Chapter 32: Rinkmates: Chapter 32

I don’t cuddle.

I don’t cling.

I don’t wait until I make plans before I ask a girl what she is doing.

But I do it all with Liora.

And it’s all me.

She doesn’t even want me clinging to her like a damn nettle, but I just can’t help it. And she knows it. She even convinced me to join her on the ice, during my one week off when I’m supposed to rest and relax. Am I out of my mind?

I mean, do I want to wear flashy ice-skating outfits?

No.

Do I want to swap hockey skates for ice-skating shoes?

No.

Am I doing it because she asked?

Hell yes.

I can’t say no to that face.

Maybe she’s cast some kind of witchcraft on me because this isn’t how I usually roll. Is it possible that I’m sick? Because no matter what happens, the way she makes me feel won’t go away anytime soon. Or ever. I don’t think anyone can make me feel this alive.

The rest of the week goes smoothly, and it feels like I’m in a little bubble with Liora. We spend our evenings watching Disney movies, and she can’t help but laugh at me when I get emotional over them. While I hate that they make me cry—sometimes, and only briefly, like, one tear at a time—there’s just something special about seeing cartoon characters do everything for the ones they love. She mentioned not having a favorite cereal, so I bought a variety of options and had her taste each one until she declared her love for Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes. It may not have been my first choice, but now we can enjoy cereal together.

Despite all the cute and sweet moments, there’s something else going on with Liora and she won’t tell me what it is. I’ve tried asking about her tattoos and the Olympics, but she always steers the conversation in a different direction. And I’m terrified that if I push too hard, she’ll pull away from me for good. It’s another new feeling for me—usually I’m the one doing the pushing, not pulling.

I’ve been busy with games against the Hurricanes, and tomorrow will be our last home game against them before we potentially move on to the finals against the Florida Bay Blazes. If we win, we have two weeks off.

Another dream come true is getting to fuck Liora the minute I come home. And fuck do we have mind-blowing sex. I can never get enough of her. After I’m finished pleasing her today, I make my way up her bare legs and settle on top of her abdomen. It’s the first time I’ve noticed a faint white scar there. It’s a horizontal line across the lower abdomen, just above the pubic hairline. I wouldn’t have seen it since the scar has already faded to a pale white, but I notice it while I stroke over her stomach; it’s lightly raised compared to the surrounding skin.

“Where did you get that scar from?” I ask, caressing it.

She stiffens and I wonder if I’ve asked the wrong thing.

“It’s been a long time. Long story. Oh, and Riley, your sister is calling.”

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. What a convenient time for Rosalie to call.

Liora is a pro at avoiding questions.

It’s something she’s been doing for a while now. She doesn’t hesitate to share stories about her mom and how the trailer community has become like family to her, or how she cooks for her eighty-year-old neighbor. But when it comes to certain topics, she shuts down. I brought it up with my therapist, and he advised me not to push her on those sensitive issues. His advice still rings in my ears, sound and clear:

Sometimes, people find it challenging to open up about painful experiences, even with those they care about. It’s essential to respect their boundaries and allow them the space they need to process things in their own time.

It’s hard to wait but I have to.

It’s her story to tell.

“Can you give me my phone?” I say, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Sure.” She leans over, and that scar is all I can see.

Questions over questions over questions swarm in my mind.

I just hope no one hurt her. Maybe she’s not telling me because she knows I’ll kill anyone who did hurt her.

“Riles!” My little sister’s high-pitched voice blasts out of my phone.

I put her on Speaker so that Liora can get a taste of what she’ll have to handle in a few days. I have never introduced a girl to my parents before. The idea of someone discovering their true nature has always terrified me. Being in their presence was nerve-wracking enough, but just the mere idea of her accompanying me, knowing that there’s something worth loving, somehow makes facing my parents less daunting.

I roll my eyes and Liora plays with my hair, the way it soothes me. In this regard, I’m like a dog. Easily pleased.

“Rosalie,” I grunt back. “What do you want?”

“Riley Richard Huntington. Are you purposely trying to avoid your favorite sibling? And what kind of question is that? What do I want?” She mimics my every word like a cartoon character on steroids. “Is it so hard to believe that I just want to hear your beautiful voice and make sure you’re still alive?” she huffs, feigning offense.

“You’re my only sibling, and yes, you never call unless you need something.”

“Riley, has anyone ever told you that your communication skills are severely lacking? Perhaps next time, try something along the lines of: ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t the nicest sister in all the land. How has your dancing been going, dearest Rosalie?’”

Liora stifles a giggle, and I’m on the verge of chucking my phone out the window. What did my therapist say? In stressful situations, breathe. So I do. I fucking breathe. And again. Slow and steady until it’s the most aggressive breathing I’ve ever heard. “How’s that dancing of yours coming along, Rosalie?”

“Amazing! Thank you so much for asking. I landed the lead role in Swan Lake and it’s going to be epic. But, ugh, Julliard is so rigid and uptight. Can’t wait to be done with it,” she complains in typical Rosie fashion. She always finds something to complain about, even when things are going well for her. She can’t help it, it’s a Huntington problem.

When she got accepted into Julliard, I couldn’t believe it. My free-spirited sister, who spent her summers in Europe partying with friends and trying to convert people to veganism and a hippy lifestyle, now spends her days perfecting her ballet moves and rubbing elbows with the elite of New York City.

It just doesn’t seem like her.

But then again, Dad has always tried to mold her into a refined Upper East Side girl. She used to like animals, ride horses, and feed every stray we met on holiday, but that’s not what Dad wants for her life.

He wants her to become New York’s number one ballerina and marry a rich-ass finance guy. She may be Daddy’s girl on the surface, but I know there’s a wild spirit underneath all that ballet and high society bullshit. The only time I see her truly happy and carefree is when she’s on the beach in Malta, with her hair tousled and surrounded by a sea of hippies. I can only hope one day she breaks free from the chains that are holding her back. Just like I did, but it comes with a price.

You’re practically excluded from the family once you say no to Dad. And Rosalie is not ready for that just yet.

“But there may be one teeny tiny thingy,” she says, and I sigh. Typical.

“What, Rosie? What teeny tiny thingy?”

“Can you take me home when you head to that gala? I have class until late and Dad wants me to show up early, but I can’t make it unless you take me.” I hear her grinning from ear to ear while she orders a vanilla soy latte somewhere.

A three-hour ride with my sister?

Poor Jay.

He’s got to sit with her in the back, and she can be such a pain in the ass.

“Wait a minute.”

She keeps on talking, but I put her on Mute, look up to Liora, and ask, “Is it okay if we take my sister to the Hamptons?”

“Sure, why would you even ask?”

“Because I hoped you’d say no.”

She rolls her eyes. “Rosie missed something. You also lack some social skills.”

I sink my teeth into her thigh, and once she stops hitting me playfully, I put my sister back on Speaker. “So, yeah. We’ll take you.”

Rosalie squeals and I rub the bridge of my nose, because that was so fucking loud.

“It’s three o’clock on Friday then! Can’t wait! Bye Ri, don’t get riled up until then!”

I hang up. “She likes wordplays.”

“Your second name is Dick?”

“Of course, that’s the one thing you take from that awful convo.” My mouth twitches. “Is it too much dick for you?”

“Never.”

She grabs my shoulders and tries to lift me up, but let’s be real, my little spitfire isn’t able to move me an inch. So I crawl up to her, desperate for a kiss.

She suddenly tenses up.

“Riley,” she says, and I wince.

Oh no, I know that tone. What did I do now?

“Is that a picture from one of my commercial shoots hidden in your bookshelf?”

I freeze. Damn it, I forgot about my stash of jack-off material.

“Um, no?” I reply sheepishly.

She smacks my shoulder playfully. “I thought I lost it on the subway and suffered from humiliation for over five months! And you’ve been hoarding it in your room the whole time? Come on, why would you do that?”

In a desperate attempt to avoid explaining myself, I kiss her passionately. Fucking hell. This is embarrassing.

“Riley,” she pushes me away with a cute frown on her face.

“Okay fine, confession time. Yes, I took it because I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else ogling your perfect ass.”

At first, she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, then she bursts out laughing. “Are you serious?”

I sigh and nod reluctantly. “I wish I wasn’t.”

But I’m not about to tell her what other naughty things I did with that photo. Fuck no.

She continues giggling before her cheeks turn red and I can tell she’s getting turned on by the idea of—well, I have no idea of what exactly. I like to think it’s because I protect her ass with all my might.

The downside of her being turned on? I have a boner now, too, and we’re supposed to be getting ready for practice. But fortunately, I’m skilled in the art of problem-solving. With a mischievous grin, I scoop her up princess style and carry her off toward the bathroom.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Riley, what are you doing?”

I just wink and say, “Just making sure we’re not running late.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but my body gives me away and I feel a familiar stirring between my legs. The minute it does, her gaze transforms into one of desire. I carry her toward the shower, turning on the water and letting it cascade over us. I let her down and gently hold her face in my hands while I kiss her. A few seconds later, the room is filled with hot steam while water rains down on us.

My hands glide along her curves, over her wet skin, while hers explore every inch of my body. I’ll never get enough of it. I take my time to run my fingers up and down those gorgeous tits and then smooth my hands over her firm ass. I lower my head and kiss her neck, and when she gives me that guttural sound I love so much, I encircle her breasts—kneading them, teasing those nipples with my fingernails all the while my penis presses firmly against her. Fuck. I can feel it against her stomach as I rub it against her skin.

I glance at her through my eyelashes, just to take her in. So beautiful. No matter what she thinks. She’s mine. All of her is mine.

The water drips from her nose and she looks up at me—as if I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to her, and something inside of me wishes it were true.

I want to be the best thing for her.

“I can’t believe you still look at me like that,” she says.

“Like what?”

“Like—”

“Like you’re everything I ever wished for? Like you’re the girl I’ve always wanted but never thought I deserved? Then yes—this is exactly how I look.”

Her hands wrap fiercely around my neck as our lips crash together in a wild, uninhibited kiss. Desire surges through me like a tidal wave and I kiss her back with all the pent-up longing I’ve held for her. She rises onto her tiptoes, swaying unsteadily, and I catch her as we stumble against the tiles. Turning her around, I kiss and nibble at her neck and shoulders. When she grinds her wet ass against my throbbing cock, my self-control starts to crumble. I grasp her tightly while she circles her hips, driving me crazy. Her whimpers shoot directly to my cock, and I slide my fingers between her legs, greedily plunging into her. Our bodies move and move—I can’t help but groan from the intense pleasure.

Damn. I need her closer.

And just like that, she turns around.

I slam my hand against the wall behind her and grab her ass roughly, pulling her toward me until our bodies are pressed together. Our mouths crash hungrily, and I devour her with my tongue. My other hand moves to her waist, and I grind against her.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps, and I slip a finger inside of her, pumping it in and out at an increasingly faster pace.

I feel every moan and shudder coming from her body, responding to my touch.

“You want me inside you, baby?” I say, watching as water streams down her flushed face.

She nods eagerly and I use my thumb to rub circles over her swollen nub, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Gasping for air, she reaches for my cock, but I pin her hand with my pelvis, denying her for now.

She jerks her hips toward me. “Riley.” Oh, that pathetic, desperate sound. I love it so much.

“What do you want?” I nip at her bottom lip teasingly as I continue to thrust my finger in and out of her. Fuck she’s so undone. It’s everything I ever wanted.

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

Her eyes burn with desire as she stares back at me. “You.”

“And where do you want me?” I twist my finger inside of her, hitting a spot that makes her cry out in pleasure.

“Right here.”

“Say it.” My vision blurs with desire. She’s getting wetter and it has nothing to do with the shower.

“Say it, baby.” My gaze roams over her face, taking in every detail while my cock strains against her hand—hard and pulsing.

“Your damn cock,” she says between moans.

“Where?” I push my finger deeper, hitting that spot again and again. My fingers are so slick with her arousal.

“Oh fuck. I need…”

“Say it.” My voice is low and husky as I watch her unravel under my touch.

“I want your cock inside of me,” she cries out, lost in the moment.

And with that, I finally give her what she wants.

I hoist her up and plunge into her wetness with a primal intensity that only adds to the heat of the steamy shower.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” I whisper against her lips.

With flushed cheeks, she cries out again and I fuck her harder.

She feels so good. So fucking good.

She gasps against my neck, wraps her legs tighter around me as I thrust into her again and again. We set a rhythm that’s both harsh and oh so fucking perfect at the same time. When she lowers her head, he licks over my nipple, and I let out a deep sigh. Tendrils of pleasure coil around limbs when her warm, wet mouth envelops them, an almost-pain I wanted more of.

I grasp her breast roughly, my other hand squeezing her tight ass as I circle and twist her nipple. My hips thrust relentlessly, hitting her clit over and over.

“Fucking hell.” I let out a slow hiss. “You want more?”

She whimpers in response. But instead of giving her more, I stop—a wicked smile on my face.

“Did I take away your ability to speak? I asked if you want more.”

“Yes. Yes. I-I’m coming,” she stammers out.

I pause again, relishing in her desperation. “Yes, what?”

She looks up at me with fire in her eyes. “Riley,” she snarls, ready to kill me. “I need more.”

I push forward, feeling the tight resistance of her entrance before pulling out again. “Say please,” I say.

She’s on the verge of screaming at me, but instead, she takes my hips with a ferocity that draws blood from my skin. She grinds her body against mine until my throbbing dick is poised at her dripping entrance again, but I refuse to let her take it in. Absolutely no way.

She has to work for it.

“Say. Please.”

She bites her lip and I push my hips forward, that wet head of my cock teasing her clit again.

“Please,” she chokes out the word and I let my cock glide back into her.

She clings to me and I fuck her against the cold tiles, taking us both to the knife’s edge of insanity. Her warrior gaze is locked on me as she rides wave after wave after wave. I increase my speed and then, with one final thrust, we both explode in a frenzy of shivers. White-hot pleasure blazes through me and I basically collapse against the cold tiles with her in my arms.

“Oh shit,” she gasps.

“This should be illegal,” I pant.

I pull up in front of Juilliard’s main building, a striking, modern structure with shimmering glass walls that gleam amid the artistic pulse of the city. Its design blends sleek contemporary style with subtle nods to classic architecture.

Rosalie’s posted up at the entrance, leaning against massive stone columns like she owns the place. Her pink ballet dress flutters in the breeze and those oversized black shades on her nose could hide a small country. She stands nonchalantly, with her black hair pulled back into a neat bun, one hip cocked to the side, Louis Vuitton bags dangling from each hand. It’s enough of a show to make you forget she’s the same girl who got cuffed for joyriding without a license, partying underage, and running wild with a biker gang for a week last year during spring break. Ladies and gentlemen, my sister.

Jayce, sensing the impending storm, quickly hops out to retrieve her bags. I sigh. That princess always gets what she wants.

“Hey, losers!” she chirps, sliding into the backseat. Sweet perfume mingles with the air and bites at my nose.

Jayce sits down next to Rosalie, and without warning, she throws her feet onto his lap. “Jay, be a darling and give me a foot massage, will you?”

I snarl at her. “Rosie, sit properly.”

She sticks her tongue out at me but complies and pulls her feet back. “You’re all so prudish,” she complains, then turns to Liora with a smile. “Hi, I’m Rosalie, the fun sibling. Sorry about these two, they’ve got broomsticks up their asses.”

Liora chuckles, extending her hand. “I’m Liora, nice to meet you.”

Rosalie takes her hand and shakes it.

“What’s with the sunglasses?” I glance at Rosalie’s shades.

She shrugs. “I’ve been partying a bit, and my eyes are sensitive to sunlight.”

I grunt, hoping that’s all there is to it. My sister’s always been a handful, and I can only pray she hasn’t gotten herself into trouble again. But she’s an elite dancer. She wouldn’t—couldn’t…

As we merge into traffic, Rosalie leans forward, her elbows resting on the front seats. “So, Liora, tell me everything. How did you and my brother meet? I want all the juicy details!”

Liora glances at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “Well, it’s a long story…”

I reach over and squeeze her thigh.

“Ew. Can you stop that?” Rosalie interjects, glancing pointedly at Liora. “I mean, I’ve seen those cringy videos of you two, but I prefer to pretend they don’t exist.”

From the rearview mirror, Jayce looks like he’s been handcuffed. He’s stiff and rigid—while my sister invades his space, hogging the entire backseat for herself. I mouth a silent apology to him, and he grins back knowingly. He’s seen Rosalie in action before. She’s always like this.

Liora launches into our story about meeting at the last gala, and I notice Rosalie tense up this time. I tense up too. Shit.

“Um, the last sports gala Mom hosted. The one in January?” she says.

“Yep,” I mutter, suddenly fascinated by the traffic.

It’s a quiet street, not exactly demanding my full attention, but I stare nonetheless. Damn, I forgot Rosalie was there. She’s been with me all the time. She probably knows better than anyone that I was drunk as a skunk and couldn’t have possibly talked to a girl.

“Just to be clear: is this the same night I had to hoist you into the pool house because you were so determined to win that ridiculous rugby game that you nearly broke your leg?”

I swallow hard. “Yep.”

She turns to Liora again. “Wow, you’ve got low standards, huh?”

“Rosalie!” I yell.

“What? You couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence because your leg hurt so much. You looked like a child who had fallen. The only thing you managed to say was, ‘Where’s the booze?’ while pointing in random directions until someone finally showed you. I can’t believe someone like her would have flirted with you.”

To my surprise, Liora bursts out laughing, and I start to relax a bit. “Well, I guess I have a weakness when it comes to taking care of injured men.”

Rosalie makes a dramatic gagging noise, and I roll my eyes.

“She had to leave early, we swapped numbers. That’s it—everything else is just ancient history,” I say with a smirk.

My mom’s guest list is always a mixed bag, so we couldn’t possibly know everyone. Besides, it’s not like my mom meticulously plans these things—she’s the worst with paperwork. I had to tread carefully with that lie; my sister is basically a human lie detector, ready to don an FBI cap and interrogate us to death. Sometimes she’s too smart for her own good. “Rosie, drop it.”

A little crease forms between her eyebrows, and she leans back, wearing that I’ve got you now expression.

I quickly steer the conversation to her, which is usually an easy task. She loves talking about herself and wastes no time filling us in on her hectic schedule, the grueling training, and her disdain for the snobs she encounters.

That’s until my damn sister starts squeezing Jayce’s bicep. I nearly slam on the brakes. Can’t she behave just once?

“Oh my, you got shredded since the last time we met,” she exclaims, kneading his muscles.

“Haven’t I always been?” Jayce says, meeting my angry gaze in the mirror.

“Not like this. Mm-hm,” she continues, and all of my hair stands on end.

“Stop annoying my best friend,” I say, trying to keep calm.

“But what if I’m genuinely interested in how many more muscles he’s got? Maybe he’s got an eight-pack now and maybe, just maybe, I should go and investigate,” she teases, causing a vein to throb on my temple. She knows exactly how to push my buttons.

Liora turns to Rosalie. “Actually, I’m more curious about how Riley and Jay met. I’ve heard bits and pieces but never the full story.”

I smile at Liora and mouth Thank you at her.

Rosalie whistles. “Ooh, that’s a good one! Jay, care to share with the class?”

Jayce swallows, his eyes darting between Rosalie and me. He frees his arms from my sister’s clutches and says, “It was during summer break in college. I was making some extra cash as a construction worker when I got assigned to build the pool house at the Huntington’s mansion.”

Rosalie fans herself dramatically. “It was the hottest summer on record, and I had to cool down every so often, if you know what I mean.”

“Weren’t you like thirteen?” Liora says, and I’m stunned she remembers how old my sister is. I only mentioned it once.

“I always liked older,” Rosalie says.

Liora looks at me and I roll my eyes. “I told you; she’s a pain in the ass. She always annoys my friends. Jay’s known her the longest and Rosie knows my friends are a no-go, but the minute you tell her ‘no’ she hears ‘yes.’”

I shoot her a warning glare.

My sister just winks at me. “Anyway, that’s when Riley and Jay became friends. They both attended Cornell University, since Jay moved there in his second year.”

I nod, picking up the story. “Jay got a scholarship. He comes from a small town in Suffolk County and had to work his ass off to make it to where he is now. So proud of you, man.”

“It’s nothing,” Jayce says, his cheeks suddenly red. He always plays his achievements down. As if it was pure luck that he got so far.

“It’s not. You’re a genius and you know it. We ended up being drafted together because of how well we played as linemates.”

“And now you’ve got your own house in the Hamptons, Jay?” Liora asks.

“Yes. It was the first thing I bought once I had some money to spare. I think it was always a dream to have a summer house there.”

“It’s just awfully close to my parents,” I grunt.

“It’s the best coast,” Jayce says.

As we pass through the gates and enter my parents’ sprawling mansion, a feeling of unease washes over me. My family’s always been complicated, and I know that the next few days will be a test of my patience again.

Jayce hops out of the car and grabs his bags from the trunk. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he says, heading toward his house across the street.

“He’s not coming to the dinner?” Liora asks.

I scoff. “Hell no. Everyone who can avoid my parents does, and I’d be right there with them if I could.”

My sister heads inside, and I take Liora to the pool house.

It’s a cute little house with an open layout, comfy sofas, a fireplace made of stone, and a loft bedroom that looks out onto the pool. Everything is in cream and white. It’s nice but nothing against the big house.

“I hope you don’t mind staying out here. My parents kind of took over my old room and turned it into a yoga studio the minute I moved out,” I say.

“Are you kidding,” she says.

I watch her take it all in, turning around and looking at every corner of the pool house like I just brought her to a castle. If she’s this amazed by the pool house, I can’t wait to show her the main house. Hell, I want to show her the whole world. If this surprises her, imagine her face when she sees France, Spain, Italy, Austria, Japan—anything beyond this small pool house.

“This is beautiful. But why would anyone need their own yoga studio?” She turns, checking out the cozy kitchen on the side and the stylish bathroom.

Suddenly, she calls my name, snapping me out of my thoughts.

She smiles, the prettiest smile of all smiles. “What are you doing, Ri?”

“Honestly?” I walk over to her and wrap her in my arms. “Just looking at you. You’re what I think is beautiful.”

She blushes, and I lean in to kiss her softly on the mouth.

While I’m in the shower, I overhear her taking another one of those mysterious phone calls. Sometimes she sounds like she’s talking to a kid when she answers. I’ve asked her who it is, but she won’t tell me. I’m starting to get worried. I really hope she’s okay. Every time I ask my therapist what I should do, he tells me to be patient and show her I’m a safe space so she can open up when she’s ready. And that’s what I’m doing, even though it’s hard for me to be patient when I worry for her.