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We trudged across campus. The grounds were mostly empty because of the awful weather, so we only passed a few other people on our way across the quad.
When we stepped onto the main path that led to the library, heading for the Java Junction next door, the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. I turned my head over my shoulder to see if anyone was looking in our direction, but there was no one around. The only movement on the path behind us was a dead leaf blowing across the cobblestones.
“Sienna?” Tate stopped short. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just thought…” I trailed off and turned back around, shaking my head. “Never mind.”
We kept walking, and my skin kept prickling. I ignored the strange sensation, figuring it was from the cool weather, but when I briefly turned my head a moment later, I realized we weren’t alone out here after all.
Paxton was standing by a column near the front of the library.
Watching me.
Paxton
Frat party liquor was rarely high-quality, top-shelf stuff, but that wasn’t really the point of it. It was there so everyone could get good and drunk; numb themselves from whatever shit they had going on in their lives.
The cup of cheap whiskey in my hand was doing its job well enough, cloaking my mind in a much-needed sense of calm. I leaned casually against the wall and watched the unfolding spectacle of a beer pong game nearby, eyes tracing the trajectory of each throw.
The room filled with cheers and playful smack-talk between the participants, reminiscent of the electric atmosphere at the arena last night. We’d won our first game of the season, finishing at 4-3, but for some reason, I didn’t feel the usual sense of pride and jubilation as everyone around me whooped and shrieked. All I felt was the wrath and turmoil that had taken over my soul the second Sienna Holland waltzed back into my life.
I’d never forgotten her—how the fuck could I ever do that?—but over the years, I’d used a variety of mechanisms to dim the memories enough to stop me from totally losing my shit. Sex. Alcohol. Ice time. Fighting. It all helped. But the second Sienna returned, the dark memories grew in my mind all over again, wild and uncontrolled like a weed, taking over everything.
Every waking minute, she was spinning around in my head, throwing fuel on the fire of my rage. She kept showing up around me in person, too. Outside lecture theaters I’d just exited. At the café I liked near the library. Even at the fucking arena, which was supposed to be my domain.
But hey, at least she was making it easy to keep track of her.
I looked down into my cup, at the last remaining finger of liquid, and knocked it back. When I looked back over at the beer pong table, a familiar figure caught my eye. Petite frame with a perfect heart-shaped ass accentuated by a skintight gray dress. Thick, hip-length wavy brown hair.
Sienna. Someone must’ve invited her to the party.
A mix of anger and surprise washed over me; the same feeling I had last night when I spotted her behind the plexiglass. I had no idea why she’d decided to attend yet another game. She never cared much about hockey back in the day. I’d be surprised if she even knew what a fucking puck was. So what the hell was she playing at?
Her unwanted presence in the arena actually made me play better than usual, out of sheer fury. I pulled off some of the filthiest one-on-one moves I’d ever managed and scored three of my team’s four points. Then, at the end, when we were all going around tapping on the plexiglass to acknowledge the fans, I banged extra loud on the glass near Sienna’s seat, just to see how she’d react. She instantly dropped her gaze, cheeks flushing pink. The expression of pure shame on her face brought me more triumph and joy than winning a game ever did.
I had to say, though… I preferred that look on her face even more when she was moaning and dripping all over my fingers.
I blinked, and the girl across the room turned around, flashing a smile at someone as she lifted her hand in a flirtatious wave. It wasn’t Sienna after all. She just resembled her from behind.
She noticed me looking at her, and her lips quirked into a smile. I quickly dropped my gaze, not wanting her to think that I wanted to be approached. Too late. She’d mistaken my stare for interest, and now she was slinking over to my spot by the wall.
“You’re Paxton, right? Paxton Cole?” she said, putting her shoulders back so her tits looked even bigger.
“Uh-huh.”
She stuck her hand out. “I’m Raquel.”
“Nice to meet you,” I muttered, briefly shaking her hand.
“I heard you’re a business major,” she said, cocking her head. “Is that true?”
“Yup.” Please take the fucking hint and leave me alone, I silently implored the universe.
“We’ve probably had a few of the same classes. I’m doing international relations.”
“Hm.” I nodded curtly. “Sounds interesting.”
Raquel moved her other hand to her chest, scratching at an itch that conveniently happened to be right above her cleavage. “Anyway… you were great at the game last night,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “What was that move you made right before you scored that point? It was cool.”
