Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

MADISON

Wow! My best friend has a date with the captain of the hockey team.

I shake my head at that revelation and head to the kitchen. It is a Friday night, and Amanda and I are studying. Correction. We were studying when an ominous text from Blake Morton arrived…

“Hold up. Is that Blake, as in the hockey team’s captain?” The question flew from my mouth when I glimpsed at her phone. Seeing his name shocked me, considering the team just got done playing. For him to text after a game—a winning game, no less—was suspicious.

“Uh, yeah.” She shifted in her seat, looking way too uncomfortable.

“Blake Morton is texting you. For real?” I leaned forward because this was too juicy, and I was not letting it go. “What does he want?”

Her little “Just dinner” didn’t cut it with me. After some pressing, she eventually spilled about the date.

And it’s not just any dinner. It’s at his parent’s house.

I don’t know what to think about that.

I toss a bag of popcorn into the microwave and fill a glass with water. Blake’s an all-right guy for the most part. I’ve known him my entire life, but I distanced myself from that group after what Ryan pulled back in high school. But without knowing Blake’s full intent, my Spidey Sense is on high alert. She says it’s just to throw his mother off his scent, which makes sense if what Becky told me over the summer was true, but I’m a little skeptical. I don’t want anyone hurting my friend.

Pulling the popcorn bag from the microwave, I shake it. There are too many unpopped kernels, so I toss it back inside and hit the add-a-minute button several times.

I should call Amanda out for holding out on me, but wouldn’t that make me a hypocrite? Ryan and I have had two late-night study sessions and have yet to tell her about them.

I usually don’t keep secrets from her, but I’ve been keeping the biggest one of my life. Trust isn’t the issue—Amanda’s as honest as the day is long, but I don’t want to place her in a situation that makes her uncomfortable, which will indeed happen when my parents visit.

Another reason is selfishness. She’ll bombard me with a million questions I’m not ready to answer. I’m unsure what the dynamic between Ryan and me even is. We fucked once and now study together. Sure, his weird offer to teach me “extracurricular activities” overshadows us, but it’s not as if I’m taking him up on that. I’m only helping because I do want to see him succeed despite our broken past. It’s just who I am.

Although I haven’t fully forgiven him, I can see his point. Our families are wrapped in a wicked legal battle.

And that brings me to the worst fear—my parents finding out about us. If my father was pissed about me entering an art contest, what would he do if he knew I spent time with the guy he forbade me to be with? I can’t take that chance, even if it means betraying my best friend. Ryan has way more to lose than me in this battle.

Cue the consuming guilt.

But at least the question of “Do they like each other or not?” got addressed. I flat-out asked about their relationship. She assured me it was platonic. When I pressed to make sure he felt the same, she nodded, stating there was nothing between them other than friendship. That eased my mind more than anything.

Because I cannot stop thinking about his confession about watching me.

Every chance he gets.

Shouldn’t that statement freak me out? If the words had come from anyone else but Ryan, they would have, but I can’t deny the thrill that shot through me when he said it.

I’m not even sure how to interpret what that means.

But it’s more than knowing he still likes me. I actually enjoy helping him study. The way his eyes light up when he solves a problem or gets the analogy pleases me. But he doesn’t stop there. He has this unique way of turning everything back to me. It’s as if he wouldn’t understand the concepts without my help. It makes me feel empowered knowing that he appreciates my efforts.

And I like pleasing him even after years of making him enemy number one.

I just don’t know how to process that revelation.

The microwave beeps, pulling me from my thoughts, but smoke barrels from the inside when I open the door.

Great.

I toss the burnt popcorn on the counter and wave my hands to disperse the smoke. One day, I will learn how to cook without burning everything.

This is Ryan’s fault. I’m so fucking consumed with him. Why can’t I get this guy out of my head? It makes zero sense. It’s as if he has taken up permanent residence in my mind, and I can’t evict him no matter how hard I try.

I sigh while emptying the charred popcorn into the trash. Instead of attempting another batch, I reach for an apple from the fruit bowl and bite into it more forcefully than necessary.

His crazy texts, like the one from this morning, don’t help.

Ryan: My cock is ready whenever.

What the fuck even is that? Is he so proud of his thick ass cock that he thinks he can use it as leverage?

I promptly replied, “In your dreams.”

But instead of staying angry, his response made me laugh.

Ryan: I meant as your lesson. I owe you.

Ryan: Though the dream is vivid and beautiful.

He’s ridiculous but, oh, so tempting. I couldn’t actually go through with it. Could I? Trade sex skills for helping him?

No, I don’t think I can. But it doesn’t stop this imagination of mine because, damn it, I never felt so full and, dare I say, satisfied as when he was inside me. He hit areas I never knew existed. It’s not as if I have that much experience with men, but I’ve heard enough women talk to recognize a rare gem when I find one.

And Ryan’s cock is definitely a national treasure.

Then there’s the fact that I want to shed my good-girl persona. He suggested a friends-with-benefits arrangement. I could be on board. Maybe. But can we do it without catching feelings? I feel like those things never actually work and end with someone getting hurt. I don’t want that someone to be me.

It’s coming down to a face-off, but will either of us win?

Amanda’s chuckle follows her from the hallway.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, glad for the disruption in my thoughts.

“Nothing. Trust me.”

I give her a coy look. “You’re not still texting with Blake, are you?” Worry underlies the slight tease in my tone, but she needs to watch herself.

“Maybe.”

“God, be careful around him. Trust me, you don’t want to get deeper than you already are.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Our heads jerk toward the door.

“Expecting someone?” I ask.

“I didn’t think he was serious,” she mutters.

I waste no time and race to the door. Surprise, surprise. There stands Blake Morton.

“Hey, Blake. What are you doing here?” I don’t even try to hide the tease in my voice.

His tall, bulky frame fills the door as he stands, wearing a lopsided grin. Confidence oozes from him. He is undoubtedly handsome with his disheveled dark hair and light stubble, but I prefer a more kept, slightly lighter shade of brown hair and gray eyes. Ryan’s just as tall but has a more lean, muscular build. The same strong hands and fingers that pressed into my skin as he…

Jesus, what am I thinking? Get it together, Madds.

“I’m here to collect my date.” Blake’s eyes shift from me to Amanda. I follow his gaze, fully expecting to see her enamored, but she is… oh, boy. She doesn’t appreciate that comment. I applaud. I never knew her to be so feisty.

After a few barbs, Blake convinces her to leave with him. I’m still skeptical about his intentions, and the look I give her screams as such. She shrugs it off.

I need to get to the bottom of this.

Once they leave, I grab my phone without thought and text Ryan.