Page 45 of Devious Obsession
I nod emphatically. Really, I don’t give a shit where her roommate goes. But sure, if it means Aspen will stay.
Wait, why am I suddenly so eager for her to stay here?
“There’s an empty bedroom she can stay in.”
Aspen’s lips twitch. “And I can’t stay in that empty bedroom with her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re staying in here.” I tilt my head. “Do you want me to show you why?”
“I want you to apologize for making me feel like—”
I shake my head and step forward. She stands her ground, which is new. New-ish. Reminiscent of the summer version of the girl in front of me. I run my finger down her jaw, which is clenched, to her throat, to the top of the jersey. Her breathing hitches when I curl my fingers into it.
It’s the same way I held Maverick during our fight, keeping him in the right position.
But now I use it to drag Aspen into me.
Her chest hits mine, and her breath whooshes out of her.
“You look good in my jersey,” I say in her ear. “But you look even better out of it.”
“Maybe I should change, then,” she offers lightly. Fake lightly. She’s just as affected by my presence as I am by hers. “Or I can go put on a strip show downstairs—”
“If you do that, a handprint on your thigh isn’t the only thing you’ll be walking out of here with.”
She tips her head back and bites her lip. She reaches out and puts her hands on my chest. Her palms are hot, burning right through the thin fabric of my shirt.
“Promise?” she whispers.
12
ASPEN
Steele doesn’t stop me from leaving his bedroom. I’m in his jersey, after all, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s the only thing he cares about. He follows me downstairs, but he keeps his distance after that. Like he’s marked me as his, and now he’s done his job.
Thalia is in the kitchen, talking to Finch and Miles. She’s giggling, her hand on Finch’s arm. Poor guy seems like he’s never talked to anyone like her, because he’s giving her a wide-eyed puppy-dog expression that says,please have sex with me.
Eh. She once confessed that the best boyfriend she ever had was a virgin. They’re easier to train in the ways of women’s pleasure, I guess. So maybe she’s into the innocent vibes that Finch is throwing out. Although I saw him at Erik’s party over the summer, so maybe he’s notthatinnocent.
Miles has his gaze on someone else, although he’s indulging Finch and Thalia in conversation. I try to follow his line of sight to figure out who he’s watching, but there’s a sea of people in the room. Including his brother and Willow, Greyson and Violet, and more.
I step up to the keg and lift a cup.
“May I?”
I glance up at Miles. He’s holding his hand out for the cup, and I give it to him. He tilts it, pouring the beer without spilling a drop, and hands it back.
“Thanks. Did Steele get in trouble for the fight?” I ask him.
Miles smiles. “Nah. I think Coach told him to get over it, and sometimes you need to get over things with your fists.”
Interesting.
This is why hockey is such a fascinating, terrible sport. They use their fists to solve their problems. They hit each other, slam into the glass. It’s fast-paced, adrenaline-filled—
