Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER EIGHT

SEBASTIAN

So, in hindsight, I could’ve handled that better. There’s just something about Banshee that throws me off my game. I knew she’d be here. She’s the only reason I agreed to come tonight. I like Zach and all. We’ve managed to become good friends in the past couple weeks. But it takes the promise of amazing tits and a fiery attitude to get me into a bowling alley on one of our few free weekend nights.

When we met at the haunted house, Meghan seemed surprised that I knew who she was. But I’ve been itching to meet her since the infamous Kiss Cam game last year. She was at that game with Jackson’s fiancé. They weren’t engaged at the time, but Jackson was already smitten. So when he told the team that his woman’s friend wanted high-fives from the team as we came down the ramp, I complied. Jackson’s a good guy, he’s my captain, and he never asks for anything. No harm in giving some girl a slap on the hand. Some girl named Meghan.

When I came down the ramp, she was bent so far over the railing I was worried she’d topple over. I know I should say it was her smile, or her eyes, that first caught my attention. But it wasn’t. It was her hair. Her wild, dancing-flames mane of hair. I instantly pictured her in front of me, on her knees, hair wrapped around my grip, mouth wrapped around my cock, and I got a freaking half-chub. On my way onto the ice. For a game. Needless to say, she left quite the impression.

Obviously, I couldn’t say Hey, Jackson, I really want your girl’s bestie to give me a blow job. Can I have her number? Now, I might’ve been able to say that to Zach, but I didn’t have to. He walked me right to her.

The media always blows things out of proportion. I’m not a complete man-whore like they say I am, but I’m no monk either. Somewhere in the middle.

I like women. I like sex. I like casual. I don’t have some strict code of one-night stands -only, but I don’t want to deal with labels, such as girlfriend, and all the bullshit that goes along with that. I’m always up front. I’m always honest. And if a girl doesn’t believe me when I tell her what I want, or if she starts getting too attached, I end it. It’s just who I am. How I’m built. And it works for me.

I wasn’t celibate over the past year, but I never forgot about Meghan. So when Zach asked me to come along to his birthday outing, mentioning that Jackson and his fiancé’s friends would be there, I said yes. That’s also when I found out about Zach’s recent history with Izzy. Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe my reaction. Izzy’s a beautiful girl sure, but Zach’s got bigger balls than I do, because I never even considered touching her. But after seeing it for myself, I get it. They’re great together. Turns out, Banshee and I are great together too.

Right from the start, I could tell that Meghan was one of a kind. She’s feisty and funny and more than a bit of a wildcard. I don’t even know how to describe her style; whatever it is, it works for her. I’m so used to jersey chasers who wear as little as possible, which yeah, I don’t hate, but it is getting a little old.

And Meghan definitely didn’t throw herself at me. Just the opposite. Banshee made me try. Hell she made me more than try. She fought me tooth and nail from the moment we first collided. The crazy little nutball even slapped me. Twice. And being the sick fuck that I am, I loved it.

And shit, the feel of her curves in my hands. The way her mouth melted into mine when we kissed. The sounds she made. It was an intoxicating combination. Had she not slapped me the second time, I’m pretty sure I would’ve tried to fuck her right there in the corn maze. And had I tried, she would’ve either let me or she’d have slapped me. Honestly, it’s a tossup, and that unknown factor turns me on, too. Add it to the list of reasons why I need a therapist.

When I asked for her number, I fully intended to use it. I did. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every day over the past week, I’ve thought about her. And it kinda freaked me out. Even when I’m sleeping with a girl, I don’t think about her this much. So, I second-guessed calling her.

The more I think about it, I’m pretty sure that sleeping with Banshee will help to get my brain back in check. It’s my working theory. But honestly, I’m not sure I want the chase to end.

I was still debating about texting her when Zach asked if I wanted to go bowling with him. My first answer was, of course, fuck no. Because bowling sucks. But then he told me that Meghan messaged him about the double date and that he needed a buddy to go with him to crash it. Jackson and I are the only players that know about him and Izzy. Maybe Luke Anders, the co-captain, too. But since Zach just moved back to the States, he doesn’t really have any other friends. I can pretend I came just to be a good friend, but the truth is he had me at Meghan.

I do feel like a bit of a dick for not telling him my intentions, but - if I tell him now - he might tell me to leave Meghan alone, afraid I might fuck things up for him and Izzy. And that’s a totally valid worry. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I do what I want.

I am also a dumbass, and didn’t put it together that a double date meant that Meghan would have a date, too. And since I didn’t think of it, I didn’t ask Zach for any background. Is this her boyfriend? Did she have a boyfriend last weekend when I was feeling her up? Is her date some stranger?

But I didn’t ask. I spotted them before they spotted me, and I felt the anger roll over my body. Whoever the fuck he was, the sight of him sitting next to Banshee made my blood boil.

I did my best to focus on bowling, waiting for Zach to decide when to strike, but my eyes kept tracking over to their lane. To her beautiful face. To her mouthwatering ass. To her date's stupid little hands getting way too close to her.

Then she winked at me.

It was so unexpected that my brain slowed down, trying to process what it meant. But when she sat on his lap, it all snapped into place. She was fucking with me. She was trying to torment me. For what, I didn't know. Not calling her? Maybe. If I knew what women were thinking, I’d be a much richer man. No matter her motive, her date was looking far too comfortable with the situation.

I got to my feet before I even knew what I was doing. Izzy’s date was riling Zach up in much the same way, and he stood at the same time. When Zach started striding over to the girls' lane, I knew I’d be going, too. No way was I going to just sit back and let this shit happen.

It was my pleasure to get within reach and startle Banshee with my greeting. She probably thought I wouldn’t come over. She thought wrong.

I’ll hand it to her though, she played it pretty cool. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from hers, until the movement of that punk’s hands on her hips stole my attention. The wave of possessiveness that rolled over me was so strong, I was gripping her arm and tugging her towards me before I even realized what I was doing.

The red-headed firecracker had me on my toes right from the get-go. Her Little Mermaid comment had me biting back a smile. I could tell she was pissed at me though, so I figured I’d match her fight for fight. She didn’t disappoint, tossing out that quip about a goddamn restraining order.

I could see that her date actually considered it for a moment. I know what I look like. Women might find me attractive, but I also look like a classic bad guy. Muscles and tattoos and scowls. I’ll admit to being an asshole, but I’d never do anything to earn a restraining order. Especially not to a woman. I might not want anything serious, but I still treat the females in my life with respect. My mom would smack me upside the head if she ever heard how I talk to Banshee.

She might’ve been mad at me, but sparring with her had me half hard. I was about to toss her over my shoulder again, hoping we could continue the tongue lashing elsewhere and with far less clothing, but then Zach called out and cockblocked my whole plan.

It only took a couple minutes with Hipsters One and Two to recognize the opportunity. If I could keep them talking, specifically Benny, then Meghan no longer had a date. And without a date, she’d have no one to rub against, driving me crazy.

Once the idea hit, I switched on my Public Ash persona, laying on the charm. Zach’s seen the switch before, and he told me it was - and I quote - creepy as fuck. Whatever, I play hockey for the sport, not to be a public figure.

Basically, my usual attitude isn’t quite appropriate for public appearances. I can accept this as true. Like I said, I’m an asshole. And I love being a goalie - it’s what I was made to do, but - with the highs come the lows. The stress of every loss weighs heavily on my shoulders. Yeah, it’s a team sport and my teammates never rag on me for missing a save. But none of that is a comfort after a lost game. The worst parts of my personality take over and I become a surly piece of shit. It’s unhealthy and I’m working on it. Or, I will work on it. Some day.

Luckily for everyone, the Sleet PR team is extremely talented. And they’ve spent many hours coaching me on how to imitate a pleasant person. So, I pulled those skills out and put them to use. The look of jealousy that covered Banshee’s face as she watched a couple of chicks openly flirt with me bolstered my game plan.

I was impressed that she didn’t pretend to look away when I caught her staring, and I started to wonder which one of us is more stubborn. That thought prompted me to steal her date for a drink at the bar. The fact that Benny leapt out of his seat to join me pissed me off. Pissed me off on Meghan’s behalf. He was supposed to be there with her. Yeah, I’m famous and blah blah whatever, but he came here to be with her. So it might have started as sabotage, but I figured I was doing Banshee a favor by removing him from the equation.

What I didn’t count on was actually liking Benny. He turned out to be a super funny kid. And it didn’t take long to get him talking about Meghan. He told me how she’s a regular at his work. That they’re friends. That he knows he has zero chance with her. That this whole date was just a way to get his friend to go out with her friend.

The relief I felt at his words was a bit unnerving. I didn’t realize how tense I was about the idea of her having a boyfriend. I shouldn’t care. It’s none of my business. I mean, I wouldn’t’ve felt great about what we did in the corn maze if she’d been in a relationship, but if she did have a boyfriend it’d be a good reason to walk away.

But I can’t walk away. Walking away from something I want isn’t my style. Grabbing on with two hands is.

When I decided to drop the games and go talk to her, all I caught was a glimpse of her bright red hair as she jogged out the exit. She’s nothing if not unpredictable.

So now, here I lie, alone in my bed, staring at an open text box on my phone. My reaction to Banshee tonight should be a red flag, scare me away, make me delete her number. It should. But - like I said - I’m a selfish bastard. And I won’t feel settled until I feel every inch of that wild woman surrounding every inch of me.

Fuck it.

I type out a text and hit send before I second-guess myself.

Me: Goodnight, my feisty little Banshee.

I wasn’t sure if she'd reply, but she responded immediately.

Meghan: I’m sorry, this number does not accept text messages from giant douche holes. #unsubscribe

I laugh out loud into the darkness of my room. I should’ve known she’d come back with something full of sass.

I kinda love it.