Page 31 of Sweet Temptation

Dull skates are the least of my worries right now, and I'm about to get my ass handed to me. ''Wait in here. He'll wanna talk after practice,'' Chance says as he leaves me alone after hauling my ass off the rink.

Leaning against the bench with my legs out in front of me, I remove my skates and slouch over in defeat. I'm screwed. I've missed so much shit, and this is the one thing that keeps me out of my head most days. Fuck!

Coach is going to kick my ass. Sighing, I crawl my ass back to the bench and wait patiently for practice to end. When I hear laughter and chatter coming down the hall, I know practice has come to an end. Sam eyes me uneasily before he takes a seat by his bag. Ace shakes his head and slams his fist on my helmet.

"Dull skates? What kind of shit is that when I remind you weekly," Ace growls as he sits down. My teammates watch me, their faces filled with disappointment as they get undressed.

Slowly, I remove all my hockey equipment, shoving it into my bag to take home and wash. Damien glares at me as he takes his seat beside me. "I need you to help me get out of this. I’ll explain later," I whisper to my brother. Damien nods as he pulls his jeans up his legs and shoves all his hockey gear away.

''As long as you start pulling your weight instead of our mother's," he replies. I nod, pulling my leather jacket on while buttoning up my black jeans. Getting to my feet, I wait patiently in Coach's office for the wrath. Slouching over in the chair, I ruffle my black hair just as Coach closes the door behind him.

''What the fuck was that?'' he barks.

Closing my eyes, I realise I can just tell him the truth, unlike most times when I miss practice. Focusing my eyes on Coach, I bite my lip. "My skates are dull. I have been out of town, and I forgot to sharpen them."

He nods and slides his hands together. "Better not happen again." I nod and cross my arms over my chest. "Now get out,'' he barks, flipping through papers on his desk.

Getting to my feet, I retreat, closing the door behind me. The locker room is empty, other than Damien, who is patiently waiting for me. ''Let's go.'' I sigh, grabbing my hockey bag and heading for the door. Damien follows closely behind me as we reach my car.

When I put my car into park outside the condo, I inhale when Hanna's brown hair comes into view. Damien eyes me before he leaves me and heads into the house. Hanna makes her way to me, her eyes focused on the ground. ''I know you don't want anything from me,'' she says, standing outside the car.

''Actually, the opposite. I wanna fuck you until you scream.''

Hanna's eyes widen as she watches me. ''I can't. Not after the way you spoke to me in front of everyone,'' she whispers. She means she doesn't know if she can be around me and not know the truth. She also said she doesn't want a relationship because there is too much trauma she has to overcome before she can start living for herself and be with someone.

But my reasoning is fully justified; she wouldn't stop texting me. If I didn’t reply, then why the fuck would she continue? I shake my head as I glance at her.

I nod, climbing out of my car and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Not much to talk about, then," I reply. It's impossible after knowing what she tastes like. And if she can't forgive me, then maybe she needs to sit on it a bit longer.

She watches me closely for a few minutes before she speaks. ''You want friends with benefits,'' she chokes out. I nod, eying her up and down before my eyes settle on her perfect pair of tits. ''I can't.'' She shakes her head.

Biting my lip, I move my eyes to hers before I speak again. 'Well, it's either being friends that fuck or nothing at all."

Hanna laughs, but there's no humour there. "If you can't even apologise for how you treated me, then there is nothing to talk about." She crosses her arms, her lips thinned. I'm so over the shit in my life that this is one thing I can grant.

I nod quickly before I head toward the door. ''Come to my game tomorrow," I call, ignoring her comment, leaving her beside my car as I enter the house. Sure, that was a dick move, but why should I apologise when she was the one blowing up my phone?

Dropping my hockey bag onto the floor, I make my way to the kitchen. ''Penne chicken Alfredo good for dinner?'' I ask the boys, who are sprawled out on the couch playing COD.

''Definitely,'' Sam replies, clicking his controller. Looking through the cupboards, I pull out the noodles and the Alfredo sauce before going into the fridge and fishing out the chicken.

My mind wanders as I chop the chicken into small pieces. I'm either dead if I tell Hanna the truth or I don't get to have her at all. Plus, she wants her damn apology. Tossing the noodles into the boiling water, I shove the chicken into the oven.

Damien and I will figure it out, we always do. Straining the noodles, I toss the chicken into the pot with the pasta before adding the perfect amount of Alfredo sauce into the mix. ''Dinner,'' I call. All three hockey players come bouncing to the table and take their seats.

Setting the table, I put down the oven mitt while I set the pot of pasta on it. The boys begin digging into the meal while I clean up the kitchen and then settle beside them.

Filling my plate, I dig in and inhale my food. Maybe that's what weed does to you. I'll never know because I'm done with my mother's daily orders, and I'm especially done with her threat on Hanna. Hockey is my focus, that's what I'm going to focus my energy on. Until I stop avoiding my mother.

A smile pulls at the corner of my lips as I watch my brother and my two friends inhale the meal. This is the first time in a week I have sat down for dinner with these three. This is going to stay that way. I won't put my future on hold because a girl got under my skin.

EIGHTEEN

"Hello?"

"You must be the girl who was wrapped up in my son's bed." Her voice is like ice, and I remember it. Damon's mother. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, but I don't know what to do.

Why is she calling me? "I'll answer your inner thoughts, sweet child. I want you to meet me at Lune Dinner in the alleyway, and don't bother telling my sons about it, either." Margarita chuckles.