Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens

Eleven

Rebel

After spending the rest of the weekend at Holland’s house, I walk back into my place Sunday evening and see Blossom in the kitchen. “We need to talk,” I tell my sister as I walk through the door. I look around for Preston but don’t see him. “Is he here?”

Blossom is wearing a pair of cut-off jogger shorts, a tank top, and no bra. She looks like she just rolled out of bed at five in the evening.

“Preston?” she asks.

I nod.

“He’s still in bed,” she says. I hadn’t seen his bike outside, but maybe he’s parked it in the garage now.

“What’s up? I’m exhausted. I just want a warm bath.” She sighs. I had texted Blossom on Thanksgiving letting her know that I would be staying at Holland’s the rest of the weekend and she told me to have a good time. She clearly enjoyed having the house to herself, but this thing with Preston has to end.

I place my backpack on the hook by the front door and make my way to the kitchen table. “I need you to sit down,” I say.

“Damn, what’s going on? You aren’t pregnant, are you? Because I haven’t seen you with a boy since Trevor.”

I roll my eyes. “Not pregnant. Just take a seat.”

She falls back into a kitchen chair. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Preston is doing drugs,” I blurt, so I don’t lose my nerve.

“No, he isn’t. He’s on probation. He isn’t allowed to use. He used to, but he stopped in prison.” She shakes her head.

Sweat prickles my forehead. Is she listening to herself? “Blossom, you are beautiful. You have so much going for you. Why are you settling for a guy who’s been to prison?”

“He’s a good guy. You’d know if you actually gave him a chance. He ran with the wrong crowd when he was younger and got into some trouble, but he’s clean now. He holds a steady job at the mechanic’s shop, and I think I’m falling in love with him,” she says.

Her last words cause my heartbeat to slow. “I saw him snorting lines of coke on our bathroom counter,” I tell her and then it feels like I’m holding my breath as I wait for a response.

“Why are you trying to ruin the first good thing I’ve had in a while?” she counters.

“How could you think that?” I ask, truly offended. “You’re the only family I’ve got. I love you. I just don’t understand how you could fall for a guy who is so much like…” I can’t even say it out loud.

“Daddy,” she says, springing to her feet. “Is that what you wanted to say?” She flails her hands in the air. “Preston isn’t anything like Daddy. He’s trying to straighten out his life. He’s working hard.”

“He’s bringing drugs into our house,” I shout back at her, feeling the blood pumping fast in my veins.

“No”—she lifts her pointer finger at me—“this is you being paranoid. I gave up my chances at college so that we could stick together. You don’t get to dictate my life,” she snarls and stalks off. Tears well in my eyes. Blossom has never thrown her choices in my face like this before. I knew she gave up on getting out of this town to take care of me, but, foolishly, I never stopped to think what that meant. I need to fix this, but how? She doesn’t believe me about Preston. Her heart is so set on the loser and doesn’t see the writing when it’s in her face and on the wall.

The kitchen door opens and Preston peeks his head in. “Hey. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Just freaking great.

He probably heard the whole conversation through the thin walls. Feeling overwhelmed, I grab my backpack and head out the door. I had planned to go upstairs and change into my own clothes, but that will have to wait now. I don’t trust Preston, and Blossom is clearly too emotional right now. Blossom doesn’t stop me from leaving and it saddens me because we are usually so open and attuned to each other. She must really be upset.

I slowly take the stairs of the front porch.

Preston comes after me. “Hey, Rebel. Sorry, was it something I said?” he asks, his voice raised but tone friendly.

I roll my eyes, but he doesn’t see because I don’t turn around to answer him. I just trudge along the side of the road. The temperature has dropped to below freezing and I didn’t take my jacket, but there’s no way I am going back in there. Not after my sister thought I was lying and basically chose that loser over me. I wrap my arms around myself and shiver as the wind whips against my cheeks. I’ve never felt so alone and lost before. Blossom and I were always a team. As I pass Mr. Hucksberry’s porch, I stare at it, hoping he’ll be out here and maybe invite me inside for a cup of cocoa, but he doesn’t sit out here so late this time of year.

Walking to Holland’s house is too damn far. I have no choice but to head to campus.

Blossom is all I have and it feels like I’m losing her.

As I walk, I replay the conversation I just had with my sister.

“Rebel?” This time when he says my name, I know exactly who it is.

I spin around. “Are you following me, Wolfe? This can’t be a coincidence,” I snap at him, because my emotions are running high and my verbal filter is clearly lost.

“I went for a run. I need to get my endurance up,” he says, moving in a slow jog beside me. “Where are you going? The Firken? I can give you a ride.”

Something about his offer causes my blood to boil. “Stop offering me rides. It’s getting ridiculous. I get you feel bad or whatever that I don’t have a leg, but I got along fine before you started giving me rides and I’ll do just fine now too.” My anger and frustration with Blossom have clearly caused me to lose it on Wolfe and for no good reason. He’s offered me good conversation and a warm car, and here I am biting his head off.

“So you’re having a bad day too?” he asks cautiously.

“Too?” I question.

“My sister called me this morning. Mom was having one of her out of control moments and my father left for Washington right after they finished dessert on Thanksgiving. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it’s under control now. I decided to go for a run, which was mostly a slower jog, but it helped me chill out.”

“I’m sorry, Wolfe.” My anger deflates. “That can’t be easy.”

“It’s not,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. His breaths come quick, I guess from the run. He looks adorable in a Dragons hoodie and sweatpants. And the way his light eyes glow in the dark has my stomach doing back flips.

“I know, and I just got back from Holland’s,” I say.

“How was Thanksgiving?” he asks.

“It was fine,” I say. “How was yours?”

“Fine,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate either. Sometimes it feels like he comes across as being a loner or maybe just lonely, but that can’t be right. He has so many friends and he’s popular. “So why are you out here shaking like a leaf with no jacket and looking like you just lost your best friend?”

“That’s perceptive,” I say.

“I play hockey. I’m aware of my surroundings, and I have a gift for reading people, although, maybe it’s not such a great gift because sometimes people are just assholes,” he replies.

“I confronted Blossom about Preston doing drugs and she doesn’t believe me,” I say, seething. “She is so far gone on the guy that she can’t see past his bullshit.”

“Shit. I thought you two were tight.”

“We are. I can’t believe she would think I’d make something like this up.” Anger radiates from me once again.

“So where are you going now?”

I shrug. “I had to get out of there. Preston walked in on our shouting match and it was just too much. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. I’m heading to campus to sit in the library.”

“You can’t just sit in the library all night. And, geez, where is your jacket? It’s freezing.” He takes in my shivering form.

“I left it behind in my haste to get the hell out of there. The idea of him doing coke in our house scares me or turns me off, I don’t know.” I rub my arms for warmth. “He hasn’t even lost his cool either, so I don’t know if I’m overreacting or not. I just don’t like his type.”

“I don’t think you’re overreacting. I wouldn’t put up with the drugs either.” Wolfe takes a step closer and hugs me. Long, strong arms envelop me and, despite the cold temperature, he warms me from the inside out.

“You should come back to my place. Cole and Dec are back, but I’m forcing them to lay low tonight because we have a game tomorrow. So there won’t be any partying, and I’m on dinner duty,” he says. I’m confused. Did he just invite me to his house for dinner?

“Thanks, but I’ll just head over to campus and grab a bite to eat and then maybe get some work done in the library,” I say.

“Rebel, come on. I thought we were past this. Besides, I wouldn’t mind binging a few more episodes of Money Heist.” He gives me a crooked grin I find hard to resist. “You can even get some studying done. My friends can act like idiots and drink too much on occasion, but there are no drugs in our house. And if they act like fools, I’ll punch them in the face.”

“That’s quite the offer. What are you making for dinner?” I ask, raising my left brow.

“Oh, so you’re a picky eater?”

I’m not picky at all. The way I grew up, being picky wasn’t an option, but I play along anyway. “Yes.”

“Chicken breasts, rice, and salad. Does that work?”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?”

“Is that good or bad?” he asks, looking confused. “We try to eat as healthy as possible on the nights we eat in.”

“That would be seriously amazing,” I say, but then I falter mid-step, remembering when Cole was pissed drunk at the Firken and asked me about my leg. “On second thought…” I’m about to cancel.

“What just happened?” Wolfe asks. He watches me intently, like he cares, warm blue eyes zoned in one me. Since I’m not used to having friends other than Holland, I’m still not sure what to make of him or this friendship we seem to have going.

“I just remembered I shouldn’t come to your place,” I blurt, because I’m not a fast thinker and so I wasn’t able to come up with a better excuse.

“Why’s that?” he asks, his lip quirking on one side.

“I don’t hang out with people like your friends. It may be awkward and I don’t want to intrude,” I say quickly and begin to walk away.

“Rebel?” He keeps pace with me and just watches me. “If it’s Cole’s comment at the Firken—”

“No, it’s fine,” I say.

“It’s not fine, and he won’t be inappropriate, because if he is, I will kick his ass. We’ve been friends since grade school, so trust me when I say I can whip his ass, no problem.”

His words shock me. Is he heartless or full of heart? In the meantime, I’m shivering even more.

“Geez, you’re coming home with me.” He links his arm with mine. He smells of sweat and some delicious deodorant or cologne, I’m not sure, but my pheromones are definitely liking it. He takes my backpack and places it on the floor once we’re inside his house.

“Have a seat on the couch. Here’s the remote. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to hop in the shower quickly before I start dinner,” he says, then he pauses and looks at me. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

I’m confused. Is he going to shower or be right back? I take off my Doc Martens and curl up on his couch, hoping I don’t have to deal with his friends when he isn’t around. I scroll through Netflix.

Not even a minute later, Wolfe returns with the same blanket he gave me last time with the Sherpa lining.

“This will warm you up quickly,” he says and covers me with it, tucking in the corners. Is he trying to make me fall for him? Because it’s working like a charm. That can’t be it, though, because Wolfe doesn’t work to get girls.

“I’ll go shower. You good?” he asks.

“Much better. Thank you,” I say, and I watch him walk away, all broad shoulders and tight ass. When he leaves the family room, I bring the blanket to my nose and sniff it. Gosh, it smells delectable.

“Hey.” Cole Davis walks into the room and sits on the other end of the couch. “What’s up?”

I stiffen. “Uh, not much.”

“And you are?” he asks with a grin. He clearly doesn’t remember me from the Firken and the blanket is covering my leg.

“Rebel. I’m Wolfe’s guest,” I clarify, wanting to kick myself for being so awkward.

“Oh yeah? I didn’t know Wolfe was having a guest tonight,” he says in a tone filled with inuendo. I don’t even know how to answer that.

“Was there something else you wanted to watch?” I ask in an attempt to change the tone of the conversation.

“I don’t know. What are you into, baby?” he asks.

I feel the blood drain from my face. Did he just call me baby? Is he trying to hit on me, knowing I’m here with Wolfe? I’ve heard this guy is a callous prick, but this is beyond what I expected. Didn’t Wolfe just say they went to grade school together?

“I’m not your baby,” I say, just as Wolfe enters the room.

“Damn, I took the quickest shower I could, knowing the vultures were out,” he says and smacks Cole in the chest.

Cole laughs. “Come on, just having a little fun. Best friends always share,” he continues.

Wolfe’s face falls into a deadly serious look. “That’s enough, jerk face. There won’t be any sharing here. Rebel will be staying for dinner and you better treat her with respect,” Wolfe demands.

“Fuck,” Cole jeers, looking at me like I may be some magical unicorn or something. Maybe he thinks I’ve voodooed his friend.

“You want to continue watching TV?” Wolfe turns his attention on me. “I’m going into the kitchen to start on dinner.”

“Dude is the best cook in the house, which is weird considering—” Cole starts and then Wolfe smacks him again.

“Fuck, man. Stop with that shit.” Cole swats him away.

I wonder what Cole was going to say about Wolfe.

“I’ll come to the kitchen,” I say, removing the blanket from me and leaving it behind on the couch. I notice immediately when Cole’s eyes land on my leg. His gaze darts to Wolfe, his eyes wide before they quickly shrink back to size.

He doesn’t say anything as I walk by. I wonder if he remembers me from the Firken now. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care. But how do I stop caring?

I follow Wolfe to the kitchen, and the fresh scent of his soap wafts in the air behind him. “You all warmed up now?” he asks.

“Much better.” I nod. My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Blossom. She wants to know where I am. Let her stir a little.

“Everything okay?” Wolfe asks.

“My sister wants to know where I am,” I say. “I’ll let her worry a little longer.”

His lips press together as he walks to the fridge and takes out the chicken breasts along with some lettuce, tomato, and cucumber.

“How was the rest of your weekend?” he asks, and he looks me up and down. Holland’s sweater is way tighter than what I usually wear and dips in the front too.

“It was relaxing. Holland is a workaholic. She basically did homework all weekend. She’s premed so she needs the grades. I got some work done too and just relaxed.”

“You look different.”

“I’m wearing Holland’s clothes.”

He nods. “So you worried about going home all weekend?”

“I think Preston has unofficially moved in. I mean, I knew Blossom would find someone and want to settle down eventually. I just didn’t think it would be with a guy like Preston.”

“That sucks. How does she not see what’s right in front of her?”

“I wish I knew.” I shrug. “How were things with your sister?”

“She’s a senior. I was trying to convince her to leave home for college next year. She’s dealing with some personal stuff and I think she feels bad about leaving my mom alone, but it isn’t fair for her to be responsible for our mother.” He sighs.

“It’s hard. I remember thinking we could help my dad and then there was the accident,” I say. I can’t believe I just mentioned that. I give my head a shake. I’m not going there. “Anyway, I learned the hard way that you can’t help an addict. They need to want to help themselves.”

“I wish Cait understood that. I can’t let her give up on her dreams,” he says as he rinses the chicken, puts it in a corning ware dish, and spices it up. He then begins to pour rice in a pot.

“You seem like a good big brother,” I say.

“I don’t know about that.” He shrugs as he adds salt to the rice.

“Let me help you cut up the salad.”

“You don’t have to. Honestly, you’re my guest.”

“I want to.” I give him a reassuring smile.

He shrugs and gives me a cutting board and knife. I walk over to the sink and wash the vegetables, thinking that this whole situation should be awkward or weird, but it isn’t. I’ve somehow managed to feel relaxed around this hunk of a hockey player, even if my heart skips a beat every time his eyes land on me.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get Blossom to see what’s right in front of her.”

“Can’t help you with that one. I stopped in to say hi to my mom while visiting with my sister and she was totally spaced. I don’t even know if it’s her self-medicating or her just ignoring me,” he admits.

“That’s hard. My dad wasn’t a quiet addict. He would go wild and get violent.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Wolfe says quietly as he stirs the rice and boiling water.

I continue slicing the cucumber and tomato. “It’s horrible to say I’m relieved that he’s gone.” I’ve only ever admitted that out loud to Blossom so I don’t know why I just did now, but it feels good to say none the less. My father had become a tyrant. His death felt like a new freedom. I finish chopping the veggies and add everything to a bowl Wolfe gives me.

“Not really. I mean, I don’t want my father to die or anything. We just don’t get along. He’s obsessed with working and he doesn’t give a shit about our family. Even now, he chooses to work out of state, even though Mom is in shambles and my sister… it doesn’t matter. Point is, I don’t want him dead, I just want him giving a shit.” He looks sad after his admission.

I place my hand on his arm, possibly to console him. I do it without thinking, and he turns to me, his eyes lock with mine, and from here I can see how truly blue they are. But they aren’t just blue. Close to the pupil is a light hue of green and the outer part of his eye is outlined in a dark blue circle. He is breathtaking. His gaze drops to my lips, and I think he’s going to kiss me as he drops his head ever so slowly toward me. Every nerve in my body tingles and something warm swims low in my belly.

“Is dinner—” Cole walks through the door and Wolfe pulls away from me. My hand drops from his arm and I see Cole with his jaw dropped. “Sorry, I-I...”

“It’s fine,” Wolfe snaps as he turns to check on the chicken in the oven. “Chicken needs another fifteen,” he says, sounding angry.

My mind is still spinning over the fact that Wolfe almost kissed me. I thought he didn’t think of me in that way. We’re friends. That’s what he said.

“Dec isn’t coming for dinner. Said he’s busy,” Cole informs us.

“Cool, more for us.” Wolfe nods, but he seems distant or, I don’t know, maybe agitated?

Cole leaves the kitchen and Wolfe stays quiet. Is he unhappy about the moment we just had? He said he saw me as a friend, but what on earth just happened between us? Was it the intimate conversation? I’ve never had a friend who was a boy, or guy for that matter, before.

“If you have work that needs to get done you can hang out and do it after dinner,” he offers.

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I think I’ll head to the library after dinner. It’s my night off from the Firken and I need to get some assignments completed,” I say.

“Well, it’s quiet here, but suit yourself,” he replies.

“Is everything okay?” I ask. I much prefer the talkative Wolfe over this moping and silent Wolfe.

“Fine,” he answers.

Okay then.

I offer to set the table and he gives me some paper plates and plastic forks and knives saying that none of them can agree to do dishes so they go disposable.

I take a seat at the table when Cole swings back through the kitchen door. “It’s raining and snowing.”

Great, and I don’t have a jacket. So much for the library. I really don’t want to go back home to listen to Preston and Blossom going at it.

Wolfe places the food on the table and we all serve ourselves.

“This looks really good,” I say to Wolfe.

“Told you. He’s the best cook in the house. He got his nanny to teach him how to cook before he moved in here,” Cole says.

“Shut the fuck up,” Wolfe says to him curtly.

“Your nanny?” I ask Wolfe.

“She’s my family’s housekeeper,” he says, and I wonder what that’s all about because I remember him saying that he was at Westfall on full scholarship and couldn’t lose it. Not your business, Rebel.

“So, do you live on campus?” Cole asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’ve got a house around the corner from here.”

“Cool.” Cole nods. “Is that hot waitress from the Firken your roommate?”

So he does remember me from there. Dammit.

“No, I live with my sister. The house used to belong to our parents.”

“So, you grew up in Westfall?” Cole asks.

“I did.” I nod.

“What’s with the twenty questions?” Wolfe snaps.

“I’m just making polite conversation with your guest,” Cole answers.

Wolfe doesn’t respond, but he does stab the fork into his chicken breast with extra force. I wonder what’s eating him.

The remainder of dinner is silent. I praise Wolfe’s good cooking skills and he grunts in return. I don’t know where the friendly talkative guy from earlier went. I’m not liking this silent brooding version of him, though.

I help Cole clean up dinner since he’s on cleaning duty. Wolfe stands off to the side, his hip against the kitchen counter as he scrolls through his phone. His perma-frown is still plastered on his lips.

When everything is clean, I look at Wolfe, his wide shoulders, his icy blue eyes. His personality is hot and cold tonight, which feels like whiplash.

“All done,” I say.

He looks up from his phone. Cole mutters a thank you and says he’s going to hook up with some chick. He leaves the kitchen.

“Do you want to get your work done here?” Wolfe offers.

“I don’t think so.” My voice comes out curt.

“Why?” he asks, like he’s confused.

“Because you didn’t say one word during dinner,” I retort, as if it isn’t obvious.

“So I wasn’t in the mood to talk. You can still stay.”

“I think it’s best I go.” I walk past him out to the main room that leads to the entrance of the house. “Thanks again for dinner.”

“Well, I’m driving you. The weather is a mess. There’s no way you’re walking home without a jacket on,” he insists.

“Are you always so demanding? Or are you just used to getting what you want?” I cock my brow and wait.

“Is this about the nanny thing? Because it’s not who I am. What I told you was the truth. I don’t have much money because I don’t want anything from my parents. I get by on my own,” he explains.

“Good for you,” I say. Why does he feel the need to explain himself if he still wants to act like an asshole?

He blows out a harsh breath like I exasperate him. “I’m still driving you home.”

“Fine,” I snap, even though I don’t know why I do. Him driving me is a nice gesture. It’s just his attitude that stinks.

For some reason he grins. “Let’s go, Rebel.”

He passes me his coat and tells me to put it on. It’s so big on me, I practically swim in it. He puts on his hockey jacket and we head out the door. I take a quick sniff of his coat. It smells like his body wash and personal scent. A grin escapes my lips. Wolfe can be so frustrating but so chivalrous too.