Ice Bet: A Forbidden Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

I wanted to kiss her just to get her to shut her bratty mouth.

Riley Lennon was a true player of the game, and up until now, I didn’t even know we were playing one. There was a small crease in between her eyebrows that I wanted to smooth out with my finger, but I remained still. I crowded her space to intimidate her.

“Cat got your tongue?” I smirked. “What exactly is it that you want? Did you want one of them to kiss you? Wanted to prove that you weren’t a duster after all?”

I was being such a dick, but that was what she deserved after pulling this stunt.

I studied the perfect curve of her lips. They were pouty and painted pink with shiny lip gloss. There was a quick lapse of time when I wondered what they tasted like. Being this close and having her at my mercy made me feel uncontrollable, and I suddenly understood the desire that the team felt. The temptation was strong, and my thoughts were spiraling.

“None of the other hockey players can have me, but you can?” Her breath was drunkenly sweet. “It sounds like you wanna win that silly little ice bet, after all.”

If I were participating, I’d fucking win.

Riley shifted her chin and placed her hands on my chest to push me away. I let her, but only for a second. I wanted to blame it on my impatience with her and the provoking sound of her voice, but truth be told, she was irresistible.

The room caved in, and the only thing I could see was her. My hand snapped out, and I gripped her wrist just as she was storming out of the pantry to go flirt with some football player. I spun her, and her big blue eyes widened with confusion. I gripped her chin tightly, opened her mouth with my thumb, and pressed her lips to mine.

Fuck. 

She tasted of something fruity, and I wanted to smother myself in it. I ran my tongue over hers, gulping up the remnants of the drink, and instead of pulling away like I should have, I found myself bringing her closer and going back for seconds. I swallowed her mouth not once but twice, moving my lips against hers so hard that our teeth clanked together. I’d never felt so possessive, and I’d never kissed someone as feverishly as I just did her.

A small whimper left her, and I snapped out of it, pulling back abruptly with my body on fire.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Her mouth was still open, lips parted with shock. I put on a good front and lifted the back of my hand and wiped my mouth, removing the vanilla-scented lip gloss. “I’m not trying to win the bet, Ry. I just know kissing you won’t fuck with my head like it will theirs. So if you want a hockey player, I’m the only one you can have.”

It totally fucked with my head.

Riley cleared her throat before smoothing out her revealing shirt with her hands. I was crazed, wild with thoughts of touching her, so I stalked over to the door and opened it. “Let’s go,” I snapped, angry at myself for kissing her. “Your dad gave me strict orders to make sure you make it home from parties, so we’re leaving.”

Riley began to walk past me, but right before she made it through the threshold, she glanced over and smiled deviously.

Shit.

I had made a colossal mistake, because kissing her didn’t affect her in the way that it affected me.

Her singsong voice rang throughout the crowded room. “Is it my turn?”

“Yes!” Taytum, our goalie’s sister, grabbed Riley’s hand and pulled her toward the end of the table.

“Sorry,” I gritted between tight teeth. “Riley is leaving.” I stole the cup that Taytum had placed in Riley’s hand and put it down.

Sully snickered from the other side of the table, and I flicked my eyes at him.

“Anddddd Taytum is leaving too.” Ford walked over to Taytum and tried to pull her away.

He failed.

Taytum and Riley shared a look, and I knew that I was in for a long night. I sighed angrily and stormed off, finding a perfect spot on the wall to keep an eye on her. I thought kissing her would put her in her place, but it did the opposite. She was laughing louder, smiling wider, and flirting so much I was about to take her back in that pantry and try again.

She wasn’t just messing with the hockey team because of the bet. She was messing with me too, and she was clearly enjoying it.

“Hey! I recognize you.” I eyed the girl who was staring at Riley. She was petite with hair so blonde it looked white. She blinked a million and one times before snapping her fingers. “Oh my god! You’re Riley Lennon. The—”

Riley flipped the last cup and threw her hands up in victory. Then she looked over at the girl and said, “Yeah, the hockey coach’s daughter. Don’t remind me.”

“No, you’re more than just the hockey coach’s daughter.”

I agreed.

“I’m Gianna.”

Riley froze. “Oh, Gianna…”

Gianna nodded. “Future teammate…I hope?”

Teammate? 

I pushed off the wall. “Teammate for what?”

Riley completely ignored me by turning her back and shutting me out of the conversation.

One of Rush’s running backs elbowed me. “Figure skating?”

What?

He must have sensed my confusion. “You didn’t know about her figure skating career?” His beer-filled breath filled the space between us. “You’re awfully protective over her for not knowing much about her.”

I mused over his dig for the next two games of flip cup. Figure skating? I would have asked her about it, but she’d probably throw her drink in my face instead of answering, so I didn’t ask.

Riley’s eyes were becoming glossier by the second. Taytum had left after the second game, getting a phone call that pulled her away, but Riley was still going strong and talking some major shit to Sully, who I couldn’t help but notice was encouraging her to keep going.

“I’m not stopping until I lose,” Riley teased, pulling her long, dark hair up into a bun on top of her head. Her bare neck gave way to smooth skin and an even bigger window to her sexy top. I was almost positive she wasn’t wearing a bra either.

After throwing back the last of my warm beer and watching every guy at the party fall under the spell that Riley had been putting on, I stepped up to the table and shoved Sully out of the way.

“My turn,” I quipped, cracking my neck.

Sully opened his mouth, but I stopped him before he could even get started.

“You lost,” I reminded him. “It’s my turn.”

Words died on the end of his lips when Riley beat him to the punch. “That’s fine,” she said. “But prepare to be put in your place, Aasher.” She turned away and mumbled the word again under her breath.

I couldn’t help but smirk at her dig.

She was sharp, and I was becoming duller by the second.

Sully rounded the table and stood beside her. Why was he standing beside her? His challenging gaze caught mine, and I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. “You know what, Duster?” I said, looking at her before snapping back to him. “Why don’t we make a bet?”

I chuckled as surprise flickered over his face.

Riley’s glossy eyes widened. There was a competitive spark there because she knew the significance of the word. For a brief second, we were on the same team.

“Okay…” Riley’s smile was lazy. She was becoming drunker by the second. “What’s the bet?”

“If I win, you leave with me.” I knew how it sounded, so I added, “And go back to your apartment.” I let my words hang in the air for a moment before dipping down low for only her to hear. “Alone.”

She rolled her glassy blue eyes. “And if I win?”

“Then we stay until you’re ready to go.” I acted indifferent, but there wasn’t a fucking chance I was letting her win.

“She doesn’t need you to take her home. I can take her.”

I completely ignored Sully and the rest of the guys at the party who were nodding. If I wasn’t standing here, they’d all openly volunteer just so they could be alone with her.

Riley’s gleaming white teeth sunk into her bottom lip. I zeroed in on her mouth and my stomach hollowed out. I was going to have to figure out how to deal with the repercussions of our kiss, because I was all sorts of fucked up.

“How about you leave and I’ll stay until I’m ready to go?”

Not a chance.

I stuck my hand out over the table lined with cups. “Bet.”

Her palm was soft and warm. I squeezed it tightly for a second before letting go.

Sully’s hands landed on the top of Riley’s shoulders, and he rubbed them a few times before whispering something in her ear that made her lips twitch. I held back a growl but was thankful for his encouragement, because seeing his hands on her pissed me off even more than her purposefully goading me.

“Ready, Duster?” I teased, seeing her little body sway to the right a little. It wasn’t a question of whether she needed to go home or not.

“Ready when you are.”

“Three, two…one. Go.”

The thing about hockey players? We worked well under pressure.

Although, after watching her for the last hour, I could see that she worked well under pressure too.

We were neck and neck. Usually in flip cup, you had a partner and switched off like a relay, but it was her and me against each other. But we were used to that by now.

“Come on, Ry!” Sully was Riley’s number one cheerleader, and in between flipping my cup and grabbing the next to down, I managed to sneak out an insult.

“Why the encouragement, Sully? Want her even drunker than she is?”

“I wish you would stop talking about me like I’m not here,” she slurred.

Even if I didn’t flip the last cup before her, I would have flung her over my shoulder and pulled her out of the party regardless, because I’d had enough.

“Time to go, Duster,” I said, rounding the table and wiping the back of my hand against the leftover beer on my lips.

Her arms crossed. “No.”

I bent my head low. “I didn’t peg you to be a cheater, Duster.”

“I am not a cheater, Broom.”

“Broom?” I repeated. Did she just call me a broom?

She giggled, and it was sort of cute. “You call me a household tool; I call you a household tool.”

I laughed out loud, and Riley’s triumphant mood quickly disappeared. Her shoulders dropped, and her arms hung down by her sides in defeat.

“You can call me whatever you want as long as you follow through on the bet. I won fair and square. Let’s go.”

“Make me.”

“My pleasure,” I said.

I quickly dropped down, wrapped my arms around the backs of her thighs, and flung her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Aasher!” It was obvious that she was surprised, and part of me was worried someone would take a photo and share it with Coach, but I’d just have to rat her out and tell him that it was the only way she’d leave the party after getting smashed.

He said he trusted me, and I hoped he did.

I’m not sure he should after I threw her into the pantry and kissed her, but I’d make sure to leave that part of the night out.

“Put me down!”

I walked through the party with Riley’s ass beside my head and her arms punching along my spine. It didn’t hurt, so I let her work out her frustration. She didn’t stop until we were outside and alone.

I turned back to the party and looked for Sully because it wouldn’t be surprising if he tried to follow us. Anything to be Riley’s knight covered in nothing but devious lies and fake chivalry, but no one was standing there except Sutton. She was drunk too, but I couldn’t carry both of them home. Riley shouted for her to go back to the party. She made some dig about me stealing all her fun, but I ignored her and continued down the sidewalk, making sure my car was locked.

“Are you seriously going to carry me the whole way in the freezing cold?” Riley hit me one last time before seemingly giving up.

“Well, if you would have left with me an hour ago, I could have driven us home, but instead, you forced me to play a game of flip cup, and now I’m half-buzzed, so thanks for that.”

“I didn’t force you.”

“Do you really think I’d leave you at a house party while you are this drunk?”

Her chest rumbled against my body with a huff, and I stopped walking. “I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” I asked, noticing the way her voice dropped in between slurring.

She was quiet, and the only thing I could focus on was my overactive imagination as I continued on our trek. My arm was sore by the time we got to our apartment complex, but I kept her flung over my body until we made it to her door.

“Time to get down, Duster.”

There was a slight whimper that left her lips.

“Riley?” I lifted my shoulder to shake her awake.

A warm sigh flitted from her mouth, and she readjusted herself on my shoulder, pressing her face into the crook of my neck. Jesus. She was warm, and the very tip of her nose brushed against my skin so lightly it sent a rush of heat down my arm.

My jaw flexed.

One inappropriate thought of Riley was dangerous, let alone the number I’d had tonight.

“Damn it,” I mumbled. Despite her labeling me as a stalker, I wasn’t a very good one because I didn’t have a key to her apartment.

“Either wake up or you’re staying in my room.” I could hear the rumors now. The coach’s daughter slept in Aasher Matthews’s room after he dragged her from a party. I’d be a dead man on skates.

Riley whimpered again, but this one was less breathy and resembled a whine. I fumbled with my key before rushing us into my apartment. No one was on the couch, but I knew I couldn’t drop Riley there or else I’d be cleaning up vomit off the floor the next morning.

“Aasher,” she panicked.

“I know,” I said, attempting to soothe her. “Almost there, Duster.”

My bathroom light brightened the room and gave way to Riley as she quickly slid herself down my body and ran over to the toilet. I turned my back, ready to shut the door and leave her, but I paused with my hands above my head, gripping the doorframe.

Seeing her like this brought back a feeling I didn’t want to recognize.

I shut my eyes and listened to the sound of her retching. There wasn’t much that could get me twisted inside, especially after molding a thick skin from what had happened with Savannah, but I’d admit, I was a little riled. I put on a decent front most of the time and acted nonchalant, but I was jaded.

“Hey,” I said, softer than normal. “You okay?”

She had stopped puking, and though I didn’t want to spin around, I did anyway. Riley’s lifeless body was curled around the toilet with sweat trickling down the side of her cheek and one arm wrapped around her lower stomach. “Riley?” I repeated, taking a step toward her.

Her nose scrunched, and I breathed out a relieved sigh, reminding myself that she’d just had too much to drink. She’s fine.

I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cold water. I bent down and pushed a strand of hair away from her tacky forehead. I had the uncontrollable urge to scoop her up, give her one of my shirts to wear, and put her in my bed for the rest of night so I could keep her close.

It was a fleeting feeling, but it was there.

“Here.” I placed the rag against her sticky skin. She sighed but shook against the floor with a chill. “Are you okay? Do you think you’re going to be sick again?”

“No.”

“No you’re not okay, or no you’re not going to be sick again?”

Her eyes were shut, so I scanned her features and saw her bottom lip trembling. I almost ran out the door. Fuck, is she crying?

“I’m…you won’t understand.”

Sitting back on my butt, I rested my back against the tub and put my legs up so I could rest my forearms against my knees. “Try me.” I swallowed. “Talk.”

“Why?” she asked, gripping her stomach again. Her eyes were still shut, but maybe that was what she preferred. I didn’t blame her.

“Because I just carried you for twenty minutes over my shoulder. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” She half-laughed, but it was weak, and her face was pale. There wasn’t a lick of color on her cheeks, and I sighed, dropping my head.

“I’ll be right back. I’m getting you a Gatorade.”

She made a noise that sounded like she was on her deathbed, but before I walked out the door she whispered, “Blue.”

“Huh?”

“I like blue.”

“You get what you get, Duster,” I said, but I knew very well that if we didn’t have blue Gatorade in the fridge, I’d make sure to find one for her.

Thankfully, we had a blue one all the way in the back. I took my time getting back to my room, hopeful that my housemates wouldn’t roam out of their rooms to see what was going on.

I trusted them because they were my teammates, but sometimes they had guests, and I didn’t want it to get around campus that Riley was in my bedroom. I knew for a fact that if Ford was here, he’d make mention of it, because he didn’t always think clearly with whiskey in his system.

I unscrewed the lid to the Gatorade, took a swig of it so it wasn’t so full at the top, and opened the bedroom door. I stilled. The bottle of Gatorade nearly slipped out of my hand.

Riley was no longer in my bathroom, and her clothes were strewn all over the floor. The see-through top she teased everyone with was dropped inches from the bathroom door, and her jeans were bundled near the foot of my bed. I swallowed the Gatorade and ran my tongue over my bottom lip before cursing under my breath at her on my bed.

She was in nothing but her panties and one of my T-shirts. Thankfully, her cleavage was covered, but without her tight top on, I saw the true size of her breasts against the thin cotton, and they were a perfect, perky handful. The black lace of her panties peeked out from below as my T-shirt rode up over the curve of her hip, and I had a hard time pulling my eyes away. There was no fucking way I was sleeping in my bed with her looking like that.

Tear-streaked face or not, she was attractive.

And the kiss. 

The fucking kiss.

She was dead asleep, chest rising slowly with her eyes shut. I reached over her and stole one of my pillows. I put it on the floor several feet away from her, because with my luck, she’d throw up on my face, and then I’d have to fling myself off a building.

I lay there for too long, listening to her soft breathing. I forced myself to keep my back to her in hopes that I would forget about her presence.

I should have been exhausted. I was exhausted, but instead of falling asleep on my makeshift bed on the floor, I opened my phone.

My fingers flew over the screen as I typed Riley Lennon into the search bar. The first thing that popped up was Coach and his stats and some other “suggested” searches on Riley that were nothing of interest to me.

Is Riley Lennon single?

How old is Riley Lennon?

How tall is Riley Lennon?

How much does Riley Lennon weigh?

But underneath those was a video with the title, Riley Lennon’s career-ending fall. I was laser-focused on the video as it opened up on my screen, wondering what it was. When the ice rink came into view, I quickly silenced my phone and listened to make sure she was still sound asleep on my comfortable bed while I was down below on the hard floor.

I was pulled back to the video, mesmerized by the light-blue outfit she wore as she skated across the ice. She made it look effortless. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, showing off her shimmering cheekbones, and there was a lightness to her that I had yet to see in person.

I felt an undeniable pull to continue watching her as she skated with vicious speed, and when she did a twirl in the air, my lips parted.

According to the captions on the bottom of my screen, it was a triple-triple. There was a brief clip of the crowd, and they were just as slack-jawed as I was. We were all in complete awe of Riley. My heart sped up when the camera pulled back to the ice, but it skipped a beat when Riley had landed her triple-triple. The pair of skates beneath her toned legs didn’t look as steady as before, and she slowed her speed down tremendously, something that was noted from the captions. If I had to guess, Riley was dizzy or lightheaded. Her head tipped to the side, and the blue of her tiny outfit swayed around her as she tilted one way and then the other.

My stomach was in my throat, and suddenly, I was watching a horror film instead of some figure skating competition. The battle was all over her face. She squinted and shook her head, but as soon as she took off to do another leap, she crumbled to the ice.

I’d fallen on ice before, and it hurt, even with pads.

Jesus.

Her head slammed against the ice, and my closed fist went up to my mouth in shock because she didn’t get up.

There were other videos of her, and by the time I was finished watching her skate in numerous competitions, my eyes burned. I eventually turned on my back and glanced at her asleep on my bed. Her forehead was smooth, and her cheeks were relaxed without that adorable little scowl she always had when talking to me. The pout of her lips was soft with her quiet breathing.

That was the first night I went to bed thinking about something other than hockey, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last.