44
Garrett
I’m grinning like the town idiot. And now is not the time to be grinning like the town idiot, not when I’m buck naked in a room full of showering dudes and my girlfriend is glaring daggers at me. But I’m so happy to see her that I can’t control my facial muscles.
My eyes eat up the sight of her. Her gorgeous face. Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail with a pink hair thingie. Infuriated green eyes.
She’s so damn hot when she’s mad at me.
“It’s nice to see you too, baby,” I answer cheerfully. “How was your break?”
“Don’t you baby me. And don’t ask about my break because you don’t deserve to know about it!” Hannah glowers at me, then shifts her attention to the three hockey players in the neighboring stalls. “For the love of Pete, would you guys just rinse off and skedaddle already? I’m trying to yell at your captain.”
I choke back a laugh, which ends up spilling out when my teammates snap to attention like they’ve been issued a command by a drill sergeant. Showers turn off and towels come out, and a moment later, Hannah and I are alone.
I shut off the faucet and turn around. The shower door does a good job of hiding my downstairs area, but all Hannah has to do is peek over and she’ll get an eyeful of my quickly hardening dick, who is unbelievably happy to see her.
But she doesn’t sneak a peek. She simply keeps glaring at me. “You invoked a campus-wide hands-off law? Are you kidding me?”
I’m not at all remorseful as I meet her eyes. “Of course I did.”
“Oh my God. You are unbelievable.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Who does that, Garrett? You can’t just go around and tell all the guys at this school that they’re not allowed to touch me or you’ll kick their asses!”
“I didn’t tell all the guys. Do I look like I have that kind of time?” I flash a grin. “I told a few key people and made sure they spread the word.”
“What, if you can’t have me no one else can?” she says darkly.
I snicker. “Well, that’s just insane. I’m not a psycho, babe. I was doing it for your sake.”
Her jaw drops. “How the hell do you figure that?”
“Because you’re in love with me, and you don’t want to date anyone else. But see, I was afraid your stubborn self would try to do it just to back up your cover story, so I had to take some preventative measures.” I prop my forearms on the stall door. “I knew if you went out with anyone else you’d end up regretting it, and then you’d feel like an ass when you finally came to your senses, and, well, I wanted to spare you all that pain and suffering. You’re welcome.”
She looks stunned for a moment.
Then she starts to laugh.
Jesus, I’ve missed the sound of her laughter. I’m tempted to hop over the little door and kiss the crap out of her, but I don’t get the chance.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Hannah jumps in surprise when Coach Jensen appears in the shower area.
“Oh, hey, Coach,” I call out. “Not what it looks like.”
His dark brows knit in a displeased frown. “It looks like you’re taking a shower in front of your girlfriend. In my locker room.”
“Okay, then yeah, it’s what it looks like. But I promise, it’s all very PG. Well, except for the fact that I’m naked. But don’t worry, no kinky shit is going to happen.” I grin at him. “I’m trying to win her back.”
Coach’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. I can’t tell if he’s amused or pissed or ready to wash his hands of this whole thing. Finally, he nods and opts for option number three. “Carry on.”
Coach shakes his head to himself as he ambles off, and I turn back to Hannah in time to see her trying to sneak away.
“Oh, hell no,” I announce. “No way, Wellsy.” I snatch my towel and wrap it around my waist as I stumble out of the stall. “You’re not running off on me.”
“I came here to yell at you,” she stammers, her gaze dipping to her feet. “And now I’m done yelling at you, so…”
She yelps when my wet hands cup her cheeks to force her to look at me. “Great, you’re done yelling. Now I want you to talk to me, and you’re not leaving until you do.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Tough cookies.” I search her agonized expression. “Why did you break up with me?”
“I already told you—”
“I know what you told me. I didn’t believe you then and I don’t believe you now.” I set my jaw. “Why did you break up with me?”
A shaky breath leaves her mouth. “Because we were moving too fast.”
“Bullshit. Why did you break up with me?”
“Because I wanted to see other people.”
“Try again. Why did you break up with me?”
When she doesn’t answer, frustration blasts through me, and I react by crashing my mouth down on hers. I kiss her roughly, desperately, the days and weeks of missing her catching up to me and pouring out in the form of deep, hungry kisses that leave us both breathless. She doesn’t pull away. She just kisses me back with the same unchecked passion, her hands clinging to my wet shoulders like she’s lost at sea and I’m her life preserver.
That’s how I know she still loves me. That’s how I know she missed me as much as I missed her. And that’s why I wrench my mouth away and whisper, “Why did you break up with me?”
Her anguished gaze locks with mine. Her bottom lip quivers, and as several seconds tick by, I wonder if she’s going to answer me. I wonder if—
“Because your father told me to.”
The shock almost knocks me off my feet. As my equilibrium turns into a seesaw, I drop my hands to my sides and stare at her, unable to comprehend what I just heard.
I swallow. Then I swallow again. “What?”
“Your father told me to end it,” she admits. “He said that if I didn’t, he’d—”
I hold up my hand to silence her. I’m too stunned to listen. Too enraged to move. I force myself to breathe. Long, calming breaths that help steady my wonky balance and clear my foggy head. Then I exhale in a slow rush and run a hand through my damp hair.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I say quietly. “You’re going to wait outside for me while I get dressed, and then you and I are going to—I don’t care where we go. Your dorm, my car, anywhere. We’re going to go somewhere, and you’re going to tell me every word that son of a bitch said to you.” I take another breath. “You’re going to tell me everything.”