Chapter 4 ELLIOT.

I did regret it.

As soon as I came over his hands and watched the clench of his shoulders as he followed swiftly after, I cursed myself.

He stayed leaning over me for a couple minutes, breathing hard, and he squeezed his eyes tight.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pushing up to his feet shakily.

I tucked my cock back into my pants and sat up, watching him warily. Just because we’d both mutually orgasmed didn’t mean he wouldn’t still punch me.

But he didn’t punch me, all he did was storm into the showers and slam the door shut, leaving me on the locker room floor with all the dignity of a used condom.

There was no way I was getting into the showers with Weston, so I stripped and wiped myself down with the practice jersey, changing into shorts and a compression shirt and hightailing it out of the rink.

I headed straight for the pools to get Delia, and hoped to god I didn’t smell like hockey sweat and cum.

I found her easily, still in uniform and speaking to a senior. As soon as she saw me, she beamed.

“Heyyyy, Eli,” she sang, flying into my arms. I stumbled backwards, she was wet and I didn’t realise we were that close now.

“Hey.” I patted her once and pulled away, “You smell like chlorine.”

“Shit sorry,” She wrinkled her nose. “Are you coming back from the rink? You kinda smell like ice.”

I flushed, “Uh yeah. I had mandatory puck practice.”

“With your captain roommate?” She smirked.

“Don’t call him that.”

“But that’s what he is.” She pulled off her goggles and bounced on her heels. “I’m gonna go take a shower and then we’ll go get breakfast.”

Later, seated under a canopy at an outdoor cafe with a smoothie in my hand, Delia shoved her phone under my nose and I found myself staring down at Weston’s sharp blue eyes in a photo, narrowed at the camera like he was bored.

“What exactly am I looking at here?” my hands shook slightly, the memory of this morning still sharp.

“It’s your roommate captain, duh. This was at that frat party...”

My throat went dry and I nearly choked on my smoothie, feeling my cheeks heat. Thankfully Delia was too busy zooming in on his face to notice.

“The girl beside him,” she pointed to the busty blonde Weston was draped over and I felt my stomach twist, “That’s Madison Scott. She’s like stupid rich, but my roommate says she’s a total bitch.”

I rubbed at my temple. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Cuz she and Weston go way back, so if he ever brings her to your room, please lemme know.”

I frowned, “Way back like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Uh I don’t think so.” She leaned forward to sip my smoothie, practically draping herself across my lap. “Your roommate’s kind of a whore.”

“What?”

“His reputation proceeds him.” She shook out her hair, “At freshman orientation, a bunch of seniors warned us to steer clear, he’s an asshole with a pretty face, and will quite literally fuck anything with a skirt.”

Well I hadn’t been wearing a skirt either times. Was he the kind of closeted freak who slept around to fill some void, or was he just bi-curious?

Either way, he had a reputation.

And it seemed no one really liked him.

Served him right in my opinion.

“There’s another party tonight.” Delia was saying, “At The Basement , it’s a club downtown. The girl's hockey team is hosting it. We should go, get drunk, make bad decisions.”

I pushed the rest of my smoothie away as my stomach turned sour. The last time I was at a party, I hooked up with a repressed closeted asshole who was now hellbent on making me miserable

“I’ll pass.” I mumbled, “I’ve made enough bad decisions to last a while. Plus, I have homework.”

She pouted. “So who’s gonna go with me?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone.” I pushed out of my seat and picked up my bag, “I have class in five minutes.”

“Will I see you for dinner?” She called after me.

I raised her a thumbs up without turning around, and jogged across the yard to where my classes awaited.

It was incredibly difficult to focus the entire day, because for some reason, my brain decided to relive this morning at every given chance.

Torturing me with the image of Weston above me, his harsh breaths against my ear as he pumped us both with one hand, the silky smoothness of his cock against mine, the sheen of sweat on his brow, the forehead scrunch I recognized from that night.

How I’d stared at him and willed him to kiss me.

The relief when he finally did, and it was tongue, and teeth, and heat, and...I was getting hard at inappropriate places.

By the time I crawled back to my dorm room around six, I was exhausted and irritated. Both at myself for being so easy, and at Weston for being such a hot dick.

Dread curled in my stomach as I pushed open the door, only to freeze at the sight of the girl on Weston’s bed.

It was the busty blonde from Delia’s phone, and she was in nothing but lace panties and a shirt that looked like Weston’s, her hair was mussed and rough.

A very obvious, freshly fucked hair.

Weston was suspiciously absent.

I stepped in, and the pit in my stomach sunk deeper when she glanced up and saw me.

“Oh hey,” she smiled, wide and friendly. “You must be Weston’s new roommate.”

She stepped forward, and wow she was stunning.

Was this what Weston liked? Blonde, boobs and curvy legs for days. I was naturally blonde, would he care if I grew my roots out?

I cleared my throat and beelined to my bed. “Yeah.”

“That’s cool. My name’s Madison.” She came to stand next to me, cocking her head. “Do you play hockey too?”

I fisted my hands to stop their trembling and blinked rapidly. I wanted her to leave, like now. “Yeah.”

Before she could say anything else, the door to the bathroom opened, and Weston stepped out, he was wearing only black briefs, a towel around his neck.

The moment he saw me, he froze in his tracks, staring at me with an unreadable expression and I realized then, that my eyes were burning.

Fucking hell.

I turned and stormed out, slamming the door shut hard as I left.