Chapter 4 Tastes Like Ruin
Kendra
He looked pleased with himself. Probably spent half his free time saving women in distress like a damn cliché.
His perfect broad grin drew a rumble in my chest, mocking that beer and frozen pizza waiting for me in the fridge.
Speaking of which, my house was so empty I could hear the sound of my breathing coupled with the thoughts of losing Dad, and our non-existent family members who never check in.
I jerked my head up to him, unyielding. “In your fucking dreams, O’Shea.”
His cocky grin disappeared, replaced by a searing look. “I have to hand it to you, Drake. You almost fooled me.”
“I…I'm not trying to.” I swallowed, but the lie died off as I traced the hard line of his jaw.
“Do I make you uneasy?” he murmured, his deep voice making my toes curl in my boots.
I let out a shaky breath, too rigid to back away. “You wish.”
He took a step forward. “Good.”
Noah didn't give me any second to argue; his hands simply reached to cup my face. I sucked in a breath as he kissed me.
Nothing else moved.
The world was just the whirring of the heater and the drumming of my heart. His mouth moved against mine with confidence, stealing my breath away.
My fist brushed his chest. Useless. I couldn't push him off, but I also didn't stop exploring his mouth either. Just soared on the clouds of pleasure.
Maybe it was going home to a void of silence. I wanted to feel alive.
Mindlessly, I removed my work gloves and reached for the back of his head and caught a fistful of his thick flame hair, basking in his minty taste.
Hungry noises broke out from him. More from me.
His hard body collided into mine, and I backed against a locker with a bang.
My body still pulsed with life; I blinked twice to be sure Noah wasn't a fantasy.
He was right in front of me.
All muscles and brawn.
But then, he began to pull away slowly, unraveling from me like a thread. The sudden emptiness swallowed me, merging into surprise as I gasped for air.
His massive body shifted, casting me a careful look down at me.
“Why’d you stop?” I asked lamely.
He let out a low exhale. “Because I have my answer.”
I shook my head as he turned on his heel. I bit back a question. What does that even mean?
Noah O'Shea was Simon's captain. The last person on the planet I should be kissing, like my life depended on his touch. The realization hit my skin like a bucket of ice.
“I practice late nights, Kendra,” he added, his cocky voice regaining its edge as he headed for the door. “You’re going to have to deal with it.”
Noah
The next evening at hockey practice, I couldn’t shake that conversation from my head. The way Kendra Drake chewed her bottom lip as I backed away proves my theory.
That girl wants me.
She's seen my ass.
It can't be denied that she also wants a piece of it under her boot.
A smug rush of instant satisfaction bloomed in my chest as I focused on the ice. The defenseman ended his sixth and final lap of punishment around the rink; his face grew pure red as he glared at me.
“Looking good, Warrington,” I said casually, though it was the last time he'd ever hear it from me.
“Screw this, O'Shea." Simon’s face twisted as he paused before me. “Do you realize how humiliating this is?”
I kept a grin from showing. “Hmm, only day four of thirty, and you haven't learned your lesson, freshman. I bet you haven't apologized to the janitor either.”
Simon winced, brushing off the comment. “Why? She's a nobody.”
Warrington’s pretty boy features churned my stomach. And you're a coward, I thought.
College sports were a huge step. Most guys wept over not making The Gladiators, but Warrington didn't have to lift a finger. Coach filed his name at the top of the roster.
I'd tried to avoid the nepo kid, putting work first until he crossed a very dangerous line by touching Kendra.
I snuck a glance at Simon, then at Coach Murray scribbling something on his clipboard. I curled my fists, releasing a dark urge to punch Simon.
Not worth a suspension.
Oblivious to how close he could be to getting a black eye this second, Simon cleared his throat. “So Cap, are you coming to my party at the frat house later?”
“No.”
“Geez, man, I thought you'd be way more fun." Simon blew a breath, giving a teasing smirk. “Chicks are gonna be there if you want to get your hockey stick sucked.”
I stared down his grinning face and skated away to rejoin the team without a word.
I was still at the rink long after practice; the boys had abandoned me, howling like horny wolves in anticipation for Warrington’s party.
A rapper's bass voice crackled through my earbuds as I guided a puck across the ice. My breathing rushed out in sharp bursts, matching the same pace of my skating.
Work hard. Play smart. That's all it took for me.
I wish I could afford to fool around like the guys, but Dad had expectations. O'Sheas never slack off on ice.
Ever.
A certain dark-haired girl with a nose piercing burned into my mind. Damn her and those curves showing off under her uniform.
With a strike, the puck fired into the net. I pumped a fist into the stale, icy air, slowing down to catch my breath for a second.
My mouth twitched.
A while later, I stood under the water jet spray, letting the heat beat my shoulders; my muscles, raw and red, began to loosen up. The memory of her mouth took flight in my senses.
I walked out, patted my hair dry with a towel, and glanced at the clock. 1:55 AM. She'd be here in about five minutes.
After throwing on my Gladiators sweatshirt and jeans, I took a seat on the bench and scrolled through my phone until I was bored of every flashy photo on my feed.
Dozens of girls lined up at my DMs. Models, young and scarily older. But none of them were as intriguing as Kendra.
Something dark glistened in those brown eyes. Maybe it was pressure like mine. Either way, I wanted to find out.
The door swung open, followed by the ceiling light flickering on. Kendra dragged her cart inside, letting the door click locked before scowling at me.
“Oh my God, don’t you ever sleep, O'Shea?”
“Aw, you didn't scream tonight.”
She performed her usual routine of taking out a brush, waving it at me like a magic wand. “You're getting a little predictable.”
“Please, don't give me any ideas.”
Kendra groaned at the ceiling. “I can't keep working like this.”
I lay back on the bench. “I’m not in your way.”
She crossed her arms; her cheeks turned pink. “Your presence is really distracting…”
“Hmm, do tell,” I added, raising a brow.
