CHAPTER 41
ZION
As we pull up to the party, I can already feel the tension clawing at my insides. Winter's intoxicating scent has filled the car, making it hard to focus on the road. I need space. I need air. The moment the car stops, I fling open the door and storm out, not even glancing back. I hear Clark call after me, but I ignore him, my only goal to put as much distance between me and Winter as possible.
Clark calls again, but I don't stop. I hear him saying something about catching up later, but his voice is just background noise now. I need to get away from her, from him, from this whole messed-up situation.
I stalk towards the house, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. The early evening air is cool, a welcome contrast to the suffocating heat in the car. As I enter the house, I notice only a few people have arrived.
The music plays softly, more like a gentle background noise than the heavy bass it will turn into later. The dim lights create a cozy atmosphere in the room, illuminating groups of early arrivals who are chatting and laughing together.
I make a beeline for the makeshift bar in the corner. It’s a simple setup—a long table with various bottles of liquor, a cooler full of beer, and a makeshift sign that says "Bar." I slide onto a stool, nodding at the bartender who’s setting up. He hands me a cold beer, and I take a long, satisfying pull.
"Beer," I say curtly. He hands me a cold bottle, and I take a long, hard pull, trying to calm my nerves.
The icy liquid does little to cool the simmering anger and confusion inside me. Winter.
Her scent.
Her presence.
It's all too much.
I take another swig, trying to drown the thoughts of her, trying to calm the nerves that have been on edge since she stepped out of the house in that damn dress.
Clark had asked her to be his date. So why was I so tense? I was the one who said he could go for it. So why did it feel like my chest was being crushed?
I took a large gulp of my beer and slammed the glass down on the table, the loud thud echoing my frustration. Just then, Clark walked in with Winter.
My gaze zeroed in on his hand wrapped around her waist. My grip on the glass tightened, an urge to rip his hand away and crush it surging through me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Clark is my best friend.
I repeated it to myself like a mantra.
Fuck.
I wasn’t worried about Winter. That's right.
I was worried about Clark. He might come across as a bad boy, but deep down, he was a real softy. Yeah, that’s it—I was worried Winter would hurt him, just like she’s hurt everyone else I care about.
I clenched my fists, trying to convince myself that this had nothing to do with Winter herself. It was all about protecting Clark. But the truth was, seeing them together felt like a punch to the gut.
I forced myself to look away, focusing on anything but them. Clark is a grown man; he can handle himself.
Yeah, that’s right.
I won’t let her presence ruin my evening.
The party hasn’t kicked into full gear yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time before it’s packed. I scan the room, taking in the faces, the decorations, the low hum of excitement in the air. Usually, this kind of scene is my playground—women, drinks, and no strings attached.
The bartender hands me another beer without me asking, and I nod my thanks, downing it almost as quickly as the first. The alcohol starts to work its way through my system, dulling the edges of my agitation. I need to lose myself tonight, to forget about Winter and everything she stirs up inside me.
I take swig of my beer, leaning against the bar and trying to shake off the tension. Winter’s scent, her presence, her everything is still lingering in my mind, and it pisses me off. I’ve got to get a grip. There’s no way I’m letting her mess with my head like this.
...........
Less than thirty minutes later, the house was packed with girls, all vying for my attention. An eager blonde was on her knees, her mouth working my dick. I tried to focus on the sensation, but it wasn’t really doing it for me. My mind kept drifting back to her—Winter—her sexy body pressed against mine, a whimper escaping her lips as I held her tight in her bedroom.
Damn it.
I tightened my grip on the blonde’s short auburn hair, forcing her head down further. She gagged, tears springing to her eyes. Finally, I came, spilling down her throat as she struggled to swallow.
"Leave," I ordered, fastening my jeans with jerky, angry movements and pointing towards the door. Like the obedient little minion she was, she scrambled to her feet and left without a word. Women. So damn easy. Always ready to spread their legs or open their mouths.
Still pissed off about Winter invading my mind even during a blowjob from another woman, I headed into the kitchen, desperate for something stronger.
Ronald, a teammate from the ice hockey team, was already there, pulling a beer out of the fridge. He turned and saw me. “Catch.” He tossed me the beer in his hand and reached into the fridge for another.
I popped the top and raised the bottle in a silent salute. Ronald did the same, and we both took a swig. The cool liquid slid down my throat, momentarily soothing the frustration boiling inside me.
Ronald snagged another beer from the fridge, effortlessly popping the cap and taking a deep gulp. With a smirk, he turned to me and said,
“Did you catch that gorgeously hot girl Clark brought along? She’s a real knockout. Wonder if Clark’s open to sharing, huh?”
My grip tightened around the bottle, the urge to smash it over his head flashing through my mind. I didn’t like the way he talked about her, like she was some object to be ogled. It made my blood boil.
“She’s off-limits, Ronald,” I said, my tone firm. “So watch your mouth when you talk about her.”
Ronald raised an eyebrow. “Why, who is she to you?”
“None of your fuc*ing business,” I snapped, my irritation barely contained, and exited the kitchen, only to collide with a soft, warm body.
A jolt of heat shot up my spine, goosebumps breaking out all over my skin. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. My cock stirred to life at just that touch.
Winter.
Fucking Winter.
Fuck.
She was so incredibly beautiful, and she didn’t even seem to realize it. Her long, silky brown hair, those piercing blue eyes framed by dark lashes, her smooth, pale skin, and curves in all the right places made her absolutely perfect in every way. My dick stirred as I remembered how her hips had swayed when she walked towards the car, and how her pouty lips had parted, her eyes hazy with desire when I’d been all up in her face after her shower.
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck.
My physical reaction made me hate her even more. I could get any woman at this party with a snap of my fingers, and I fucking hated that my mind had fixated on the one person I despised.
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