seven

MAYA

“Well, well. Practice has not even started yet.”

A gruff voice boomed through the small equipment room, breaking the heavy silence.

My heart dropped deep into my stomach. Pushing Davies back, panic surged through my veins like ice water. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood right in the doorway. He wore a Westbridge staff jacket and a harsh frown. Mr. Vance, the team’s operations manager.

Heat flooded my cheeks in a rush. Grabbing the back of my dress, my fingers fumbled with the zipper. Shame burned my skin. We were caught in a terrible position. My breathing turned shallow.

Davies did not even flinch. He just pulled his jersey down, fixing his messy hair with one hand.

"Vance," Davies nodded, keeping his voice steady and calm. "What is up?"

Vance raised a grey eyebrow, glancing between us with a knowing smirk. "The Winter Invitational is next weekend. We face Dogfang first. Coach wants the boys in prime shape. No off-ice distractions, Captain."

"Understood," Davies replied, stepping in front of me to block the man's view.

Vance gave me one last side-eye before turning away. "Get your gear on, Davies. Ten minutes."

Once the door swung shut, my breath rushed out in a harsh exhale. "Oh my god. I want the ground to open up and swallow me."

Davies let out a dark chuckle, grabbing his tape and hockey stick. "Relax, Maya. Vance is harmless. He has seen worse."

Walking out of the room, my legs still felt like jelly. Every step down the hallway reminded me of the hard ridge pressed against my stomach moments ago. A strange warmth pooled between my thighs.

"What is the Winter Invitational?" Asking the question gave me a good excuse to avoid looking at his dangerous mouth.

"Biggest mid-season tournament," Davies explained, guiding me down the concrete corridor. "Scouts from the pro leagues come down to watch. We need this win. Especially me, if I want to keep my draft stock up and clear my bad press."

Stopping near the locker room entrance, the smell of icy sweat and fresh tape hit my nose. He pushed the heavy metal door open just a crack. "Wait here."

Leaning against the wall, his voice echoed from inside. He did not sound like a cocky college boy anymore. He sounded like a true leader.

"Listen up, boys," Davies barked over the locker room chatter. "Dogfang thinks they own this division. They think we are soft. Next week, we show them a different game. We hit harder, skate faster, and break their spirit in the very first period. You with me?"

A chorus of deep, masculine shouts shook the brick walls. Hearing him command a room sent a fresh wave of heat straight to my core. Nathan never talked to his team like that. Nathan just threw temper tantrums when he messed up on the ice.

Just then, a guy with bleached blonde hair and glitter on his cheekbones strutted down the hall. He wore a tight crop top and oversized cargo pants.

"Hey, queen!" He snapped his fingers, stopping right in front of me. "You are Maya, right? The one causing all the drama on the timeline?"

"Uh, yes?" I shifted on my feet, unsure of what to say.

"Iconic," he grinned, pulling a stack of neon wristbands from his pocket. "I am Julian. Head of the social committee. Tonight is the bonfire at the quarry. You and your new man better pull up. It is going to eat. No cap."

Snatching two wristbands off the stack, he handed them over. "See you there, gorgeous."

Julian strutted away just as Davies stepped back out, fully geared up in his pads.

"What did he want?" Davies asked, eyeing the bright neon bands.

"Invited us to the bonfire tonight."

Davies smirked, leaning close. "Perfect place for our first public date. Wear something warm."

Leaving the arena, my mind turned into a chaotic mess. Thoughts of his hands on my skin kept replaying on a loop. That hard length pressing into me in the storage closet. My core throbbed just thinking about his massive size.

Arriving back at the dorm, the room smelled of incense and dark roast coffee. Elena sat cross-legged on her bed. She wore ripped fishnets, an oversized black band tee, and thick dark lipstick. A silver septum ring caught the ceiling light as she looked up.

"You look flushed," Elena noted, closing her laptop with a snap. "Did you survive the rink?"

"Yes." Dropping my bag on a chair, a long sigh escaped my lips. "It was fine. Nothing happened."

Elena raised a dark, sculpted eyebrow. "Liar. Your lipstick is smeared, and you look like you just ran a marathon. Are you okay?"

"I am good. Great, in fact." Grabbing a clean pair of jeans from my closet, a distraction was much needed. "We are going to the quarry bonfire tonight."

"Oof. The quarry?" Elena smirked, adjusting her silver chokers. "That place gets wild. Better pace your shots, girl. The frat boys mix the punch with pure grain alcohol."

Hours later, the woods buzzed with loud bass and drunk college students. Orange flames crackled high into the night sky, casting long shadows over the dirt clearing. The smell of burning wood mixed with cheap tequila and sweet weed smoke.

Couples made out against parked Jeeps. A group of frat guys chanted in a wide circle, watching someone do a keg stand upside down. Over by the pine trees, a girl in a plaid mini skirt was throwing up into the bushes while her friend held her blonde hair back. It was messy, chaotic, and deafening.

Holding a red plastic cup filled with an awful vodka mix, the liquid burned a trail down my throat. Davies stood right beside me. He wore a dark flannel and a backward cap. His large hand rested on the small of my back, fingers tracing slow circles on my spine.

It sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me when he'd pushed me against the wall and nearly ripped off all my clothes.

Fuck! 

Not now, Maya, not now. I said to myself, but my body wouldn't shut up. 

Every nerve in my body had me imagining what he'd feel like inside me.