With long, purposeful strides, he makes his way to the right side of the room where the bar curls around into a small lounge area with leather couches and a dartboard. There’s a murmur that goes through the crowd as he passes, and when he walks by a group of girls, they call out his name and send him finger waves. The redhead from the party—he called her Veronica—jumps up and follows him. He sort of drags her along with him as he takes a stool and orders something from the bartender that looks like a soda. She takes a seat next to him, talking animatedly, her hands brushing at his shoulders as if she’s picking imaginary lint off his clothes. He gives her a stern look and eases away.

As if he senses he’s being watched, his grey eyes look in the mirror on the back wall behind the bar and lock with mine.

He arches a brow. Well, well, well, says his pleased expression.

I feel a slow blush rising on my face. You’d think I’d be used to the way he looks at me, but I’m not.

Taylor lets out a little whistle. “That man is staring a hole through you.” He brushes at his hair, fluffing the ends. “How do I look?”

Poppy giggles. “Keep dreaming, Taylor.”

He clutches his chest. “You’re breaking my heart.”

They continue their banter, but I tune them out.

Z turns around, away from the bar, and my heart thumps with every second it takes for him to face me.

Tonight his jawline is scruffier, the dark beard in contrast to the caramel-blond highlights in his hair, and I think about how he got those lighter strands. I imagine they’re probably leftover from a summer spent at some exotic location. I picture him on some big fancy sailboat or a yacht with tanned girls in bikinis flanking him on either side.

Protect your heart, a voice says.

My phone pings with a text and I fumble around in my purse, pulling it out.

Hey, fake girlfriend. Want to rescue me from this girl?

My mouth quirks up and I raise my head to watch as he takes a sip of his drink with those eyes leveled at me.

Handle her yourself, is my reply. You seem to know her well enough.

I went to prep school with her. Trust me, not interested. Jealous already?

I look up and he’s grinning at me even as she’s trying to get his attention.

I once had a puppy who yipped like that, I send.

Please come to me, Miss Ryan.

Come to me. His words are intoxicating and I inhale a sharp breath. Poppy looks from me to him then squints. “He’s really focused in on you.”

“He’s intense,” I murmur, thinking back to the Kappa house.

She takes a sip of her martini. “Dang, he’s so damn hot.”

“Amen,” Taylor says softly. “Watching him stare at you is almost as good as watching Khal Drogo and Daenerys eye-fuck each other. Shit, love, go get your fake boyfriend before those bitches do. Ask and you shall receive.”

Fine, fine, fine.

I can do this. I’m not sure why I’m so anxious anyway. It’s just pretend. I gulp down the rest of my tequila and stand up.

A slow, knowing, sexy smile settles on Zack’s face.

14

Zack

After an intensive practice and dinner in the athletic cafeteria, the guys and I head to the Tipsy Moose. I park and they get out while I stay in the car for a few minutes, practicing my deep breathing. There’s an anxious pit of worry in my gut about our upcoming game. Sure, we won our last one, but the next opponent is a tougher team, which means more pressure. Even with the loss to Minnesota-Duluth, we’re still ranked at number five, and that brings its own kind of pressure with trying to stay there.

Another nightmare hit this morning at four. Knowing I couldn’t go back to sleep, I went for another run then circled back to the house exhausted and worn out. Then at practice, I gave up several faceoffs, and that shit never happens. I’m the fastest one out there, but you wouldn’t know it by the way I played today. I rub at my wrist, nursing the bruise I got from a defenseman’s clean check when I cut in front of him to push the puck in. Instead he slammed me into the wall and I landed wrong.

After a few minutes, I’m feeling more centered and walk inside. Eric and Reece and some of the guys are at the dartboard, and I make my way to the bar to meet up with Boone, one of our freshman players who I’m mentoring. All the seniors get a “little brother” and he’s mine, a talented center from Chicago. Veronica sees me and follows, asking about Eric’s birthday party and what decorations I think would work. I tune her out, telling her she can do whatever she wants, and Boone joins shortly after.

A tingling sensation washes over me as I sit here, and I look up to the mirror then pause mid-sentence.

Sugar.

A few teasing texts later, I watch as she gets out of the booth and faces me.

The first thing I notice tonight is how long her legs are, the way her leggings cling to her voluptuous curves. I’m discovering something new about her each time I see her. My gaze lingers on her tits, and for the hundredth time, I wonder what she’d look like splayed out on my bed naked.

“Sheee-it. Nice rack,” Boone says appreciatively, his gaze following mine.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say, not taking my eyes off her. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

I sense him stiffening. “Okay.”

She toys with a piece of her ponytail as if she’s nervous, and her hands fall to her sides when she straightens her shoulders—as if preparing for war—and walks toward me. She doesn’t want this thing we have. I see it in the way she walks, her steps unsure, and at one point she stops in front of a pool table and pivots back around toward her table. But, after a moment, she does a pirouette and marches forward, a look of resolve on her face.

It makes my smile deepen. She’s just a tiny bit intimidated by me when she’s the one who’s got me by the balls.

I’m going to make her mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Chick’s an Amazon. I like those legs.” He whistles under his breath.

“I won’t tell you to shut up again, Boone. I’ll just plant my fist in your face next time. She’s off limits.”

He holds his hands out to placate me. “Fine, fine. I get it now—she’s yours and you’re a little territorial.”

Not normally.

But her…

Veronica, who’s been texting, has finally stopped long enough to figure out I’m distracted. She turns and watches Sugar approach, her brittle gaze raking over her.

“Reece said she was at your house—with pie. That’s weird. Who brings pie to a guy’s house?” I feel her bristling.

“She’s a nice girl. Don’t be a bitch,” I say.

She inhales a breath. “Me? Why are you being an asshole?”

I sigh, looking over at her. She’s a pretty girl with sleek red hair, delicate features, and big green eyes. Her parents died two years ago in a private plane crash, and she hasn’t been the same since. I get grief, I really do, but she needs to step off when it comes to me.

“This girl isn’t one of those jersey chasers you toy with. Leave her alone.”

Confusion flashes over her face. “You actually like her?”

My answer is silence and a raised eyebrow.

She sputters and crosses her arms. “She’s…not your type.”

“What is my type then?”

Her lips flatten. “Reece said she’s from the south. Does she even know the first thing about hockey?”

I bark out a laugh. “I don’t even care. She probably likes football.”

She searches my gaze and gives me a triumphant look. “She’s just like all the rest.”

My gaze sharpens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her giggle grates on my nerves. “Oh, come on, Z. Your heart is cold as ice. You go from one girl to the next, and I don’t even think you remember their names. She’ll be gone in a few weeks and a new one will come along.”

It won’t be you, my face tells her.

I lean in, keeping my voice low so no one can hear me. “I’ve been cutting you slack for a while, putting up with how you boss girls around, and that’s cool. I can deal with that, but don’t keep wishing it was you on my arm. I’m not interested. I can’t say it any plainer. I know you’ve managed to wrap Reece around your finger this past year, but don’t fuck with him. Don’t hurt him.”

Her eyes search mine until she drops my gaze. There’s a quiver in her lips, but she sucks it up and juts her chin out. “I wouldn’t do that. We’re all just friends. I adored Willow, and I know everything you went through after she died. I was there for both of you.”

She was there, but not in a helpful way. No one was.

I study her. “Reece cares about you, Veronica. Do the right thing and either be with him for real or cut him loose.”

She swallows and looks over at the dartboard, her gaze landing on him.

“Go to Reece.”

“Because she’s coming over here?” Her eyes glare at Sugar, who’s almost to us.

“Because I want her.”

She stands up from the stool and sniffs, and I watch as she saunters over to my brother and throws her arms around his waist. He turns and looks down at her, a flash of adoration on his face before he gives her a kiss. Shit. I just want him to be happy.

Sugar stops in front of me, her gaze intelligent and blue, the color of a perfect summer sky with a hint of green.

I look at her, getting a read on her. I take it all in, the way she bites at her lower lip, her hand trembling ever so slightly as she plucks at the silver bracelets on her wrist. I inhale a deep breath and smell her, warm and sweet.

When I fuck her again—because I will—it’s going to be explosive.

Yeah, we have this boyfriend bargain, and I agreed to it. How could I not? It’s a chance to figure her out.