One Night With The Hockey Billionare

RORY'S POV

“You're a disgrace to this entire bloodline, you know that?”

“You just say that because you're embarrassed of yourself father!” I spat back, refusing to let his words beat me down like it always did.

“Just like your mother, useless, ungrateful and incapable of holding your life together for even five minutes!”

“Good, because I never asked to be part of your stupid lineage anyway! I didn't ask to be born into this house!”

I slammed the front door so hard the glass pane rattled, half hoping the whole frame would just cave in and crush us both. That would've been a great plot twist for graduation night.

I stood on the porch for a second, breathing in hot air and swallowing down that dirty taste you get in your mouth when you've been screaming at the top of your lungs. My eyes were burning, but I refused to cry because crying makes my nose swell up and I had spent forty-five minutes doing my eyeliner.

Prioritization is key.

It was supposed to be my night, the whole point of getting a degree was so everyone could pretend for six hours that I wasn't the black sheep of the family.

My phone started buzzing insistently in my palm, “What?” I snapped into the mic, not even looking at the screen.

“Whoa, okay, tiger,” Yanna's voice came through, slightly muffled, like she was holding the speaker right against her ear while brushing her teeth. “Where are you? We're supposed to be meeting at the club in twenty.”

“I'm currently contemplating walking directly into oncoming traffic on the main road, but the traffic is moving at two miles an hour so it would just be very awkward and painful instead of fatal.”

“He did it again, didn't he?”

“And he involved mum this time,” I said, pacing back and forth on the stones, almost twisting my ankle every three seconds because why not add a broken bone to the evening's festivities.

“Which is hilarious, considering he hasn't seen her since I was four—”

“Right, okay, get your dramatic ass over to my house right now,” Yanna said, the sound of her closet doors sliding open clattering in the background. 

“We are not letting him ruin tonight. You worked too hard for that piece of cardstock.”

“I don't even want to go anymore, Yanna, I look like a swamp monster, my head is throbbing, and I feel like if someone looks at me wrong I'm either going to throw up or punch a wall.”

“Great, so you're in the perfect mood for a party. Ten minutes. I'm leaving the door unlocked.”

She hung up before I could construct a proper excuse, which was probably for the best because my brain was just a buzzing hive of nonsense anyway.

I shoved my phone into my clutch, stomped down the driveway, and flagged down a cab before I could talk myself into going back inside to set the curtains on fire.

×××

By the time we walked into the club, the bass was vibrating right through the soles of my shoes and into my ribcage, taking over my heartbeat so I didn't have to listen to my own.

I grabbed a glass from the bar, didn't even care what was in it, and swallowed it down until my throat burned. For one night, I didn't give a fuck about my dad or my stupid miserable life.

As the party went on, Yanna handed me a drink, “What's in it?” I asked, still vibing to the music.

“It's a new one on the shed, had mine, figured I'd bring yours over,” she chirped, pushing it into my hand.

The liquid tasted wrong the second it hit my tongue, but I swallowed it anyway because Yanna was holding my wrist, grinning, telling me to drink up and stop being such a killjoy.

Five minutes later, the floor literally turned into water.

My knees buckled, and the thumping bass in the room suddenly sounded like it was underwater, muffled and throbbing right behind my eyeballs. I blinked, but every time I closed my eyes it felt like falling down a well, just this terrible drop that made my stomach lurch up into my throat.

I stumbled sideways, grabbing onto the edge of a high table, my fingers slipping on condensation.

“Yanna,” I tried to say, but my mouth was heavy, like my tongue had grown three sizes too big. “Yanna, something's... I feel…”

She wasn't looking at my face, instead she was looking past me, over my shoulder and waving someone over. Her face kept blurring, stretching out like melting plastic, then snapping back into focus.

I saw her hand on my upper arm, not holding me up, but pushing me forward, nudging me straight into the chest of a guy in a leather jacket who I had never seen before in my life.

“Take her,” I heard her say, her voice sounding thin and far away, like it was coming out of a broken radio. “She's good to go.”

Good to go? Go where? What are you talking about?

“Yanna—”

My brain was trying to scream, trying to kick my legs into moving, but the connection between my head and my body was just cut. It was like watching a movie of myself from across the room.

Then the hands clamp around my arms, grabbing my waist and my elbows, pulling me through the crowd toward the back exit where the neon lights turned into dark shadows leading to the alleyway.

There were three guys. I could smell cigarettes and beer on them, breathing right against my neck as they dragged my feet across the floor.

I couldn't muster a single word, just a little rasp.

My eyelids felt like weights, dropping shut for three seconds, five seconds, opening again to see the exit sign blinking red above us. They were whispering to each other, laughing and making comments about how light I was, how easy this was, and this wave of horror washed over me, but my muscles were totally paralyzed.

Then the door swung open into the cold night air, and I was jerked backward so hard my neck snapped back.

The hands on my waist suddenly disappeared and before I knew it there was a loud thud behind me, then the sound of someone swearing loudly, and then a body hit the pavement beside me.

I sagged toward the ground, but before I could crash onto the concrete, a pair of strong arms caught me around the ribs, pulling me back against a chest.

I tried so hard to force my eyes open, just to see his face, to see who was holding me, but all I got was a blurred outline of a sharp jaw, dark hair, and steady eyes looking down at me before the dark completely swallowed me whole.

After what felt like hours, I opened my eyelids just a sliver, expecting the blaring neon lights of the club or the road of the alleyway, but everything was soft.

The light was low and warm, casting long shadows across a ceiling I had never seen before in my life. I laid on white sheets with a duvet over me.

Someone was holding me by the shoulders, gently leaning me back against a stack of pillows.

My eyes adjusted slowly, but I couldn't process where I was, or why he was here, or why Yanna wasn't here, but the thought of being left alone in the dark right now made my throat tighten up with panic.

He started to pull back, his hands slipping away from my shoulders.

“No,” I managed to slur out, “Please don't... don't go.”

I didn't want the dark to swallow me again. I didn't want to think about my father or how easily everything had just fallen apart in a single night. I reached out blindly, my fingers tangling into the front of his shirt, tugging him back down toward me before he could step away from the bed.

He froze, looking down at me with a confused crease between his brows. “Wait, hey—”

“Stay,” I muttered, my thoughts scattered, “Just stay. Please.”

Before he could say another word, I pulled him down that last inch and pressed my lips against his.

His whole body went rigid above me and for a second, he didn't move at all, just suspended there, shocked, his hand hovering over the mattress while my brain tried to make sense of the sudden warmth of his mouth against mine.

He hesitated, a ragged breath escaping his nose, and then his hand moved to the side of my face, his fingers threading into my messy hair as he leaned into it and kissed me back