Chapter 3 ELLIOT

“So let me get me this straight,” the R.A. said, staring at me from behind dark shades. “You want me to assign you another roommate because the one you have right now is an, and I quote, ‘asshole'?”

“Yes.” I nodded, “Or you can assign me to another room, I don’t mind.”

“Has this roommate done anything to threaten your life or property?”

“Not yet.” I grumbled. If anything, I’m the one who physically injured him. “But do I have to wait till he’s a threat? Isn’t prevention better than cure?”

“For like chlamydia, yeah.” He sighed, rubbing his nose. “Look kid, I’m too hungover for this. Roommates are randomly assigned, there’s a system, an upperclassman and a freshman. I can’t reassign unless you have a really really good reason.”

He pinned me with a look. “Do you?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, you can always come find me when you do.” He leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes.

Knowing a dismissal when I see one, I pushed away from his desk and trudged grudgingly back to my room.

Weston was still there, lounging at his desk with a game controller in his large hands. He lolled his head lazily when I stepped in, pushing a lollipop around his mouth.

There was a small band aid strip on his split lip.

I tried really hard not to stare, but it was hard not to when I've had his tongue in my mouth.

“We have mandated practice tomorrow morning.” He said gruffly, those eyes flashing before he turned back to his game. “Unfortunately, we’re stuck with each other for the time being.”

I scowled and shuffled to my bed, riffling through my bag to keep busy. He’d arranged his side of the room, it was obsessively neat, everything colour coded and stacked by size.

He had a couple posters on his wall, and a Jersey with the name Pierce on it. It didn’t look like our Vipers uniform.

I wondered if it was his Dad’s.

There were pictures on his desk too, him with longer hair, next to an older boy that looked so much like him.

When I dragged my gaze, I found him watching me.

“What?” I growled, cheeks heating.

“Nothing.” But his gaze dropped to what I had in my hand.

It was his hoodie.

I blushed. “Right sorry. I’ll have this washed and returned.”

“Its fine.” He muttered, “You can have it.”

He turned and proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the day. By the time I returned from dinner with Delia, the room was empty. My heart sank, which was stupid.

When I woke the next morning, West wasn’t around either. It was 6am, I managed to drag myself to the rink without collapsing for our mandatory puck practice.

Weston was already there.

Surprise, surprise.

“Gear up.” He said as soon as I walked in. “Maybe now you’ll show me why you were given that scholarship.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.” I snapped, already irritated.

“You do.” He snapped back, skating closer. “I’m your captain, and I decide whether or not you’re staying on this team. Even if Coach keeps you, I could ensure you’re benched for the rest of the season. Wonder what the board will say about your scholarship then.”

“Are you threatening me?” My voice rose in exasperation. “What is your problem with me? I’m not gonna tell anyone I gave you a blowjob at some frat party, so you can stop being an asshole!”

Weston’s eyes flashed, and he looked around in panic. “Will you shut the fuck up about that?” he snarled, closing the distance between us.

“That night was a mistake, it didn’t happen. My only business with you is hockey. I don’t care about your other hobbies, do you understand?”

“Fuck you!”

I shouldered past him and stormed off for the locker room. Once I was suited up, I joined him on the ice and took my place by the net.

He tossed me a stick, his gaze clouded behind his helmet.

“I’m going to fling pucks at you, you’re going to catch as many of then as you can.”

I rolled my eyes. “And what does this achieve?”

“Its practice.” He slid into position, graceful and effortless on the ice. “Heads up, rookie.”

He started shooting pucks before I could get my bearing. At first it was easy to fall into the rhythm.

Hockey was familiar to me, the slide of skates, the smell of the ice, our breaths misting in the air.

Weston gaze was intense and bright, it was exhilarating having his attention on me, those eyes blue like ice.

But then they narrowed, and the pucks started coming faster, sliding into the net before I could stop them. Some of them met my shin, my ankle, my knees

It fucking hurt.

“Stop!” I hissed. “Fucking stop it!”

I flung my stick at him, but he dodged. Cursing, I wrenched off my helmet and skated past him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he called but I ignored him, slamming the door to the locker room hard and collapsing on a bench to strip off my gear.

I came here to play hockey, make my way to the NHL, and give everyone who’d ever doubted me cuz of my height, the middle finger.

If I’d known I’d end up a punching bag for a closeted asshole, I’d have bitten off his dick that night.

The door slammed open and Weston stormed in, wearing only his Jersey. I pushed myself to my feet.

“What was that?” he barked.

“What was what?” I grumbled back.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He snarled, coming closer. “This isn’t junior leagues or the Albuquerque try offs. We’re an actual team here, with a legacy to uphold, you can’t just disobey orders and do whatever the fuck you want.”

“I’m not disobeying orders! You’re the one who’s being deliberately difficult. I’ve been training for this my whole life, stop treating me like I don’t belong here.” I flung back at him. “And I’ve told you, I’m from Arizona.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He was closer now, backing me up against a locker. “I don’t care how long you’ve been training, I don’t think you’re good enough for this team, and you keep proving my point.”

“We both know the only reason you’re breathing down my neck is cuz you’re a sadistic asshole.” I sneered, “The whole team hates you, they think you’re a jerk. And they’re right.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped and his hands flexed. “I don’t need their affections to be a good leader."

“Yeah,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Cuz god forbid you actually have any human emotions, right? Isn’t that why you’re being such a jerk to me, cuz you’re scared I’m gonna tell everyone you’re gay when you won’t even admit it to yourself.”

“I fucking told you to shut up about that!” he fisted his hands in my shirt and slammed me back against the locker hard enough for my ears to ring.

I cried out, straining on my toes.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I growled, punching him hard across the face before I could think twice.

He staggered back with the force, but recovered quickly, fisting my Jersey again and slamming me to the floor. My head met the tile with a bang.

I snarled, pushing up to stand, but he straddled me, his bigger bulk holding me down.

“Get off me!” I yelled, kicking and thrashing.

“No.” He hissed, “I’m gonna make you lick the floor clean for what you just did.”

He leaned forward to hold my hands in place, and then I felt it. The length of his cock against my stomach.

Weston was hard.

He froze at the same time, like he was just realising his arousal too. His gaze fell on mine, eyes dark.

I swallowed, squirming. “A-a-re you gonna do something about that?

“Why?” he cocked his head, “Are you offering?”

I flushed hot. The air in the locker room was suddenly very thick. “Well, not if you’re gonna be a jerk about—”

He leaned forward and slammed his mouth on mine before I could finish. I moaned immediately, opening for his tongue and writhing beneath him, grinding hard against his cock.

Fuck, I was going to regret this.