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Boyfriend Bargain(51)

By:Ilsa Madden-Mills


In two seconds he’s back in my space. “You didn’t give it a chance. Was it lack of faith, Sugar? Or just an excuse for you to give up before it got hard? Because you know what? I am hard.”

I try to brush past him, but his hand reaches out and grabs mine, lacing our fingers together. It’s such a simple touch, but it’s his little thing, all him, and I whimper.

“Wait, shit, wait,” he says.

Something in his voice stops me and we stare at each other, the air crackling.

His other hand trails up my skin, skimming my upper arm, drifting to my neck where his fingers curl around my nape. “Always you.”

He pushes his fingers into my hair and kisses me hard and it only takes a few seconds—I kiss him back, nipping at his lips and…yes, yes, yes…this is what I need, what I want.

His tongue strokes against mine, demanding and assertive, and my body lights up. His lips know how to play me, hitting the perfect notes. I’ve craved the taste of him, the feel of his shoulders under my hands for weeks. His lips wreak havoc on my neck, kissing and nipping, and my fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his hair. I commit the kiss to memory so I can replay it a million times in my head.

Trying to catch my breath, I pull away, and his thumb tugs at my bottom lip. “Did you come here to see me?” It’s not a cocky comment; it’s layered with hope, and I’m falling down that hole again. He’s the one pushing and there’s nothing there to catch me.

I inhale, gathering myself. “Did you kiss me because I look like Willow?”

He closes his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Don’t do that. Don’t put her here. This is about me and you.”

Tears push at my eyelids as I remember that letter, his words—words he never said to me. “Maybe I did run off, but here I am now, Z. Tell me everything. Tell me how you feel.” All I need from him is just an inkling…

His face pales in the moonlight. “I can’t, Sugar. Not yet. Just give me time.”

Time to sit at fountains with girls named Lola. Time to walk into the Kappa party with another girl.

There’s a distance on his face as he looks at me, a pulling away, and I blink rapidly, trying, trying—shit, trying to hold myself together and not cry in front of him. The tears fall anyway and I can’t stop them. He’s not who I thought he was at all. I knew I was going to get burned by him, and here’s the proof.

So, I do what I always do.

I untangle myself from him and walk away.





42





Zack





The championship game is finally here.

Sitting on the bench in my T-shirt and running shorts, I wrap my stick with methodical precision.

You deserve hockey. You deserve happiness.

Once my stick is ready, I stand and roll my shoulders, relaxing my muscles and shaking out my arms. Tonight’s game is about putting everything shitty behind me and focusing on what’s ahead, and I’ve been working on my mental concentration, familiarizing myself with the stats of every player on the opposing team and memorizing every single play I need. What I can’t do is think about anything else. Tonight, it’s me and the ice. Tonight’s the finals, and I’m determined we’re going to win that trophy and bring it home.

Eric sits down on the bench in front of me, closes his eyes, and takes deep, even breaths.

“Meditating?” I ask.

He gives me a nod, keeping his eyes shut.

“Copycat. Want me to hum some kumbaya?”

He gives me a shrug and pops his eyes open. “Honestly, it just makes me sleepy.”

I’m about to reply, but my breath hitches as a tall young woman with wavy blonde hair walks past the open door of the locker room.

She turns to speak to one of the reporters in the hallway. Not her.

But still, my head goes to the Kappa party a few days ago.

She walked away from me and this time, I couldn’t blame her. I’m not ready to do what she needs. I let her go and once I composed myself, I went downstairs. She was gone, not that I was surprised. I went home alone.

I have to focus on the game, the reason I’m here.

Eric gives me a look that’s half grin, half scared-as-shit grimace. “You ready, man?”

“Hell yeah.” I look at the silver medallion necklace my mom gave me, and there’s comfort in slipping it around my neck and tucking it under my gear.

Nothing gold can stay is true, but tonight, it’s going to burn bright.





* * *



My helmet is in my hands and my gloves are off, tucked up under my arm as I look up at the black and gold confetti raining down on us. I look over at Eric, who’s still got a huge smile on his face. He skates up to me and punches me in the arm, and I laugh. We beat Minnesota-Duluth 6 to 5 in a well-fought, tooth-and-nail fight to the bitter end. Four of those goals were mine, but I thought it was over when I took a slap shot to the leg in the second period and went down. Convinced something was broken, the medics whisked me to the locker room, but I was fine and ran back out to score again.

“Congratulations on the championship!” a reporter says.

Reece skates over and we all three stand with our arms around each other, confetti blanketing the rink in the Wisconsin arena. Reporters call out and cameras flash and the music is loud, the fans who followed us all the way here clapping and cheering in their HU shirts. I hear my name being chanted, and I huff out an embarrassed laugh as my eyes scan the seats, checking the rows…needing, wishing, hoping.

But I don’t see her blonde hair.

Not that I thought she would come since the game was out of town, but many students did, and I guess part of me just wanted her to be here.

A reporter sticks a microphone in my face. “Truly a night to remember, Zack?”

I nod. “Absolutely. Best night ever.”

But that’s not entirely true.

Not until she’s with me.





43





Sugar





I’m at the bar in the Tipsy Moose and the crowd around me is going nuts, glasses raised as they toast and cheer for the HU win in Madison, Wisconsin. My eyes are glued to the screen, to Z. He’s skating around and girls are throwing flowers at him. He laughs and waves, that familiar shuttered expression on his face.

Taylor wiggles in his seat. “Four fucking goals. Huge game for him. Mind-blowing.”

Julia thumps him on the head with her finger. “Stop with the play-by-play of the hot hockey players.”

“You said hot—do you mean Eric?” Taylor says with snark and then turns to me and pats me on the back. “Sorry, love, all that testosterone got me jacked.”

Putting on a brave face, I laugh. I wouldn’t even be here tonight if my friends hadn’t insisted. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the bar and sigh. My hair is lackluster and flat, my eyes have shadows under them, and there’s zero lipstick on my lips. I’m empty. And I’m so ready to get the hell out of Sparrow Lake.

Julia slaps a hand on the bar. “I need everyone’s attention.”

We all look, and I’m thinking she’s finally going to spill the beans on boning Eric then falling in love then getting cheated on—or so my theory goes, at least—but she waves at the bartender and orders us a round of tequila shots.

She hands them out and looks at me. “I just want to toast Sugar. She’s had a shit few weeks, but she did get some good news today.”

Taylor and Poppy lean in. “What happened?”

I smile. “I got my acceptance email and official letter from Belmont in Nashville. It’s a topnotch school and the tuition is surprisingly reasonable. I’m headed to law school, bitches!”

Whoops go up and hugs ensue. We toss back drinks and they continue to congratulate me, and I can’t help but smile. What I don’t tell them is that I did indeed get an email from the dean of admissions at Vandy, and he was thrilled to offer me a spot that opened up because someone dropped. I figured it was the letter of recommendation that sealed the deal and even though that is a legit way to get in, the appeal had faded. I told him no.

“Urgent” by Foreigner rings on my cell.

“What’s up?” I ask Mara, infusing my voice with joy.

“Just called to say good luck on your trip to Davenport. Also, I saw they won.”

I draw a doodle with my finger on the bar napkin. I leave tomorrow to fly to Birmingham to attend George’s will reading. I realized this will be my only opportunity to say the things I want to say, to see half-siblings I might never see again. Part of me is torn, nervous about stepping into their perfect little world, anxious about how I compare. But, I know I don’t want any regrets, and if that’s really true, I need to see them.

“Thanks. I’ll keep you updated.”

There’s a long pause. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? It wouldn’t be a big deal. Luis can hold down the fort for a spell.”

It would be nice to have company on the flight and then especially when I walk into that house, but…

“Thank you, but no. You’re being sweet but you can’t spare the time, and actually, I’m looking forward to getting out of town.”

She tells me she loves me and I end the call, finish up my drink, and tell my friends goodbye.

“So when you get back, you’re gonna be rich, right?” Poppy says as the trio walks me to my truck.