Mom?”

  “I’m not her.”

  It wasn’t the lady from before. Different voice.

  “Who is this?”

  She coughed into the phone, her voice coming out hoarse. “I got a call from your mom. I was in the same facility as her. She asked me to give you a message.”

  Every word she said was searing me. “What’s the message?” I didn’t want to hear it. It would be bad, so bad.

  “She said she knows where you are and if you don’t want her to show up and fuck your life up, she wants fifty grand.” The lady’s tone grew firm but cold. Businesslike. “You’ve got to the end of the week to get it to her, and she said if you want instructions on how to get it to her, unblock one of her numbers. She’ll be waiting for your call.”

  She ended the call after that.

  “Who was that?”

  Cruz was still here.

  Fifty grand? She was blackmailing me?

  Blackmailing her daughter?

  What was the fifty grand for? Was she in trouble? Again?

  My walls were rattling. They were threatening to explode, and I tried bringing up the house imagery again. Everyone had their own room. I could walk freely through the hallways, but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t focus on envisioning a house.

  I was so fucked.

  My mom was blackmailing me, and if I gave in, she’d keep doing it. “This is payback for ignoring her.”

  Right? Or was she really in trouble?

  My chest was starting to hurt.

  “Ignoring who? Who was on the phone?” Cruz was at my side, and he lifted my hand. “Jesus, Mara.”

  He pulled back my fingers. I saw the blood trickling down.

  I’d sunk my nails into my skin and hadn’t felt a thing.

  Huh.

  I looked at my other hand, wondering if I’d done the same with that one, but no. It still had the phone.

  That’s when I lost it, throwing my phone.

  A deep and primal scream ripped from me, and I couldn’t stop.

  “Mara!”

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  My mother.

  I couldn’t–

  Cruz picked me up and ran.

  I was still screaming.

  I wanted to puncture my own ears.

  Pain. Something. I needed to feel something other than what she was doing to me.

  Cruz was fumbling, reaching into my pockets. I didn’t know what he was doing. I didn’t care. He was searching his own pockets. He tossed something in the corner, and then I was being shoved underwater.

  I choked off, the water cascading inside my mouth, but no. That was even better.

  I could drown.

  Could I drown?

  Would that make it stop?

  “Fuck!”

  I turned, starting to fight off whoever was there.

  “What–Mara!” Cruz was yelling in my face.

  Cruz.

  It was Cruz.

  I looked down, in a daze, seeing he was soaked, his chest heaving and his eyes blazing.

  “Baby, stop screaming.” He moved in, huddling over me since I was starting to shake from the cold.

  I felt that. Why was I cold?

  He pushed back some of my hair, cupping and framing my face. His forehead rested on mine. “If you don’t shut up, your neighbors are going to call the cops. I have no idea why your roommates aren’t up here yet.”

  Shut up?

  Screaming. I’d been screaming.

  My throat was hurting.

  I whispered, “You hate me.”

  His eyes flashed. “I don’t know about that, but yeah, I’m still pissed.”

  “I need you to hate me.”

  He frowned, not saying anything. But the need was too deep, too now.

  I reached for him.

  17

  CRUZ

  I didn’t know who this Mara was, and the thought didn’t sit right with me. She was lying on her stomach, stretched out on the bed, and I was moving inside of her from behind. I ran a hand down her back, over her ass, and she curled her back for me. She was always so responsive to me.

  I loved that.

  Did not love whatever was going on with her, but there was an extra frenzy to her. It was addicting. I felt it in my blood, this voracious need to keep going, keep tasting, keep fucking, just keep keep keep.

  I’d only felt this on the ice. The hardest games, when you just inch out the win, get that last score or get past their last line of defense. It was the same feeling. Man, the rush. It was like ecstasy, but you’re in the zone.

  I was feeling it now, this new demand to dominate her, as if I could fuck myself into her body, get under her skin where she’d never not feel me there. Every guy after, she’d be feeling me and not them.

  A growl erupted from me, and I started fucking her harder. “Fuck, Mara.”

  Leaning down, my body over hers, I reached for the top of the backboard and began ramming into her. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

  She went crazy, meeting me just as hard.

  Fucking her was like tasting heaven normally. This one was like needing to conquer it or heaven wasn’t going to let me in again.

  She’d already come for me twice so this time was for me, and I felt myself coming. The pleasure that spilled out.

  Goddamn. I had no words.

  I had no energy either. We were at midnight and had been going for the last three hours straight. I had an early skate, so I needed to head home.

  I waited a little longer, until the last of the rolling eased up before I eased out of her and tossed the condom in the garbage.

  I moved to the edge of the bed and sat there a moment. I needed to catch my bearings.

  She sat up, the sheets rustling behind me, and skimmed a hand down my back. Coming up, her legs rested on either side of me, and she leaned against my back. I could feel her cheek on my spine and her arms went around me, resting on my stomach.

  She could be such a bitch and times like this, so sweet.

  That scream earlier. I’d only heard a similar scream once and it gave me nightmares for years. Hearing that coming out of her, my blood went to ice. We’d definitely shifted, but knowing Mara how I did, she’d try to deny it. It was useless. I was addicted to her, and it was becoming more. Same for her or she would’ve kicked me out in two seconds tonight.

  And her ex. Fuck.

  That guy. He was already a legend in the soccer world. I followed the sport, it was a nice escape from the pressures of hockey sometimes, but he was the real deal. Jesus. Fuck. Fuck! That took me right back to the beginning of what are the chances she sought out two guys on similar paths. The NHL was circling me, but I wanted one more year at least in college. I had hopes to still finish my degree, but no one knew that. Even my mom didn’t. So yeah, logically it would not make sense that Mara didn’t know who I was, but the thing was, I believed her.

  Or I wanted to believe her.

  Or fuck again because it’d been the perfect timing for that phone call. It worked. I got distracted.

  I was still in bed with her.

  I needed to go. All the mess happening, that was one thing I knew for certain.

  “No more texting.”

  I tensed but turned to see her. She shifted, bending her knee and bringing her leg back in.

  Man, her eyes. So tormented. Now I knew what was in there, or got a glimpse, I couldn’t unsee it. She had serious ghosts from her past.

  “No calls. Nothing. I mean, unless you want to come over for this, but we need to stop the other shit.”

  She tucked her head down. I could feel her pulling away from me.

  Whatever storm had been in her, was still in her, but it was like I fucked it down each time we went a round.

  “Okay.”

  I pushed up from the bed, and I could hear her breathe easier.

  Such a mind fuck.

  I ignored it, not knowing what to do with her, and began dressing. I was ready to go within minutes and grabbed up my bag and keys. Checking my phone, I cursed because there was a missed call from my mom and a following one from Titi. I’d have to send a text to both in the morning. Titi woke up early so she’d be happy. My mom, I’d like if she could’ve slept in, but I didn’t know what shift she was on with the hospital.

  She was quiet in the bedroom. I was reaching for the doorknob but screw it.

  I went back and paused in the doorway. “You’re going to be okay?”

  “We’re not–”

  “We’re beyond that right now. Are you going to be okay? I heard that call. That lady—her voice was loud.”

  She wouldn’t look at me but nodded. She sounded so hollow when she said, “I’ll be okay.”

  I braced. I didn’t know why. Maybe my own past history because right now she was reminding me of someone too, but either way, that situation was most certainly not this situation. “I can come over in the evenings.”

  She looked up, and even her eyes were glassy and empty.

  I winced at seeing that. “After practice, before dinner.”