6. Winter

Later,I stepped out of the shower and saw that my forehead had recovered a little from its rough treatment last night. I got dressed and dried my hair, putting on makeup while listening to music and thinking about the end of the year. The first half of freshman year was over. Selena was all excited about the new year and full of things she wanted to do, while I felt oddly flat. I had nothing to look forward to, or that's how it felt, anyway. Avoiding that feeling was a constant battle.

I went downstairs in my new red-soled heels, a birthday present from my mother.

Dad was in the kitchen, already dressed in a tux. Distinguished and dashing, he read a paper at the kitchen counter, an open bottle of Macallan Estate Reserve sitting next to an empty glass.

"You're still home? I'd have thought you'd have a New Year's thing going on somewhere else," I observed, pouring myself a glass of water.

Dad checked his watch. "I'm taking the jet to New York in an hour."

"Right." Of course.

Dad gave me a fright by putting the paper down and slapping the front page. "This is exactly what I'm talking about."

"What are you reading?" I wondered.

"Why, the Harbor Herald, still a damn fine publication."

What the hell?I leaned over and got an eyeful of the very paper I'd brought in from the car. Selena had left it there when I'd given her a ride home.

"Single-parent household, immigrant mother, crawling his way up through sheer determination and talent. That's the American dream right there." His fingers tapped the image of Asher on the front page. I blanched at the sight of his face right there in my kitchen, under my dad's hand.

"Yeah, I guess." I mumbled noncommittedly. I might be more impressed by Asher if I didn't have such a recent experience of his wicked insanity.

"So, how did the birthday girl enjoy her big night?" Dad picked up his crystal tumbler, only to realize it was empty.

I took it from him and poured him another generous measure. "It was wonderful to see you and Mom," I said diplomatically. I wish it had just been us, without Duncan and Trent. I knew without speaking that my dad wouldn't take that well.

Dad nodded. "Yes, I admit, I've been busier lately than I'd like. What do you say to having me around more?"

"That would be great," I replied quickly, trying hard not to get excited. We'd been down this road a lot of times before. Dad would promise to come home more, and maybe even stick to it for a month or two, before getting too busy again.

He nodded. "I need to be here, for you, and your mother."

I didn't bother pointing out that she was gone more than he was.

"Also, keeping up with Invictus H.H Group. As you get older, the more you appreciate friends who knew you when you were younger." Dad seemed introspective today, which wasn't like him at all. "Trent was very taken with you last night," he added, watching me carefully for my reaction.

I paled, the blood feeling like it was draining rapidly from my head. "He was?"

Dad nodded again. "Yes. He couldn't stop talking about how beautiful and clever you've grown up to be. Duncan was very impressed, as well. You are exactly the kind of girl he would consider a suitable daughter-in-law, you know." Dad was smiling at me like this was supposed to be good news. "Trent wants to ask you out. I said I'd test the waters first. My little girl's happiness comes first, after all."

I clenched my hands into fists. This felt like a test of some kind. My affection for my dad and the need to never disappoint him warred with my natural instinct to reject the vilest guy I'd ever met.

"Trent reminds me a lot of myself at his age," my father continued.

Holy fuck. What was I supposed to say now?

"So, what do you say to dinner between you two?" he prompted.

I stood there, scrambling for an excuse that wouldn't upset him.

"I can't. I have a boyfriend," I blurted. The words left me in a mad rush. I didn't even stop to think about how crazy or false they were.

Dad leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "You do?"

I bobbed my head quickly.

"I had no idea. I suppose I haven't been around long enough to find out. And last night you said you weren't dating anybody, but maybe you weren't ready to share the news." His tone was regretful. "And who is this young man?"

Good question.

"Just someone from HHU. He's in my year."

Dad chuckled. "I'm going to need a name. He needs to be good enough for my princess."

I cast about for a damn name. I'd never dated anyone at school, and I couldn't choose one of my previous dates my parents had set me up with; it would be too easy to disprove.

Then, like fate had put that damn newspaper right there in front of me, just when I needed a name, my eyes lit on the black-and-white photo.

"It's Asher. Asher Martino."

Dad blinked at me and glanced down at the paper. "What, this kid?"

I nodded, further damning myself. "Yeah, him."

A smile broke out over Dad's face. "Well, that's good news. I know you've never really gotten along with the guys we've set you up with, boring bankers just like your dad. And you like this Asher Martino?"

I swallowed past a dangerously dry throat and nodded.

"He treats you well, like the princess you are?"

I nodded again. Right, if you exclude bullying me, spanking me, and cutting my hair, it's a goddamn fairy tale.

"Well, this is all very exciting. I want to know more, but I have to get to the airstrip. Then I've got to be in Tokyo in two days. I'll have to hear all about Mr. Hockey next time."

"That's okay. I get it. Don't worry about me." I managed a smile and walked with him to the door. My insides felt like a melted candle. What the hell have I done?

"Darling, when I get back in a few weeks, invite your boyfriend to dinner. I want to meet this young man." Dad gave me a warm smile before picking up his bags and turning his attention to his driver, who was waiting at the door.

"Sure."

He kissed me on the cheek, and then he was leaving. It was a sight I was more than familiar with.

I watched him go, heart sinking. I had a horrible feeling I'd just dug my own grave.

Shit.

The New Year's party was being thrown by Beckett Anderson, the only guy in town whose father was richer than mine. He was an Ice God, so therefore a bully and obsessed with hockey.

Selena drove us to the party. She liked to have her own ride there so she could leave at any moment. We pulled up at the gates of Cliff Point, a completely over-the-top mansion perched on top of an actual cliff. They swung in, and we drove inside. The party was already in full swing, with people all over the massive driveway and front lawn. The entire place was lit up like a Christmas tree. Considering that Colette Anderson, Beckett's stepmother, had just passed away in a freak car accident a few months before, the party seemed in poor taste, but I'd never gotten the impression they were close.

Selena parked and jumped out of the car. I followed her slowly. I couldn't get the conversation with Dad out of my head. He was expecting a dinner with a boyfriend in a few weeks. Not just any boyfriend. Asher.

Asher who hated me. Asher who I'd just gotten fired. Asher who seemed to take twisted pleasure in tormenting me. That Asher.

Inside the party, it seemed Beckett had pulled out all the stops. Or, more likely, he'd let his girlfriend, Eve, plan whatever she wanted. Eve Martino and Beckett Anderson were a match no one had seen coming, least of all Asher, but even I couldn't deny they belonged together.

He'd even saved her from all that unsavory business with the rapist professor a few months ago.

The huge living room was packed with people. Music so loud it rattled my teeth.

"Let's get a drink!" Selena shouted in my ear.

I nodded. I was going to need something to take the edge off life. We had just entered the kitchen when I saw him. He drew my gaze like a magnet.

He was standing with Beckett, the two of them talking, while Marcus, a third Ice God, set up a game of flip cup.

He was wearing a black T-shirt under a leather jacket. His dark, unruly hair was pushed back from his forehead, and his piercing dark eyes turned to mine and latched on, refusing to let go.

Sure, Asher was hot. Really fucking hot. The hottest guy in school, without a doubt, but he was clearly insane. You wouldn't know it from looking at him. At 6'2", with the build of a top athlete, his dark wavy hair and tanned skin, soulful brown eyes, and chiseled jaw would distract even the most astute observer. He drew eyes wherever he went, though, interestingly, had never been linked to any one girl. Gossip was low on Asher Martino, as far as the high school dating game had been concerned. The only Ice God whose conquests were gossiped about was Marcus.

Add in Asher's dangerous aura of boy from across the tracks, the tattoos that adorned his arms and the backs of his hands, and his attitude — one minute, devil-may-care, the next protective and dashing — and he was a guy people hungered for gossip on. There wasn't any.

His lip turned up at the corner as he took me in, gaze scanning over my forehead, searching for traces of his word. An annoying reminder of how he'd won our little tussle last night.

I held my middle finger up to him. It wasn't a game I wanted to play with him, but I certainly wasn't going to let him think he'd won it. He chuckled across the room, and I looked away and followed Selena toward the bar.

"Wow, a signature cocktail and everything. No one does New Year's Eve like Beckett." Selena sighed.

"I think this has Eve's touch all over it." I took one of the apple martinis and sipped it. It was perfectly tart and crisp.

"Seriously?" Selena wrinkled her nose and set down her fine-stemmed glass. "Lording her luck in the dating department over all of us."

"Now, now, sour grapes don't taste half as good as this drink," I admonished. "Anyway, I think it's more than dating…I'm pretty sure those two are endgame."

"Whatever," Selena muttered. She glanced down at her glass, seeming abashed for once. "I guess that's nice for them. Eve's set for life, and Beckett is punching above his weight, so…"

I knew she felt guilty for her part in what had happened to Eve at a party a few months ago. Selena had slipped a powerful laxative into her drink as a hazing dare, or so she'd thought. It hadn't turned out to have the effect that she'd thought it would, and Eve had gotten sick. Luckily, Beckett had been on hand to keep her safe.

Selena was capable of a lot of things, but drugging a girl's drink so something terrible would happen to her wasn't one of them. Slipping her a laxative that gave her an uncomfortable night in the bathroom to get into Zeta Pi Nu — that was absolutely something she'd do.

Selena tucked her hair behind her ear. "I mean, really, I brought them together, in some ways."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for the thank-you card," I remarked dryly.

She nodded and looked over at the game the guys were setting up. "Let's go and play."

She took off before I could protest. Ugh. The last thing I was planning on doing was talking to Asher. I got another drink and found a barstool to perch on.

I was between a rock and a hard place. I had no guy friends, and I couldn't trust just anyone with pretending to be my boyfriend so Dad wouldn't set me up with Trent. I could just tell Dad I felt uncomfortable around Trent. I considered it for all of two seconds. Dad had already told me how much he liked him, his best friend's son, and besides, then I'd have to confess to lying about the boyfriend. I hated to lie to Dad. It was the worst feeling in the world. I could just imagine his disappointment.

The party wore on, and I followed Selena out to the pool house later and watched the party move around me. I felt odd and out of place, disjointed and awkward. It was nothing new. Ever since that day as a kid, trembling in the pantry, I'd understood how people could smile, and look you in the eye, and still lie. The things I thought I'd known had fallen away and I was lost, crippled by my own fear of being taken advantage of. I was alone, willingly, because at least that way, I had my pride. It was the only thing I had left.

Until last night…last night, I'd lost even that, but it hadn't felt like I'd always imagined it would. It hadn't felt like anything I'd ever felt before. One thing was certain, every interaction I'd ever had with Asher Martino felt like it had left a mark, and it was only escalating. Staying away from him was clearly the wisest choice, but how the hell I reconciled that with telling my father he was my boyfriend, I had no idea. I was screwed. I watched the party, the time counting down toward midnight.

A new year. I should probably feel more excited about that prospect.

Selena had wandered off somewhere, I had no idea where, but it wasn't with Asher or Marcus, because they were playing pool at the other end of the room. Every now and again, Asher's eyes found mine, and it was like I'd stuck my fingers in an electric socket.

A couple of the hockey players were playing drinking games and getting rowdy. It was getting closer and closer to midnight. I looked at my phone and zoned out, trying to ignore my spiraling panic.

"Winter, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Marcus Bailey, fourth Ice God and major flirt, slung an arm around me, having lost at pool, as far as I could tell, and nearly dragged me off my seat.

"Hi, Marcus." I managed a weak smile. Why hadn't I given Marcus' name? I could have gotten him to agree to help. Probably. Maybe.

"You're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with us, right?" he asked.

I shook my head resolutely. I was over high school games even in high school. Marcus was always the ringleader when it came to ridiculous games.

He tutted. "Too bad, because your name is in there, and it just got pulled."

"I'm not playing, Marcus."

"Yes, you are, come on, don't be a spoilsport."

Selena came into the room holding balloons and poppers. I checked my watch. The countdown was about to start. A huge flat-screen was showing Times Square footage, and everyone gathered around it.

"Fine, whatever, find me later," I muttered to Marcus, mostly just to get him to leave.

Midnight came closer, and the room counted down loudly, exploding into cheers and hugs.

"Happy New Year, bestie!" Selena grabbed me and held me in a tight hug.

"Happy New Year!" I smiled back.

I caught Eve's eye, and she reached out and hugged me. It was nice. Her friend, Lily, the coach's daughter, was right there, her loyal superstar hockey forward boyfriend, Cayden West, standing at her shoulder.

"Happy New Year, Winter." Lily smiled.

I hugged her awkwardly. Isabelle, their friend and a reporter for the school paper, lingered nearby. She smiled at me, then her eyes flickered over my shoulder to someone, and her cheeks flooded with heat.

Cayden reached over me and fist-bumped someone right behind me.

I didn't have to turn to know who it was.

A hand slid into my back pocket and pinched my ass hard. I bit down a gasp and refused to spin around. Isabelle was blushing for all she was worth. It looked like someone had a crush on Asher. Well, she could get in line. The left-winger had a dedicated fan club. One I'd never be in.

"Happy New Year, Ice Queen."

His voice raked across my nerves, and I shivered. His hand was still in my jean pocket, but no one could see since my back was crushed against his front.

He tugged me back when I tried to step forward, using my pocket to hook me. I fell into his chest, and his other hand gripped my hip and swiveled me round.

He was so close I could smell him. He smelled ridiculously good. The kind of clean, sporty male scent that cologne companies spent billions trying to capture and never could.

Play nice, Winter. Don't make your relationship worse.

My annoying inner voice reminded me that I might need this maniac's help. I took a deep, steadying breath and looked up, hitting him with a smile.

"Happy New Year, Martino."

Ash raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you've got?"

I shrugged. "I'm turning over a new leaf. It's my New Year's resolution to be nice to the insane and troubled. Get better soon, okay?" I patted his arm. Damn. That wasn't really playing nice, but he just brought it out in me.

He chuckled. "There's the little brat I know and loathe. Had your New Year's kiss?"

I tossed my hair and rolled my eyes. Maximum brat setting. "Grow up, Martino."

His eyes darkened and a familiar wicked tilt hit his lips. He was going to kiss me. He wasn't stopping at last night's punishment. I couldn't have said if I was excited or scared at the thought, even if someone had held a gun to my head. I just didn't know.

"Who's got to grow up?" A loud voice demanded, breaking the spell.

An arm hooked around my neck and Asher's and pushed our heads closer. My cheek glanced off his mouth as we were smashed together. I pushed against his chest, struggling to break free until the pressure was suddenly gone.

"What the fuck, Bailey? You want to give us both concussions to start the year?" Asher demanded from his friend.

Marcus was the joker of the Ice Gods, though I often wondered what dark secrets hid under his jovial exterior. It was a well-known fact that his brother was in a motorcycle club and his dad was in jail.

"Just trying to help you guys get ready for your turn. We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven in the other room." He held up two slips of paper, each one with our scribbled names on it. "Winter got pulled right before midnight, so you'd better come along with me. Your mystery kissing partner is already waiting for you."

"Are you serious?" I complained.

"You agreed, don't forget," Marcus reminded me.

"Fine, whatever," I huffed, avoiding Asher's eyes. It wasn't like I wanted to stand there and argue with him, anyway. I might as well use the excuse to escape, and then I could tell whoever thought I was going to kiss them for seven minutes to keep their lips to themselves.

"This way, gorgeous." Marcus grinned and tugged me toward the hallway.

I followed him, my hand tucked in his. Asher's eyes stared a hole into the side of my face as I left.

He led me upstairs. "The best dark tight space is the walk-in closet," he said over his shoulder. "Many a couple has been made in here tonight," he continued.

I followed, pulling a face at the imagery. The walk-in closet? I didn't like small spaces, not one bit. Thanks to Tilda and that day in the pantry, I hated small, enclosed rooms. My breath grew faint at the thought.

We got to the bedroom, the yawning black hole of a walk-in closet beckoning. Who the hell did Marcus have in there?

"Wait—," I started, backpedaling.

"Come on, Winter, don't be shy," Marcus said, clearly guessing I was having second thoughts. He pushed me toward the closet and shoved me inside.

"Marcus!" My cry fell on deaf ears. Marcus had wrenched the sliding door shut and jammed it closed.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked.

I maneuvered around to see a random guy I barely knew standing inside. He was on the hockey team, though, I knew that. There was enough light falling through the slats in the doors to see him.

"Fine. Chase, is it?"

He clapped a hand to his chest. "You wound me. I'm president of your fan club, and you're not even sure of my name."

"We don't have to play this stupid game," I pointed out.

He laughed. "I'm only playing it because Marcus promised me you."

"Well, that's weird and creepy."

"Really? Shit, I was going for suave," Chase said.

He was handsome, I could admit it, and it was obvious that he usually got a very different reception from girls. Despite that, he did nothing for me. Apparently, I only got hot and bothered by the criminally insane. Suddenly the thought of standing in the semidarkness for seven whole minutes with this stranger was excruciating. My breath was growing faster, and the air felt thin. Panic was pushing in.

I turned around and knocked on the door.

"Marcus, open the door right now! I've changed my mind," I called, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt.

My eyes adjusted, and I could make out Chase more clearly, lounged against the wall at the opposite end of the tiny space. "Relax, we can just run out the clock and make small talk. What's your favorite color? Mine's blue."

"Seriously?" I demanded, about to bang again when the door slid open.

But it wasn't Marcus at the threshold. Not at all.

"I've got it from here," Asher said. His body took up the entire opening. He jerked his head toward Chase. "Out."

"Yes, sir," Chase mocked, saluting Asher like he was a drill sergeant. He pushed past him and out into the bedroom.

I moved toward the door, needing air, but Asher blocked my way, backing me into the enclosed space again. He barked over his shoulder, "Lock the door. Seven minutes."

The last thing I saw was Marcus' face, split in a wide grin, before he closed the door, locking us in, alone.

"No! I want out," I panted.

I backed away from the door. The air felt suffocating and tight. My back came up against a rack of clothes, stopping my retreat. Suddenly, the solid, hot presence of Asher emerged from the darkness before me, standing close enough that his chest brushed mine. My nipples pebbled immediately.

"Tough shit." Asher's voice was as yielding as a steel trap.

"What the hell is all this about?" I demanded, curling my hands into fists and trying to breathe without hyperventilating.

"You don't get a romantic New Year's kiss with someone considerate and into you."

"Why not?" I bit out. "Jealous?"

A low chuckle floated to me. "I'd rather have my dick bitten off by a rabid dog than compete with your gold-plated vibrator. Simply put, you fucked up my life, and now it's my turn to fuck up yours."

"Like I can't just go find Chase and kiss him any time I want," I slipped out. Through my escalating panic, fighting with Asher gave me something else to focus on.

He nodded. "Go right ahead. Next time it won't be a marker but a tattoo gun."

A shot of fear laced down my spine. I opened my mouth to speak, and he tutted softly. "I wouldn't dare me not to if I were you. It hasn't worked out well for you so far."

I bit my lip. Fuck, he was so infuriating.

"You're absolutely loathsome, you know that?" I settled for saying.

"And you're a spoiled brat. We've covered this."

There was no way I could convince Asher to pretend to be my boyfriend, not even for one dinner with my father. He wouldn't agree. Why would he help me? He was out to get me.

God, why did it have to be him?

"Why did what have to be me?" Asher said.

Fucking hell. I'd said that out loud?I was glad it was dark in the damn closet so he couldn't see my panicked expression.

"Nothing. Forget what I said," I muttered, backing away from him as far as I could.

The bastard followed. "No, you can tell me what you were talking about."

I shook my head resolutely and folded my arms over my chest. Asher's chest pressed against my arms as he caged me against the wall.

"Come on, Ice Queen, you got something ask me? Ask away…all I can do is laugh at you."

"Or tattoo ‘brat' on my forehead," I said through gritted teeth.

He chuckled like it was funny. "You're not getting out of here until you ask me, so ask away."

I blew out a long breath and leaned my head back against the wall. What did I have to lose at this point?

I took a deep breath and leaped. "How badly do you need money?"

Asher's energy changed from curious to pissed off. "You want to know much your bitch act cost me? How low my bank account is?"

"No. I mean, I had an idea, something that would benefit us both," I forced out.

"And what kind of deal do you imagine I'd be interested in making with you?" His voice dripped with disdain.

"I'd pay you whatever you asked."

Asher was quiet for a long moment. I had no idea what he was thinking.

"And in return?" he asked silkily. There was something dangerous in that tone.

God, was I really going to do this?I was. I had no choice.

"In return, you pretend to be my boyfriend."