Ch 6

Rhys

"Damn this jerk!" I bark as Jami is being pulled out of my car. Her body hits the door frame hard, making her let out a painful groan that completely grates on my nerves.

"Who drags a woman like that? Nobody taught him to be a fucking gentleman?"

I swing my door open without thinking, ready to launch myself across the hood and smash my fist straight into the guy's face. But the exact second I catch sight of the bastard that's supposed to be her brother, I freeze completely. My hand grips the edge of the car door so tight my knuckles turn white.

Cole Anderson is her brother?

Shit. I can't do a single thing right now unless I'm ready to face Jami and watch my entire disguise fall off. Cole Anderson is the star goalie for the Bridge Ice. They are the biggest rival team on the other campus, and we are highly likely to play against them in the finals. If I step out of this car and confront him, he’s going to recognize my face instantly. He knows Rhys Morton. He knows exactly who his rival captain is.

I stay in the driver's seat, my engine still purring loudly as I helplessly watch Cole yank Jami toward his heavy SUV. She tries to pull away, her small heels dragging against the dark asphalt, but he just shoves her into the backseat like she’s a criminal. His two meathead friends climb in after her, slamming the doors shut. The SUV tears out of the parking lot, its tires screeching as the red taillights disappear into the dark night.

I slam my hands against the steering wheel, letting out a sharp breath. My chest is tight with a weird mix of frustration and pure annoyance. I hate that I had to sit here and let that bastard treat a woman so roughly right in front of me, but the game has to stay alive.

The club doors swing open again, and Marcus and Chloe walk out into the cool night air. They look around the parking lot, their faces confused.

"What happened?" Chloe asks, rushing over to my side of the car. "We just came out to get some fresh air because the dance floor got too hot, but then I thought I heard Jami's voice shouting. Did Cole actually find her here?"

I run a rough hand through my hair, messing up the neat strands, and let out a dry laugh.

"Unfortunately."

"Oh my god," Chloe gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Is she okay? Did he take her back to that house?"

"Yeah," I say, my voice dropping into a flat tone as I shut off the sports car engine. "He dragged her straight into the SUV and took off. There was nothing we could do."

Chloe looks totally stressed, pulling out her phone to text Jami immediately. Marcus just stands there, his arms crossed over his chest, giving me that heavy, knowing look again. He knows exactly why I didn't jump out and play the hero. He knows Cole would have blown my cover in two seconds flat.

"Well, the night is ruined for them," Marcus says, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at me. "What do you want to do now, man? Go home?"

I glance back at the entrance of the club where the bass is still thumping heavily against the walls. The adrenaline from the kiss and the near-fight is still buzzing under my skin. Jami is gone, which means I don't have to sit here acting like my boring, sweet, nerdy brother anymore. The Reid act is officially on pause for the night.

"Go home? Are you crazy?" I slide out of the car, a sharp smirk returning to my face. "The night is just starting. I need a drink."

Chloe looks at me like she’s a little surprised by how fast my mood just flipped, but she’s too worried about Jami to say much. Marcus just sighs, knowing exactly what version of me is about to come out.

“Chloe and I will be going home then.” I watch them walk away as Chloe panics, still calling Jami but can't reach her.

I head back inside, bypassing the main floor to go straight to my private VIP booth. The second I sit down, I order bottles of high-end liquor and a round of shots, drinking heavily, letting the burning alcohol erase the annoyance of Cole Anderson.

Within an hour, the booth is packed with people. Word spreads fast that the hockey captain is spending cash, and a bunch of girls from campus crowd around the leather seats. 

We start playing drinking games, the loud laughter drowning out the heavy music outside. I'm completely in my element now, teasing the girls, leaning back with my arms stretched across the booth, acting like the reckless playboy everyone expects me to be.

The game shifts into truth or dare, and the energy gets reckless. A hot blonde sitting next to me locks her eyes onto mine, her fingers tracing the fabric of my shirt.

"Morton, truth or dare?" she asks, her voice a low purr.

"Always dare," I smirk, tossing back another shot.

The crowd cheers, and she whispers a dare that makes everyone around the table howl. She wants to take me to the back of the VIP lounge where the curtains lock out the rest of the world. I don't even hesitate. Standing up to let her lead me by the hand into the secluded, dark corner of the booth.

She pulls the velvet curtains shut, cutting off the strobe lights.

Within seconds, she's on her knees in front of me, her hands moving smoothly as she starts sucking me off. I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes as the pleasure hits me. I end up fucking her right there against the leather cushions, the friction and the heat completely taking over.

It’s exactly what I usually want on a Saturday night. No attachments, no strings, anything to fucking distract me.

But as I’m pushing into her, instead of focusing on the girl in front of me, the taste of Jami when I completely devoured her mouth…she was sweet, innocent, and totally untamed. It was a completely different kind of high, and strangely, that exact taste won't leave my mind. It's like it's stained into my lips.

I let out a low groan, forcing myself to finish fast just to get the thoughts out of my head.

Once it's over, the girl fixes her makeup and zips up her dress, smiling like she just won a prize. I slide back out to the main booth, grabbing a fresh glass of alcohol to wash the weird feeling away.

My teammate looks up as I sit down, raising an eyebrow at me.

"You look distracted, captain. Everything good?"

I let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking my head as I stare down at the amber liquid in my glass. 

It's ridiculous. I've had countless girls like the one behind the curtain, but my head is still stuck on a quiet girl who thinks I'm a good boy.

"Yeah, everything is fine," I murmur, taking a slow sip. I lean back, watching the crowd dance.

No, she's Reid's girl. I'm just playing a short holiday game to do my brother a massive favour. I can't cross the line.

“I'm sorry Jami, I'm not the good boy you want.” A grin slide to the corner of my lips, muttering before the last gulp of whatever's in my glass.

“Well, it's too late to say that…besides, I'm having so much fun.”