SIN-BIN: An Enemies To Lovers College Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)

AVA

Just a second. Just a second is all it takes to lose my shit and turn into a submissive idiot.

What is so special about this guy? He’s the only one who affects me like this. The only one who gets under my skin with such ease it scares me to death. The only one whose kisses keep me awake at night. Just kisses, nothing more. It’s so fucked up. I can’t even think straight when he’s around.

“Put me down,” I tell him like a thousand times, and he only shrugs. “Colton, I’m serious. Put me down right now.”

“Why?” he asks, meeting my gaze for a moment.

What does he mean? He has been carrying me for ten minutes already, and he’s absolutely unaffected, as if I’m lighter than a feather. I didn’t notice even a drop of sweat on his forehead, and he hasn’t shifted his hands. He is acting as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I hate him.

Or maybe not. I don’t know how I feel about him anymore. He’s giving me whiplash, being hot then cold, whichever suits him better in the moment. Plus, there’s his reputation and everything I already know about him. Why is he so fixated on me? Why is he here when he can have any girl he wants? It doesn’t make any sense.

I sneak a glance at him, raking my gaze over his face. He’s so stunning I get tingles all over my skin just looking at him. Deep brown eyes with long, thick eyelashes, a straight nose, and full lips above a strong jawline. He must spend a lot of his time outside, I notice a scattering of freckles on his nose. It’s cute somehow, like it’s something that makes him real and down-to-earth. I get them during the summer, just because I’m not a homebody. I love going places, and I prefer outdoor activities over spending time indoors. Is he the same? Or not? I know almost nothing about him, and I did nothing to change that. Miscommunication is a bitch, and it’s our fault we let it happen.

“Colton, I’m not going to run away.” Hearing this, he focuses his attention on me, slowing down just a bit. “You can put me down.”

“Do you think that’s the reason I’m carrying you? That I’m afraid you’ll run away from me?” His voice is full of amusement, and I pinch my brows together.

“Why else?”

“Because I want to.” His eyes are glimmering with mischief. My heartbeat accelerates, and the butterflies in my belly decide to throw a party. That’s the only explanation I have for the flutters I feel. It’s insanity.

I sigh, tightening my grip around his shoulders. I lower my gaze to his mouth again, admiring the lopsided grin that’s still playing on his lips. He’s even more attractive and carefree now, not the usual broody and moody Colton Thompson I know. He’s different when he’s with me. As long as I don’t say anything that makes him cringe. Or angry. At least that’s something I’ve gathered about him. Why does his bottom lip look puffy?

Without thinking, I trace his bottom lip with my thumb. He grimaces when I touch the puffy spot. “Did someone punch you?”

“Your friend did.”

“Drake?” I ask, and he immediately snorts. “What’s so funny?”

“You guessed it right away.” Colton smiles, drawing me closer. “You really are just friends, aren’t you?”

“Duh, of course. Hooking up with him was great, but…” I notice him furrow his brow. He’s jealous, and my mood suddenly improves a ton. “I don’t want to lose my best friend over something that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The corners of his mouth quirk a little as he tries to fight his smile. “Good to know.”

A moment of silence passes between us as my body fills with warmth and happiness. It feels so good, I decide to tell him the truth about Layla’s brother and me. “I didn’t sleep with Drake that night you saw us leaving the party together. We just watched The Witcher in his room till morning.”

His face lights up with a smile as he gazes at me. “Geralt is a great character. I watch it too,” he chimes in softly. He doesn’t question my words, he simply chooses to trust me.

Colton takes a few steps forward and lowers me to my feet. He fishes his keys from his pocket and meets my gaze again. He doesn’t say a thing, just carefully takes my palm and pulls me to him. I stumble, placing my hand on his chest to steady myself. Who am I kidding? Touching him feels like a dream come true.

“Come with me.” And now my panties are a hot, wet mess. Damn him. I suck in a breath, my lips parting as I stare at him from under my eyelashes. Colton grins and leans to my ear. “Come for me could be arranged too. But only later. First, I want to talk to you.”

“Sure,” I mumble, licking my lips. “Talk.”

He sighs, raising his eyes to the sky for a brief moment. “If I wanted to fuck you, I would have done it already. I wouldn’t have brought you to my place. And I definitely wouldn’t have carried you here. Any dark alley would have worked. Or a car.”

“Who said I’m interested?” I arch my eyebrow, keeping my face impassive.

“Your pulse.” I slide my gaze to my wrist, only now noticing that his hand is wrapped around it. “And probably your panties.”

Smart-ass. I push him away and saunter inside his building as he holds the door open. I walk up the stairs, heading to his apartment as if I’ve been here a thousand times before. He stays behind me, and I’m sure he’s enjoying the view. His gaze is on my back, and it truly affects me more than any physical contact. Just the knowledge that he’s watching me…

Once we’re inside his apartment, I take off my boots and my jacket, putting it on a hanger. I hesitate for a second, and Colt presses his palm to my lower back. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, thank you.”

He ushers me to the living room, turning on the lights as we step in. Last time I was here with Clay, I thought he would be my friend. I shake my head, trying to get rid of my memories. Only when he fulfills his part of the bet will I think about forgiving him. I’m too revengeful to let it slide just because.

“What about a beer?”

“No. I had enough at the party,” I tell him, edging closer to the couch and plopping myself down onto it. Colton joins me and turns to have a better look at me. I have a question for him, and without waiting for him to take the lead, I push the ball into his court. “What happened at the movies?”

“Meaning?” Colt leans on the couch, propping his head on his hand.

“Why did you say no? You were into me just as much as I was into you. Then you pushed me away. Whatever you want to call it, the result is the same. You were cold and distant.”

“Didn’t I tell you I liked kissing you?”

“You did,” I agree, shifting a little to take a hair tie from my purse. I collect my hair and twist it into a bun. “But you could have handled it differently. You didn’t have to ditch me the second you rejected me, without any explanation.”

“I realized you were with me because you thought you owed me something. Because you wanted to reciprocate.”

“Colton, you need to know one thing about me.” I point my finger at him. “I never do anything I don’t want to.”

He watches me, his fingers tapping on the back of the couch. I wait, letting my words sink in. I wanted to return the favor, it’s true, but I also wanted to make him feel good. He’s smart; it shouldn’t take him long. When he finally starts smiling, I know he understands.

“I’m sorry. I should have explained myself. Now I feel like a complete jerk.”

“You should.” I lift my shoulder. “Why didn’t you read my message when I texted you on Friday before the game?”

“Because I saw you with Drake,” he admits quietly.

“And?” I press, trying to figure out what that means in the long run. Do I want to believe what he’s saying? Does it mean he likes me? Because if yes—oh my fucking God.

“I thought you were going to hook up with him again.” His voice drops an octave lower, and I want to laugh. His words from earlier come back to me, and they start making sense.

“Did you say something to Drake about that? About me being in his car? Did you call me names?”

“That’s what I always do. Say something mean and offensive—”

“To push people away. To keep them from getting closer, to not let them see the real you.” Colton swallows soundly, shifting in his seat. “You need to do something about this habit of yours. Not everyone has the patience of an angel. I definitely don’t.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am. For assuming you slept with Moore, for not telling you about the bet, and for being a fucking moron who can’t handle his emotions. Your college experience wasn’t a nice one because of me and my actions.” It means a lot that he says it. The first step in fixing things is to make sure we understand our mistakes. I only hope the honesty I hear in his voice and see in his eyes is real.

“Thanks.” I speak softly. “I’m not a saint either. I can be mean and vengeful too—”

“You’re a tornado. That’s what Drake called you not so long ago.”

“That’s what my dad says,” I confirm with a smile that all at once breaks into a yawn. What time is it? It was past two a.m. when I last checked my phone outside Moore’s house.

“If I knew you were so sleepy, I would have kidnapped you earlier.” Colt stands up from the couch and extends his hand to me. And just like that, I’m nervous. What does it all mean? “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

I take his outstretched hand, letting him pull me to my feet. “I can go back to my dorm and sleep in my bed.”

“No.” It’s firm. With a pinch of finality. Steely. Colton doesn’t expect objections. He’s sure I will stay.

“I don’t really take orders.”

“It’s not an order.” He takes a step forward, still holding my hand in his. “Please, Ava, stay.”

That’s better…or not. He makes me doubt my feelings. My cravings. My usual likings. His roughness at the movies turned me on more than anything else, and that’s new for me. I prefer to be in control, to be the one who orchestrates everything. But Colton Thompson turns me into someone very different without even trying, by just being by my side.

“Okay.” I lace my fingers through his, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. Finding his weak spots is exhilarating and invigorating. I want to know more about him, about his habits and addictions. I want to know him. The real him.

Colton slowly ambles to his bedroom, and I follow him. Once he opens the door, he lingers in the doorway and looks at me. “Just to be clear: I’m not taking you into my room to have sex.”

“Should I be offended?” I tease him, cocking an eyebrow in question.

“You look tired.” He cups my cheek with his hand, bending down to meet my eyes. “Even though it would be flattering if you passed out while I was fucking you, that’s not how I want our first time to be.”

Colt kisses my nose, leans away, and walks into his bedroom. I step inside, thinking about everything he just said. My mind drifts back and forth between his words, and the more I absorb them, the more my amusement grows. Our first time. He doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing. He doesn’t want it to be his usual, but what does that mean for me?

“Here.” Something soft is pushed into my hands, and I return to reality. “You can sleep in this.”

“Thanks.” I head to his bed, but he’s retreating to the door with a blanket under his armpit. “Where are you going?”

“I have zero self-control when you’re around.” He puts his hand on the doorknob, holding my gaze. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“That is the shittiest excuse ever.”

“Well, shitty or not, it’s the truth.” Colton winks, taking a step outside the room. “Breakfast is on me.”

He closes the door behind him, leaving me alone. I understand where he’s coming from, and I do want to sleep, but that doesn’t make his behavior any less confusing. What will happen in the morning? After breakfast? Are we going to talk? Is he going to fuck me then? Or send me home?

I put his T-shirt on the bed and quickly find the bathroom. The rest of the apartment is plunged into darkness and quiet. I try to move without a sound. He can’t already be asleep, but I don’t want to draw his attention to me. I’m a mess, and I’m yawning nonstop. It will be way better to face him when I’m rested.

Closing the door, I trudge to his bed and quickly change my clothes. His tee is long and soft, covering my ass completely. Not that I’m surprised—he’s way taller than me. I slip under the covers and nestle comfortably, huddling like a baby. I feel secure when he’s around, protected, and that’s something I feel even being in his room. Alone. I drift off to sleep way sooner than I thought.

Quietly tiptoeing out of the bedroom, I hope to catch him off guard. It’s nine a.m., and I honestly don’t expect him to be up, but I’m wrong.

The sound comes first, followed by a delicious aroma. He did say breakfast was on him, so that explains why he’s already cooking.

Stepping into the kitchen, I smile to myself and then freeze. This is not what I expected for sure. Colton is making breakfast for us, wearing only his briefs. Suddenly, I have lost my appetite—but my infatuation with him is only growing.