Page 56 of Never Mine to Hold


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“He’s a real hottie, isn’t he?” Erin says with a lusty sigh.

I drag my gaze away from the screen and jerk my shoulders, hoping the gesture comes off as indifferent. “He’s all right.” Then I tack on, “If that’s what you’re into.”

She snorts as a wide grin lights up her face. “Ah, yeah. I’m totally into his brand of handsome.” She glances around the bar. “And so are half the hoes in this place.”

I can’t help but reluctantly look at the girls that now fill the tables with their skintight jeans and cleavage bearing tops. More than a handful are wearing shirts with Wolf’s name and number stamped across their backs or breasts. It’s not like I haven’t seen girls walking around campus decked out in his gear, but for some reason, in this moment, it eats at me.

And that bothers me more than anything.

Unwilling to dwell on the reason, I shove Wolf from my head and point toward a group of students who look like they could use a refill. “I’d better check on my tables,” I mumble.

A rousing cheer goes up, and I glance at the television just in time to see Wolf pop up from his knees. A shiver dances down my spine as I stare at the screen.

“He’s really on fire tonight,” Erin says.

The next hour is filled with more of the same. Wolf’s goaltending abilities are all anyone can talk about, along with his potential NHL career. By the time the team walks in after the game, the bar is packed, and my nerves are stretched taut. I feel the moment his gaze settles on me.

How could I not when a shiver races down my spine, and the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck stand to attention?

After all these years, Wolf Westerville has done the unthinkable.

Within a matter of weeks, he’s managed to chip away at my defenses, and I have no idea how long it’ll be before he obliterates what’s left of them.

What I do know is that it’s scary as hell.

Chapter 19

Wolf

The moment I push through the back door and into the dimly lit bar, my gaze scans the thick crowd with the need to find her. Even during the game, when I’m normally laser focused on tending the goal, Fallyn was front and center in my brain. All I could think about was her watching me on one of the big screens.

Would I have preferred for her to be in the stands cheering me on?

Fuck yeah, but I also knew that wasn’t going to happen.

At least while working, she’d be forced to watch the game. Every time I saved a goal, the fans in the arena screamed my name and sang my praises. It only pumped me up. I didn’t want her to walk more than ten feet without someone mentioning me.

And you know what?

I played the best fucking game of my life with twenty-six saves. Only two goals managed to sneak past me.

We won.

The moment my eyes lock on her, a sizzle of electricity arrows through me, nearly singeing me alive. The sensation is almost enough to stop me in my tracks. There’s never been a girl who has affected me like this.

And it’s doubtful there ever will be again.

For as long as I can remember, there’s only been Fallyn.

She was my everything back then.

And she’s my everything now.

Her inky black hair is pulled up into a ponytail, allowing me to glimpse the graceful line of her neck. Images of kissing my way down the long column pop into my head. My mind tumbles back to the other day in the Mustang when I’d dragged her onto my lap and buried my face in the crook of it. She smelled so damn good.

That memory is enough to have my dick stirring to life.

A smile tugs at her lips as she cocks a hip and nods at the guy who’s chatting her up. The expression is like a gut punch. Almost enough to have me doubling over. It’s been way too long since she looked at me like that. Once upon a time, all her smiles had been reserved for me. It was like pure sunshine in a bottle, and all I wanted to do was bask in it.

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