Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens

Nineteen

Rebel

“Don’t think I didn’t notice him sneaking back here,” Holland says as she drops off more dishes at my station. At this rate I’m never getting out of here tonight. I’m guessing it’s because finals are coming up and some students just need a break.

I blush.

“He’s coming to your place of work. He’s invading every part of your life and you still want to call this a hookup? I’m not trying to be the bearer of bad news, but Wolfe Judd isn’t boyfriend material. I’ve heard horror stories, and I know you. You’re falling for him,” she says.

“He’s different with me. I can’t explain it, but I don’t see the heartless prick everyone talks about. He’s sweet and caring.”

“Oh, shit. You have it bad. Come, let’s head out to the dock,” she says, because its break time.

I remove my gloves and dry my hands. It’s late and I’m tired, but the thought of going back to Wolfe’s place has me wired.

“I do have it bad,” I admit, sulking. I turn around to make sure no one is in earshot and then whisper, “He wants me to spend the night at his place tonight. I haven’t been with anyone since Trevor. I’m nervous and…”

“You actually want to go there with him?” Holland asks, shocked. “He’s a hit it and run kind of guy.”

“I don’t think he’ll be that way with me. I can’t say I’m totally sure of it, but I just can’t believe that after everything we’ve shared he would drop me like a sack of potatoes.”

“He’s done it many times before.” She gives me a pointed look.

“I have to take the chance. My heart is already on the line. He’s in a position to hurt me now, and yet I still want this. I want him.”

Holland leans in to hug me. “Then go for it, babe. Have a good time.” A resigned smile graces her lips and I know she’s right. This is about a good time. Wolfe has admitted the same to me. I’ll just take what I can get.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “He’s going to pick me up after my shift, so I won’t need a ride tonight.”

“Okay.” She nods and then squeals quietly. “I’m excited for you, Rebel, and jealous too.”

“I’m not one to talk, but guys hit on you all the time. You just don’t give them a second glance,” I say.

“I’m always so damn busy with school. There’s never any time for me,” she says.

“Maybe you should consider making time.”

“And risk my grades? Never.” She’s seriously obsessed with becoming a doctor. I guess that’s what makes her happy.

“You have needs,” I tell her.

“And one of those football players passed me his number. I’m thinking of just hooking up with him. I really don’t have time for anything else, and I do have needs that have long been neglected.”

“Honestly, if you would have said this to me even a few months ago, I would tell you no way. But now that I’m feeling what I am with Wolfe, I want you to have it too. It’s exhilarating and…”

Matt walks by us and gives me the stink-eye. “It’s like I don’t know you anymore,” he says to me. Then he continues to walk toward the supply closet.

“What the hell was that about?” Holland asks, her lip curving in disgust.

“He may have accidentally walked in on me and Wolfe making out in the supply closet,” I say bashfully.

“Rebel, you’re starting to live up to your namesake.” She rolls her eyes.

“May as well, right?” I snicker.

“Yeah,” Holland answers, but her tone sounds defeated or maybe wistful?

We head back inside and I get back to work washing dishes. I don’t like having conflict with a coworker, but there is nothing I can do about not being into Matt. He just has to accept that.

At the end of the night, I text Wolfe and he comes to pick me up. My heart beats fast as I get into his car. I don’t know if it’s from the anticipation of seeing him or the fact that I’m nervous.

He leans over and gives me a peck on the lips. It may have been a while since I had a boyfriend, but as far as I can remember he is sure acting like one. It messes with my head.

“How was the rest of your night?” he asks.

“Mostly uneventful. Matt seems to be giving me attitude,” I tell him.

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t know what his problem is. I told him I wasn’t interested in dating in general and then he caught us together, but it’s honestly none of his business. I’m allowed to change my mind. I don’t owe him an explanation as to why he’s not my type.”

Wolfe grins. “Oh yeah? What is your type?” he asks playfully as his hand rests on my upper thigh.

A certain hockey player with the most amazing blue eyes.

“Oh, you know, the really nerdy types who stay home and do lots of homework. Maybe dark eyes and dark hair,” I answer, wanting to play with him since I’ve described his exact opposite.

“Hell no. That is not your type. You wouldn’t react to me the way you do if it were.” He looks at me sideways with narrowed eyes.

I laugh because I love the sound of that slight insecurity in his tone. “Speaking of reactions. You should know I haven’t been with anyone since my junior year of high school,” I admit. I’ve probably picked the most awkward time to tell him, but I can’t help thinking it and I needed him to know.

Wolfe stays quiet. Say something. Anything.

“Say something,” I whisper nervously.

“I went to watch the guys play against Yale tonight,” he says, and my stomach sinks from his deflection. “They won the game, but that wasn’t the craziest part of the evening.”

“No? What was?” An uneasy feeling washes through me as to where this conversation is headed.

“Coach told me he thinks I have what it takes to enter the draft this year,” he says, and I exhale.

“That’s amazing, Wolfe.” I beam excitedly. Only, when I look at him, his gaze looks heavy and I sense a storm brewing inside him.

“I was excited and thrown off because I was never going to be a pro hockey player, but more than all of that, I wanted to find you and talk to you. My head is messed up and I don’t know what to do, but I just felt like it was something I want to share with you,” he says, and I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but my heart bursts even more. Oh, Wolfe.

“I like our talks too.” I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder because it’s the best I can do while he’s driving. “That’s great news about being able to play. You’ve been working hard with your training and it’s paid off.”

“Thanks,” he says glumly.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“I don’t know what to do about entering the draft. My plan was law school.” His brow furrows.

“That means you can be a professional hockey player, right?”

Wolfe bursts into laughter. “You really don’t know anything about hockey, do you?”

“Not a single thing,” I admit proudly.

His smile spreads his cheeks. “I like that about you.”

“Does that mean if I learn the game and want to come watch you play, you wouldn’t like me anymore?”

“Would you want to come watch me play?” I don’t know what to make of the storm brewing in his eyes or the depth of pain he looks like he is in.

“Of course. I would want to support you.”

He takes my hand and brings it to his lips. “Thanks, Rebel. That means a lot.”

“It should,” I joke. “I hate big crowds or places where I’ll be noticed,” I say, so that he understands he is important to me. That I’m willing to go out of my comfort zone for him. I can’t even believe my own thoughts. But maybe I can, because we’re going to have sex back at his place, and I don’t just give myself to anyone.

“I know, and that means a lot to me. I want you to know that,” he says.

We pull into his driveway. There are another two cars parked one behind the other.

“I don’t know if the guys are back or not. They didn’t take their cars for the game. They may be smashed. Just giving you a heads up,” he warns.

“It’s fine.” I follow Wolfe inside the house. He takes my hand and we go straight to his room. The house is pretty quiet, so I’m guessing we’re the only ones here.

My silly awkwardness returns when he closes the door and looks at me with heat in his eyes. “We can take things slow. I heard what you said in the car about it being a while. I don’t know if this is a good thing to say, but after the game, I went for a bite to eat at a bar with the guys. This chick hit on me,” he says, and I stiffen and it feels like my heart drops.

“Oh?” I say, slinking back.

“I wasn’t interested,” he clarifies, stepping toward me. “I was thinking of you. I said if we did this that it would only be you, and I meant it.”

The tightness in my chest relaxes.

“I want you, Rebel, and it scares the shit out of me.” He sounds so vulnerable.

“I want you too.”

He takes a step toward me and claims my lips. And just like that, I am his.