15. Winter

The next day,I had back-to-back classes, cheerleading practice, and then the party where I'd promised Isabelle I'd get her an interview with important players on the team.

I still didn't have my damn portfolio, and I was also running out of time to make everyone believe that Asher was my boyfriend. My dad would be expecting that dinner soon. A whole week had passed since we'd started the game, and I felt no closer to winning.

It was time to consider owning up to the lie to my father. I hated the very thought of it. I rejected it with all my might. It was embarrassing and disappointing, especially since Dad had been so impressed by that article about Asher. Worst of all, I'd end up having to go out with Trent; I'd have no excuse not to.

I was in the locker room after cheer practice getting changed with the rest of the squad. I was dragging my feet, paralyzed with worry about my situation.

Selena sat on the bench beside me, chewing her fingernail. "So, it's still a no?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What the hell? I thought Asher just wasn't into me, but he won't even pretend to be your boyfriend and get paid?" Selena chuckled. "Maybe he's just not into women."

"I'm pretty sure that's not it. He doesn't want to lose. He's competitive as hell," I told her.

Selena raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you finally met your match. Whatever, just ask one of the football guys. They'll probably do it without getting paid." She waved her hand toward the football field outside.

"No, it has to be him," I said mulishly.

Selena raised a manicured brow at me. "Because?"

Because it's always been him. I swallowed that uncomfortable truth. "I already told my dad it was him. I can't turn around now and trot out someone else." I sighed, unmotivated to go and shower.

Selena studied me for a long moment. "Are you into him?"

"What? Of course not! He's annoying as hell, arrogant, morally superior, mean, fucking insane…" My cheeks heated up under her long gaze. "What?"

"You like him, don't you?" A grin spread. "Winter has a crush…finally."

"I do not have a crush."

"Yes, you do. You have a crush on the only guy to ever turn you down…the one person money can't buy."

I stood and rolled my eyes. "Whatever. This is boring, and I need to take a shower or we won't have time to eat before the party. You go home, see you there," I snapped at her.

"Okay, we'll talk more about your crush then!" Selena called gleefully and grabbed her bag.

She'd already showered and put makeup on, while I'd been wasting time and panicking.

I watched her walk away. Damn it. She wasn't going to let up now that she thought she finally had something to tease me about. I headed for the showers and washed quickly. A few minutes later, wrapped in a fluffy towel, I wiped the steam from one of the mirrors and stared at my reflection.

Was Selena right? Had I developed a crush on the guy who was determined to not have anything to do with me? The absentee daddy issues diagnosed themselves at this point. Had I had a crush all along, since that Parents' Day moment, when he'd drawn me so beautifully and shared his homemade food? Even if I couldn't eat it — the smell of cinnamon had been obvious as soon as I'd opened the box — I'd wanted to accept it.

It was the first time someone I wasn't paying had given me food. I'd lived a life eating at the most expensive restaurants around, but the simple act of sharing food, with someone who barely knew me, had broken a vital part of my defenses around Asher. Like a slow-acting drug, he'd entered my system, and taken it over.

The sound of the door shutting broke me out of my reverie. I wandered back to the lockers, expecting to see someone else changing, but the room was empty. I'd taken so long to get ready, the entire squad was done and gone.

Drying off briskly, I pulled open my locker and stared inside.

It was empty.

I closed it and checked the number. Was I so out of it that I'd put my stuff in the wrong locker? I tried a couple of others. Some were empty, the others were locked.

I went back to my usual locker and opened it again. This time, I saw it. Lying against the white metal was a thin white rope, tied in an intricate nautical knot.

Asher.Asher had been in here and taken all my stuff, from my clothes and shoes to my bag with my cell and keys.

He thought he could score points this way? I had a towel. I wasn't above going out in it and asking someone to get me some clothes. Besides, I didn't even have to do that. Luckily, I knew Selena's combination. I keyed it in and opened her locker.

On the bright side, there was an item of clothing she'd forgotten. Unfortunately, it was a football player's spare jersey. I pulled it on regardless. It was just long enough on me to hit mid-thigh. Shoes were a problem, but I wasn't above going into the hall in the jersey and begging someone to call Selena for me.

I strode toward the door, annoyance giving me energy. I pushed it, and it instantly stuck at an open angle. Caught by a big, tattooed hand.

Asher stood framed in the gap, waiting for me just outside the room.

My heart seemed to jump into my mouth, and I took a step back. He mirrored my movement, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind him.

His eyes landed on the jersey and suddenly seemed darker than usual.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" he asked silkily. There was a note of threat in that tone that thrilled me and scared me at the same time.

"What does it look like?" I wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Whose fucking jersey is that and where is he right now?" Asher advanced into the room. I backed up, heat working through me.

"Why? Jealous?" I asked breathlessly. The look on Asher's face was burning into my mind like a brand.

He didn't answer, and the skyrocketing tension pushed me to fill the tense silence.

"This is your move? Lame. This jersey covers more than my cheer uniform, so…" I rambled until he interrupted me.

"Yes," he said shortly.

He was still backing me through the locker room, and I had the feeling that if I took my eyes from his, all hope was lost. Like a panther closing in on you, losing eye contact would mean certain death.

"Yes, your move was lame?" I asked, confused. It was hard to think when he was looking at me like that.

He shook his head slowly. "Yes, I'm jealous," he clarified.

I stopped my slow escape, shocked into stillness. How was he able to turn me inside out so easily? He never said or did what I expected him to.

"What the hell?" I demanded, irrationally angry at him for making my heart flutter like a trapped butterfly in my chest.

"I said I'm jealous. I don't like seeing some other fucker's number on you. I really don't fucking like it, and it's not happening again. You want to wear someone's jersey, you wear mine."

"Yours wasn't an option, remember? The only reason I'm wearing this is because you decided to come in here and take my stuff," I reminded him.

He grinned, and it was so wicked, heat broke out across my face, a prickling awareness of how naked I was under the flimsy jersey, and how close he was.

"My mistake, Ice Queen. Now, I'm going to need that jersey before I decide to hunt down the guy whose name is on the back and put him out of commission this season." He held his hand out, like he really expected me just to give him my only covering.

"Very funny," I stated scathingly, walking backward all the while. "It's not even mine. I took it from Selena's locker." Suddenly, a lockable shower cubicle felt like the safest place to head toward.

"Still, I'm going to need that jersey, so hand it over," he said as he advanced.

"Yeah, right. I'm not taking it off," I stated with more confidence than I felt.

Asher's hand dipped into his pocket and emerged with that damn knife, the one that looked like it took a whole lot of experience to wield well. He opened it like an expert and lunged toward me.

I shrieked and turned, dashing toward the showers.

I almost made it.

I was only a few steps away when his arms closed around my waist and lifted me against his hard body. I fought him and opened my mouth to scream, but his hand clamped over my lips, sealing the sound inside.

"Shh, don't try and bring any football-playing meatheads in here to your rescue…this is between me and you, Your Majesty."

I wriggled against him, bucking and fighting for all I was worth, but he was so damn strong, there was no give in his grip. The jersey rode up, exposing my bare ass. I couldn't seem to care. All that mattered was not letting Asher win. Not giving up without a fight.

"So feisty. I don't know if we're making any progress with your brat behavior problem." He chuckled in my ear, putting me down and pressing my front to the tiled wall of the shower. A cutting sound followed by a loud tear filled the air. RIP football jersey. Confirmation came when he tugged the offending item off me, and the cool air of the room hit my overheated skin. I was pressed against the tile.

My tits were bare, and my nipples contracted sharply at the coolness of the tile. His hand was on the back of my head, keeping me in place, while he ruthlessly pulled the remains of the jersey off with the other.

Asher's huge hand moved to the nape of my neck, holding me to the wall. I sensed his eyes scanning over me – the small of my back, my ass, down my legs, and back up.

"Has anyone else ever drawn you, Ice Queen? You got some stuffy seated portrait at home somewhere?" His unexpected question threw me for a second.

"Go take a puck to the throat, Martino," I snarled at him and bit off a yelp when he pinched an ass cheek hard.

"I'd watch that mouth while I've got you here like this…all mine to do whatever the fuck I want with. Unless you're after another spanking?" His hand smoothed over the place where he'd pinched. "I'd bet this pretty creamy skin would look perfect wearing my handprint."

"What do you want?" I forced out, trying to shove away the wet heat that pooled inside me at his words, and touch. I'd die if he knew how much his rough treatment turned me on.

"Let's be clear. We can play whatever fucking games you want, but there's a line you don't cross. My mom is off-limits."

"What? What did I do to your mom?" I muttered and received another pinch to the other side of my ass. "Ow!"

"I like things to be symmetrical," he said like a true psychopath. He rubbed his palm over the sore place, replacing the sting with heat. What was it about his calloused hands that could hurt so masterfully, it made their gentle touch even hotter?

The pressure on my neck let up marginally, and I took a deep breath and tried to get my overheated thoughts straight.

"Don't lie to me, Ice Queen…Your PI was following my mom. She called me. You put a tail on my mom."

What the hell?

"I never asked for that," I shot out.

"But you did ask for someone to investigate my father. Why?"

I wet my lips, suddenly nervous as hell. But there was nothing I could say except the truth. "I wanted to convince you to help me. A few fake dates and you can have the resources to find your dad. Seems like a good deal."

He was silent for a long moment. "You want to help me find my dad?"

I nodded slowly. "If it'll make you help me, yes."

Asher studied me for a long moment and then brushed my hair back. "Little Ice Queen, so desperate to win all the time…What do you think will happen if you lose? The world won't end, you know."

"Maybe not, but my dad will know I lied to him," I fired off before I could stop myself.

Asher studied me. "And? Have you never disappointed a parent before? They get over it."

I snorted. "You don't know me, or my family, Asher. Maybe your experiences aren't universal." That statement felt far too vulnerable and marked a pretty good time to shut the fuck up. I bit my tongue and refused to let him see my face and the telltale burn in my cheeks, outing my embarrassment for oversharing.

He stroked the back of my head. It was oddly comforting.

"Ice Queen, you've got all kinds of issues going on in that pretty, complicated head of yours, don't you?"

"Go to hell," I snapped at him. I wasn't about to melt under his gentle touch. Not when he'd stripped me naked and was now stroking my hair like I was his badly behaved cat.

"You do know, it's okay not to be okay, or whatever crap they tell you in therapy."

I held my tongue. The last thing I needed right now was to be more vulnerable. I'd already showed my soft underbelly. One cruel blow was all Asher needed to crush me for real.

"You could be not okay with me. I don't give a fuck," he continued, and leaned in. His hot breath hit the top of my spine and moved along it. His lips traced silent words on my shoulder. "I don't care if you're crazy. I don't care if you're sane. It doesn't matter to me. I'd play with you anyway."

"How romantic," I managed to get out. "We can be the most touching love story of the psych ward together. Let me up, I'm freezing my nipples off."

"As you wish," he murmured, letting up his dominating grip on my nape. I twisted around, forgetting for a split second that I was naked. Naked. Asher was close, pressed into me from the hips down, so that was a win. There was no hiding my breasts, though. Those were exposed for his perusal, and he wasted no time in looking. My breath caught, and my cold nipples ached when he brought his hands up and cupped my breasts. His rough, calloused fingertips ran over the sensitive peaks. The heat was a delicious torment.

"Should I warm them up for you?" he murmured, already bending his head to my left tit. His hot mouth fastened around my nipple and my knees nearly gave out. His mouth was so hot, the shock of it on my cold skin was nearly too much. I held onto his shoulders as his tongue worked over the bud of my nipple, rolling and teasing it, nibbling and sucking. Turning me inside out, once again, just like always.

After long, painfully good moments had passed, he moved to the next one. The wall was the only thing keeping me up at this point. My hands were in his hair. The unruly dark waves had always been tempting. They were as springy and smooth as they'd always looked. I enjoyed running my fingers through them, scratching his scalp. A low moan in his throat told me I wasn't the only one enjoying it. What were we doing? Who was winning the game right now? Did it even matter?

He pulled back and I missed his touch immediately. Straightening up, he leaned in and my eyes closed, my head tilting back. When the kiss didn't come, I blinked at him. He was watching me, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Your PI will be getting in touch. I assume you're liable for his damages incurred on the job. Expect a bill for his ER visit, camera equipment, and car detailing."

The sudden change of subject threw me.

He stepped back and I grabbed for the towel I'd discarded earlier. Asher slowly reached out and took it from the bench, holding it behind him.

"First, what I came for…Say cheese," Asher murmured, just before he raised his other hand. He had his phone. The sound of a picture being taken was like a gunshot.

I glared at him, clamping an arm over my bare breasts and reaching for the towel. This time he let me have it. "What are you doing?" I demanded, wrapping it over my front.

He shrugged. "Seeing as you've decided to expand our game outside the confines of you and me…I'm going to need some kind of collateral. Involving my mom was a mistake, Your Majesty."

"I didn't mean that to happen."

"And now you won't forget, right?" he prompted, his voice annoyingly arrogant.

"Don't you want to find your dad? The PI is only doing what he has to, to get the information he needs. So, don't you want to find him? Be honest."

Asher was quiet for a long moment, and then shrugged. "I don't even know anymore. I'm not sure I want to know who he is, how he's lived, what kind of man I come from. What do you think about that?"

I wet my lips, words dying inside me.

His lips quirked bitterly. "It's cowardly, right? You can say it, Ice Queen, take the shot. I lined it up for you."

"It's not cowardly. It's honest. And being honest is brave…not that I have any personal experience with it…but I read it on the back of a cereal box one time, so it has to be true."

A beat passed where I thought that I'd judged his mercurial mood all wrong, and then he laughed. The booming sound made me smile, too. His laugh was infectious.

"Fuck, I needed that. You, Winter DeLaurie, are something else. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. No one is doing it like you," he muttered, confusing me more with his cryptic words.

"So, all this because the PI was tailing your mom? You could have just called me, I'd have made him stop," I sighed.

Asher nodded, and then shrugged. "But I wouldn't have this phenomenal photo on my phone, would I? You want to give me a big smile for one more? Become the leading lady of my spank bank for the rest of my natural life?"

He gave me a maddening smirk, and it was clear he thought he'd won this round. I just couldn't take it lying down.

Before I could question it, I dropped the towel and rested my back against the wall. Asher jerked like I'd slapped him. I flipped my hair back over my shoulder, letting him see it all. My bare breasts, my pussy…everything. Then I tilted my head to the side and gave him a saccharine-sweet smile, raising a hand to flip him off.

"Cheese," I deadpanned.

He stared at me, his gaze tracing my every curve and hollow. I should be embarrassed. I should be hiding. I should be feeling something other than heat pooling low in my belly. It was impossible, though. The look in Asher's eyes made it impossible. I'd shocked him, and that was a win I'd gladly take, but it was more than that.

He wanted me. There was no denying the hunger in his eyes, and that was a different kind of win.

"Come on, Martino, take the shot," I goaded him. "Let me live rent-free in your mind." Like you do in mine.

He studied me for a long moment, making no move to take a photo. Then he let out an exasperated chuckle and shook his head.

"I hope you understand what you're doing," he said tightly after a second. "I already told you that if you offered me anything, I'd take everything, and I don't think you're prepared for that."

"And if I am?" I challenged back.

Asher didn't answer, though. He simply bent down and grabbed something from the floor, spun on his heel, and walked toward the door.

"This doesn't mean that you've won!" I called after him.

"Doesn't it?" Asher tossed back and disappeared outside.

It took me a good minute to realize the fucker had taken my only towel with him.

A few days later, I was getting ready to go back to my parents' house to replenish my wardrobe when Selena came home. Thankfully, I had a huge closet at home stuffed with things that I barely had a chance to wear.

I'd been lucky that someone on the cheer team had forgotten something the other day and come back for it. She'd given me a spare outfit from her locker. I could have kissed her. My bag and all its contents had been left in my room. Asher, demonstrating that he was comfortable letting himself in and out of my private space without a second thought. The other thing he'd left had been on my pillow. I'd shoved it into my top drawer.

A pencil sketch of my profile.

It made my heart beat like a drum and my palms damp. He was driving me crazy. I wasn't going to be the same after this, I had a horrible feeling. This game we were playing was going to leave a mark.

Selena took in my stormy expression. "Oh no, what's Martino done now?"

"Nothing except be his contradictory self. I'm gonna head home for a while before the game." Going to Hellions matches in Asher's jersey had been the only way I'd scored a point so far.

"Are your parents home?"

"No. I just need to get some clothes. I can't keep borrowing your stuff, unfortunately."

"Did you get your portfolio back?" she wondered.

Damn it.I'd forgotten about it in my anger over the damn locker room thing. My frustration rose up and spilled out.

"Ugh! I can't catch a fucking break with this. He's winning, and I can't stand it." I sighed. "Is there something wrong with me?"

She nodded. "Shit tons, but not this…you're just competitive, and so what, it's not a crime." A slow smirk crept across her lips. "You know, if you really want to win, and make the entire campus believe you two are an item…I have an idea."

"You do? I'm out. I can't think of anything. Being around Asher has short-circuited my brain."

"I've got you. I need that jersey Eve lent you, though. Let's make waves."

"What are you going to do?"

"Announce your relationship to the world like only a budding influencer can." Selena grinned at me. "Think of you looking hot in Asher's jersey, hashtag girlfriend stuff, hashtag Hellions."

My breath caught. I knew the kind of post she was talking about. It would raise hell on the campus socials. It was a commitment to the lie. Asher would be pissed.

I suddenly felt so tired of worrying about this. So tired of avoiding Trent and the future a guy like that implied. So tired of all of it. I let myself fall back on my bed, spreading my arms out and just letting go. Could I really post that?

A creaking sound was the only warning I got before the bed frame crashed to the floor, taking me and the mattress with it.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?" Selena scrambled to her feet and peered over at me, then reached for my arm and pulled me up.

I stood up from the wreckage of my bed and a nearly hysterical laugh bubbled up in my chest.

"No. Not at all. Let's do it. Let's post it."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."