Page 73 of Shane

I suck him harder with my mouth knowing it should put him over the edge and it does. I rub my clit out as his body shudders in ecstasy and then fall into my own bliss as his salty release slides down my throat.

He’s breathing heavily when he lifts me back up into his lap, peppering kisses along my neck and dangerously close to my mouth. We’ve already broken my third rule. Hell, I’ll never look at this room in the same way again, but I can’t break another, so I turn my head.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Kennedy, we’ve been hiding for too long. I want to fight for us, but I need you to fight for us too.”

“Don’t ruin it,” I say, my voice trembling. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Shane’s jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, clearly trying to control his frustration. He lifts me off of him on gently onto the bed as if I don’t weigh a thing.

“My mom said dinner tonight is at six.” He stands to leave. “And be sure to act like you love whatever it is she’s cooked. You’re good at pretending.”

kennedy

The airin the rink is electric, filled with the sharp, metallic scent of ice and the excited buzz of the crowd. Shane’s team is playing a home game, and I’ve come to watch, despite my better judgment. Since my father’s birthday weekend, Shane has been… different with me. If I had to choose one word to describe it, I’d saydistant.

I sit in my usual cold, hard seat, my hands tucked into my coat pockets, trying to keep warm. The cheers and shouts of the crowd are deafening, but my mind is elsewhere.

I keep thinking about Shane, about the tangled mess that is our relationship. I try to push the thoughts away, focusing on the game, but it’s no use. My heart feels heavy, and I can’t shake the sense of impending doom.

As the game progresses, I notice a group of students standing in a seating section nearby, talking animatedly. In the center of them is Lisa. She looks perfect as usual in a matching sweatsuit that accentuates her curves and a cropped-down jacket that looks like it cost a million bucks. It’s no secret that she has set her sights on Shane. Since the two of us have never publicly admitted that we’re anything more than friends, she still believes that she has a shot with him. Hell, maybe she does.

I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of eavesdropping, but their voices carry over the noise of the crowd, and I catch snippets of their conversation.

“Yeah, Shane’s been dealing with a lot of crap lately,” one of the guys in the group says, his voice loud and confident. “That girl he’s been hanging around with, Kennedy, she’s been a real bitch.”

My stomach drops, and I strain to hear more, my pulse quickening.

“Oh, she’s been a piece of the work from the start,” Lisa says, her tone dismissive. “I don’t get it, she’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I heard she’s always at the ice house being super clingy,” the guy replies. “Always up in his business, freaking out over every little thing. I heard the rest of the team doesn’t want her there but Shane just doesn’t know how to cut the bitch loose.”

“Yeah, she might go crazy on him or something,” a different girl adds. “Last thing Shane needs is some stalker fucking up the season.”

Anger and hurt surge through me, hot and overwhelming. Where are they getting their information? Is Shane saying these things about me? Is that how the team sees me?

“Well, I know her. She’s just insecure,” Lisa says. “I mean, Shane’s a hockey star and she’s a nobody. Who is she if she isn’t hanging with Shane Sullivan?”

“So true,” the rest of them agree, laughing at my expense.

My hands clench into fists inside my pockets, my nails digging into my palms. The words sting, each one a dagger to my heart. I feel exposed and betrayed. Is this really what Shane thinks of me? That I’m some clingy, insecure girl who needs him?

“Do you think they’re fucking?” someone asks.

“Absolutely not,” Lisa answers. “Shane can do so much better than her,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, he needs someone who can handle his lifestyle, not someone who’s going to freak out every time he talks to another girl. He wouldn’t ever be serious with someone like her.”

“I heard their parents are fucking.”

“Oh, damn.”

“What!?” Lisa reacts. “That explains so much then. He’s babysitting his sad little stepsister.”

I can’t listen anymore. I stand up abruptly, my vision blurring with tears. I need to get out of here, away from the rink, away from these people, away from this suffocating sense of betrayal.

I push my way through the crowd, not caring if I bump into people or if they stare at me. I just need to escape. As I reach the exit, I hear someone calling my name, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. If I do, I’ll fall apart.

And I don’t cry in public.