Page 72 of Ice Cold Heart
I frowned as I watched them, each with a scantily dressed girl hanging off their arms. Puck bunnies really didn’t care as long as the guy was an athlete. I tried to make a path through the center but ended up abandoning the direct route for the edges of the room where there were less people.
A wide opening led to a dining room where I was pretty sure two girls were taking turns sucking a guy’s dick in the corner. Classy. I made it to the other end of the room where it connected to the kitchen without making eye contact with anyone, which was why I jumped when Scott dropped a hand on my shoulder.
“About time you got here,” he yelled in my direction.
I winced and nodded toward the kitchen before leaving the makeshift orgy. Scott followed, and though the kitchen was only slightly better lit, at least I could hear. The counter looked sticky as hell, but no one was currently mixing drinks. A game of beer pong was happening closer to the other hallway, but they didn’t pay us any attention.
Taking a chance with my jeans, I leaned a hip against the edge of the counter and studied Scott for the first time in months. He looked mostly the same—the epitome of bland. Average height, weight, boring brown hair in a boring manager cut, and brown eyes with a hint of malice I’d never noticed before. The royal blue Easton hoodie he wore over his jeans was new too.
“What are you doing at a TU party on a Friday night?” I asked him, not really caring about the answer.
“Trying out something new.” He reached across me to grab two bottles of water from a case on the counter.
“Good for you,” I deadpanned. “You said you had information.”
He laughed dryly and held out one of the bottles to me. “After months of no answer, figures that would get your attention.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe I should have taken Marco’s advice and read the other messages before coming to this meeting. Too late now. Scott wiggled the bottle at me, and I shook my head.
“No thanks. What did you need to talk to me about?”
Scott rolled his eyes, opened the top with a loud crack, and took a long swig of the water. “There. Totally safe.”
He held it out again with a brow raised, and as he intended, I felt foolish stubbornly refusing to take a sealed water bottle. Holding it didn’t mean I had to drink it. A familiar flash of satisfaction crossed his face when I took the bottle from him.
Fuck, I hated playing into his little control games. “Look, I don’t actually care what you have to say. I came here to tell you to leave me alone. I’m not interested in anything from you, and I’m going to block your number after tonight.”
His smile faded. “All I wanted was a little help defending myself after that bullshit article. It would have been the least you could do after walking out on me.”
My mouth dropped open. “Seriously? You were fucking my mom.”
“She came on to me. What was I supposed to do, say no? You weren’t exactly giving it up near the end there.”
Heat climbed my cheeks as the familiar feeling of humiliation tried to take root. “All you ever did was complain about sex with me.”
“Well, I thought you’d improve with some guidance, but damn, fucking you was like having sex with a body pillow.”
Rage ignited, burning away the shame. This asshole deserved every bit of fallout from my article. I should write another one. Without thinking, I brought the bottle to my lips and took a big drink.
A spike of adrenaline coursed through me, but nothing tasted off. Like Cole was always saying, I was overly paranoid. Scott had opened the water in front of me. Not every situation led to a crime scene.
Scott watched me intently, probably waiting for me to crumble and apologize, as if his lack of pleasure was my fault. It pained me I’d done exactly that more than once in the past. Never again.
“Good thing I’m fucking someone else now. My sex life is no longer your concern.”
He narrowed his eyes and gave me a pitying smile. “It’s only a matter of time before that hockey player gets bored and finds someone else. You’ll come crawling back.”
His insult slid right off me, and I found myself laughing at his ridiculous prediction. “Sure, and I’ll also win a Pultzer for sports coverage. Cole loves me, and I’m going to marry him one day.”
I frowned as the unintended words left my mouth. Had I just mangled Pulitzer? Why the fuck was I announcing plans I hadn’t even decided on myself to my evil ex-boyfriend? An image of Scott in a top hat twirling a thin black mustache made me start giggling.
What the hell?
My mild headache suddenly started throbbing with the pulse of the music. I reached up to rub my temples and spilled some water down my top. It felt good against my overheated skin, but I hadn’t even had anything to drink for this level of clumsy. I blinked a couple of times and licked my dry lips.
In slow motion, Scott wrapped his hand around mine on the bottle and held it to my mouth. “Here, you look thirsty. Have some more water.”
As if he had control of my body, I swallow several mouthfuls. In the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong. I shouldn’t let Scott tell me what to do. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop myself.