Chapter 5 Wrinkles incoming

Chapter 005

DARIUS

I walked past her without looking back, feeling the heat of her glare burning into the back of my head. My jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth might crack. Every step away from that rink felt like swallowing glass, and the worst part was knowing she was standing there, probably smirking at my retreating back.

I got to my room and slammed the door harder than I meant to. The sound echoed through the suite, but I did not care. I threw off my shirt, then my trousers, leaving them in a heap on the floor as I stormed into the bathroom.

The moment I turned on the shower, the tryout played out in my head like some kind of torture device I could not switch off.

"Blasted girl," I muttered, stepping under the cold spray. "What, is she sent after my life or something?"

The water did nothing to cool the rage simmering under my skin. I could still see her face, that infuriating confidence in her eyes when she looked at me. Like she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she was enjoying every second of getting under my skin.

My phone rang on the stand beside the sink, the sound cutting through my thoughts. I reached out, water dripping from my arm, and grabbed it.

"What?" I snapped.

"Well, hello to you too," Dorian's voice came through, light and amused. "Where are you? I am already at Angela's. I have been sitting here for twenty minutes."

My stomach dropped. "Shit."

"You forgot, did you not?"

"I..." I had told him I would meet him for dinner at Angela's. Hours ago, before the tryouts, before that girl had walked into my life and turned everything upside down. "I am on my way."

"Sure you are," Dorian said, and I could hear the grin in his voice. "See you when you get here. If you get here."

He hung up before I could reply.

I stood there under the water for another moment, trying to gather myself. Then I turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel. My reflection in the mirror showed exactly what I felt like: furious, wound tight, ready to snap.

I walked out of the bathroom, water still dripping from my hair, and went straight to my wardrobe. I pulled on a black pair of trousers and a body-hugging shirt that showed every line of muscle I had worked for. Not that I cared what anyone thought. I grabbed a face cap and pulled it low over my eyes, then walked out of my suite.

The moment I stepped into the corridor, I knew something was different. The academy was buzzing. Groups of students stood in clusters, their voices rising and falling in excited whispers. I caught fragments as I walked past.

"Did you hear about the girl?"

"On the men's hockey team, can you believe it?"

"The biker girl, the one with the red hair."

"She actually earned a jersey. Coach Bonn never lets anyone on that easily."

My hands curled into fists at my sides. Every word felt like sandpaper against my nerves. It did not sit well with me. None of it did. The fact that she was on the team, the fact that everyone was talking about her, the fact that I could not stop thinking about the way she had moved on the ice.

I wanted to strangle her.

Angela's was packed when I got there, the usual Friday night crowd filling every table and booth. The smell of grilled meat and chips hit me as soon as I walked in, along with the noise of dozens of conversations happening at once. I spotted Dorian immediately at our usual spot in the back corner, a booth with a clear view of the entrance.

I started towards him, weaving between tables, but then I heard it. More whispers. Rising above the general noise like a wave.

"Is that her?"

"Oh my God, it is."

"The girl from the hockey team."

I turned, already knowing what I would see. That familiar red hair, bright as a warning sign, by the counter near the entrance. She stood there with another girl beside her, both of them looking at the menu board above the register.

I hissed under my breath, loud enough that a couple at the nearest table looked at me. I did not care. I turned away and walked the rest of the way to the booth, settling into the seat across from Dorian with a scowl that could have curdled milk.

Dorian looked at me, then past me towards the counter, then back at me. A slow grin spread across his face.

"Do not even start," I warned him.

"I did not say anything."

"You are thinking it."

"Oh, I am thinking a lot of things," Dorian said, leaning back in his seat. "But mostly I am thinking you look like you are about to combust."

"I am fine."

"Right. And I am the Queen of England."

I was about to tell him exactly where he could shove his commentary when I saw them. Raven and her friend, walking past our booth with trays of food in their hands. They were heading towards the other side of the restaurant, but Dorian, because he apparently had a death wish, called out to them.

"Hey! Raven, right?"

I stared at him. Actually stared. My eyes must have been the size of plates because he just shrugged at me like he had not just committed treason.

Raven stopped, turning to look at us. Her friend clutched her tray a little tighter, eyes darting between me and Dorian.

"Yeah?" Raven said, her voice cautious.

"Why do you not join us? We have space." Dorian gestured at the booth, which was absolutely large enough for four people.

"Dorian," I called, my voice low and dangerous. "What are you doing?"

"Being friendly," he muttered simply. "She is part of the team now. We might as well get used to it."

I leaned across the table, keeping my voice quiet enough that only he could hear. "You can go join them over there, or you can stay here with me. Choose."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious right now?"

"Deadly."

Raven, who had clearly heard at least part of this exchange, spoke up. "Do not worry about it. We will just settle somewhere over there." She nodded towards an empty table near the window.

She started to turn away, but then she looked back at me. Really looked at me, her hazel eyes sharp and amused.

"Stop scowling," she grinned widely like it was funny. "Or you will get wrinkles. You look so old already though, why make it worse?"

And then she winked. Actually winked at me. Then her friend practically dragged her away before I could respond.

I sat there, frozen, not quite believing what had just happened. Dorian burst out laughing, the sound loud enough to draw stares from half the restaurant.

"It is not funny," I said through gritted teeth.

"It really is, though."

"Stop laughing, or I am leaving."

Dorian tried. He genuinely tried to stop. His shoulders shook with the effort, and he pressed his lips together, but his eyes were still bright with laughter. I glared at him until he finally got himself under control, though I could tell it was a near thing.

"You are impossible," I muttered, picking up the menu even though I already knew what I was going to order.

"And you are wound tighter than a spring," Dorian shot back with a faint smile. "When was the last time someone talked to you like that?"

Never. The answer was never. No one talked to me like that. I was Darius Pike, heir to the Alpha of the Northern Pack, captain of the academy's hockey team, top of my class. People did not wink at me and tell me I looked old.

I did not have an answer for him, so I said nothing. We ordered our food, and I did my best to ignore the fact that Raven was sitting twenty feet away, laughing at something her friend said.

I did my best to ignore the way my wolf kept pacing inside me, restless and agitated.

I did my best. But it wasn't enough.