28. Asher

We had almost finishedthe last set when a slow, sardonic clapping came from the side of the court.

A familiar ugly fucker was standing clapping. His tennis whites were tight around his thick middle, and his face was puffy and red in the natural light. The guy from the stadium, the one who'd put his hands on Winter. Trent. I was satisfied to see he still had a bruised eye.

"Wow, Charles, great game. You've still got it!" he called to Winter's father.

The man in question was looking worse for wear. Despite teasing Winter earlier, I had no intention of giving him a heart attack. I was trying to end the game quickly and would have managed it, too, if my little Ice Queen hadn't been returning so many of my shots. She was great at this, and she looked damn good doing it. I appreciated seeing a beautiful woman excel at such a sophisticated sport. I could have watched Winter all day, until the moment that fucker had arrived. His beady-eyed gaze stuck to her like gum to the sole of a boot.

I needed this game to be over.

I sank the final shot, and Winter let it sail past her. She'd clearly had enough, too.

Charles clapped and came to shake my hand. His was clammy. "Good game, son. You're a natural. If you ever decide to try a different sport, you're welcome to come here to the club with me and play, or maybe we could try out golf sometime."

Pass."Thank you for the invitation, I'll be sure to take you up on it one day."

"Do it soon. I'm not getting any younger."

"Now, come on, Charles, you can't expect a hockey player to appreciate the art of a game like golf." The asshole had meandered over to us.

Winter was watching nervously from her position beside her mother, zipping the rackets into a bag.

"It's Trent. Trent Fitzgerald, as I'm sure you remember," Trent said, his lip lifting contemptuously as he extended his hand to me.

"Sorry, I don't," I said dismissively, and shook his hand with a hard grip.

His bones moved easily beneath his slack hold, and he grunted, pulling his hand from mine. I leaned in just close enough to be heard by Trent, and him only.

"I guess I'm having trouble placing you with your clothes on."

Trent reared back, a scowl marring his phony expression.

I grinned at him. "I'm Asher." Charles had arrived beside us, and Trent had to bite his tongue.

"Asher Martino, winger for the Hellions, I know. I'm sure you can agree that hockey is a game that prides brawn over brains," he said in a superior tone.

"Watch a lot of hockey, do you?" I asked him baldly.

He shrugged. "Enough. I'm more of a football fan." He turned to stare at Winter.

Charles chuckled and wandered away to grab some water, and we were alone.

"The view is certainly better," Trent said.

It was clear he was referencing watching football just to creep on Winter. I fought the sudden urge to put this guy's smug face through my racket.

"Shall we play one more game? Or are you too beat?" Trent said, stepping back and glancing around for approval. "I could go easy on you."

Charles called over. "Don't do it. Asher's a stone-cold killer. What stamina…I wish you reminded me of myself when I was young. Sadly, I never had that much athletic prowess."

"You were a hair away from winning," I protested, purely for show. I'd made sure the score stayed close to even, not wanting to show up Winter's dad.

Charles chuckled good-naturedly. "Untrue, but nice of you to say. Next time we play doubles, it's you and me against the ladies."

"Dad, how's that fair?" Winter complained.

"Don't be sexist, Your Majesty." I grinned at Winter, and she rolled her eyes.

"So, Martino, what do you say to you and me, right now?" Trent pressed.

I'd have loved to show this guy up. Drive him into the ground, make him run and miss shot after shot until he gave up, but I had the feeling guys like Trent were like parasites. You really didn't want to give them a chance to latch onto you, or you might never shake them off.

"As fun and easy as that sounds, I have to pass. I've got to take my girlfriend home."

Trent flushed even pinker. I took the tennis bag from Winter and slung it over my shoulder.

Charles and Angela had drifted off, talking amongst themselves.

I put an arm around Winter's waist and pulled her close to me as we walked away. She came along silently until we went inside the tennis clubhouse. It was bougie as hell. It even had an indoor pool.

"You're all sweaty," she pouted and stepped away from my side.

"So are you, but you don't hear me complaining." I leaned in and licked a line up her neck, just to unsettle her.

It worked, as she stumbled back and clapped a hand over her neck like I'd cut her.

"What are you doing?"

"Tasting you. I'm the winner, I get what I want. To the victor, the spoils… and you are my trophy of war. Conquered territory… mine, by your own admission," I murmured, stopping beside the pool and tugging her close. I'd fucking missed her last night, when I'd had to leave her at her parents' house and go back to campus alone. I'd seen her in the last twelve hours, but I'd still missed her.

"You're not being a sore loser, are you?" I teased her. "It's just a tennis game." I eased my thumb over the apple of her cheek.

She looked so flustered by my casual touch. I enjoyed her discomfort. She was always so cool and unruffled. Not everyone got to see under that fa?ade. In fact, I'd bet nearly no one did. The real Winter was so much more interesting than the jaded Barbie she showed the world.

"A sore loser?" Her blue eyes flashed before she rolled them. My palm itched to repeat the spanking I'd given her, but this time I'd spend the rest of the night kissing it better.

She swished her high ponytail. "We both know I let you win."

"Say what? You let me win?" I could never predict what this girl was going to come out with next.

"Of course I did. You've never played tennis before. I didn't want to show you up."

"How selfless you are," I murmured, and reached out to tangle my fingers in her ponytail. It was like a rope. I made plans to tie it to my headboard in a knot she could never get loose.

"I know, right?" She folded her arms over her chest. "I am selfless. Case in point: getting you back on the ice. That was selfless."

"You were trying to win our little game…that's not really selfless."

She shook her head and scoffed. "I wasn't trying to win the game. We both know I could have achieved that anytime."

"Is that right? Such confidence." I twisted her hair around my hand like a wrap. That confidence was a fucking turn-on. "It's okay to lose sometimes, Winter, I already told you that. It doesn't make you less worthy," I told her. "Not to me."

I freed my hand from her hair and tucked a wisp behind her ear.

She flushed. Unused to compliments, despite being the most beautiful woman in town. I'd change that. She'd get plenty used to them soon enough.

Tossing her regal head, she gave me a haughty look that would rival European royalty. "Such good advice. Thank you. And if I may give you some about losing, too…" She leaned in, surprising me by pressing her body against mine. "Practice makes perfect." And she shoved me hard in the chest.

What the hell?

I staggered back a few steps, and then, the floor disappeared. The last thing I saw was her satisfied face as I went under. The swimming pool water flooded over my head. Honestly, it was refreshing as hell after the tennis game.

I reached the bottom and pushed upward, planting my feet on the floor to shoot up.

My blood was pumping. My heart was beating. I'd never felt more alive.

I exploded out of the water and propelled up the side of the pool, boosting myself out easily. Winter was running toward the women's locker room, but she wasn't fast enough. A couple of elderly ladies were blocking the doorway, talking between themselves, with no clue about what was going on behind them.

Winter hesitated, and my arms closed around her.

"Going somewhere?" I murmured against her temple.

"Asher, just wait a second and think about this —"

I didn't let her finish. I carried her to the pool and jumped in, taking both of us with me.

We surfaced seconds later, and I still had her in my arms. She was coughing and spluttering, shaking her head and rubbing at her eyes. I blinked the water out of mine and held her while she wriggled.

"Hey! This outfit was new!"

"And now it's see-through…a design improvement." I smirked. "You started it, I finished it."

She shook her head, but there was a smile playing around her lips. "So arrogant. Do they give out arrogance like this in the Hellions' locker room or what?"

"Nah, you have to be born with it." I backed Winter up against the wall of the pool. There was no one around for now, and that was just the way I liked it. Her legs drifted up around my hips, her body welcoming my touch even as her mind protested it. She had no idea how rare the electricity between us was when we touched.

She was so inexperienced. All talk. Vicious venom from a sheltered little brat. The thought of showing her all the things she had no idea about was a turn-on. Lately, everything about her was a goddamn turn-on.

"Well, I think you got more than your fair share. Stop ruining all my clothes," she admonished lightly.

"Wear less around me then, and I won't have to," I retorted.

Her eyebrows shot up, and she was speechless for a second, and then laughed. "So, at games, in class, around campus…I should just wear less?"

"My mistake. Be alone with me more often, Your Majesty…and wear less when you are."

She rested her head back against the tiles. The water had darkened her hair to a caramel color. Her face was wet, dotted with droplets. Her gaze fell to my lips, and her chest expanded, her pupils doubling in size. What was she thinking about to have such an intense reaction? I wished I could peer inside her head and read her thoughts.

She dropped my eyes, hiding her feelings from my curious gaze.

I caged her there, my hands against the tile on either side of her. "Don't do that. Don't hide from me. Be the girl with the biggest balls I know."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, splashing me.

"It means you're confident. You take no prisoners…with two exceptions," I amended.

She raised her eyebrow at me, urging me to continue.

"Your parents. You're someone completely different around them."

She frowned. "In what way?"

"You're quiet, demure. You walk on eggshells. You're scared."

Her eyes flashed. "Scared? Of my own parents?"

"No, not of them…of the absence of them. It's okay, take it from me — they're either there and don't care about you, or care about you but can't be there… or they've chosen not to even meet you. It's exhausting."

She blinked at me, taken aback by the deepness of the conversation. The words had just bubbled up in my chest. I could see Winter's desperate need to please her parents, especially her dad, from a mile away. When she was around them, she was different, suppressed, like someone had turned off the light inside her, and she was waiting anxiously for one of her parental figures to turn it back on. To approve of her, spend time with her. To love her.

She considered my words for a long moment. "What are you going to say to your dad if you meet him?" she wondered.

Her abrupt change of subject threw me for a second.

I shrugged. "When I meet him, I'm just going to ask him one word. One word is all I need."

"When? You want to meet him, then. You've decided?" she asked, her eyes wide.

I nodded, and she smiled. There was a warmth in that smile that I hadn't known I'd been looking for all my life, not until that moment.

"What's the word?" she asked after a brief pause.

"You'll hear it when we find him. You'll come with me, won't you? To see our game through."

She nodded slowly. "If you want me there, I'm there. To see our game through." Her eyes flickered over my shoulder. "Shit, it's Leonard," she hissed.

The manager who had fired me rounded the pool in record time as we got out and wrapped towels around ourselves.

I turned a broad smile on him. "Leonard, how great to see you!" I stuck my hand out for good measure.

Leonard ignored it, his expression thunderous. "Asher, I had to let you go. It's not cool to sneak in here and pretend you belong —"

"He's with me," Winter said, drawing herself up and somehow seeming more regal than a queen at that moment. She leveled a scathing look at Leonard. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, of course not, Miss DeLaurie."

"I shouldn't think so." She spun around and headed toward the locker room.

"You heard Her Majesty, Leonard." I shot him a shit-eating grin. "Now, kindly fuck off."