Saving the Beast, page 10
She’s moving in today, and I can’t stop fucking thinking about it. I still can’t believe I offered my home to her, but as much as she felt like she didn’t have a choice, I felt the same. I need her to help me with English, but now, I might as well have her help me with any and every class I might have issues with going forward. I mean, Lord knows I’m paying her enough for help in more than one class. As long as she’s willing, of course.
It’s only for a few months. As long as this semester ends with her still enrolled at HEAU and making sure I don’t fail any of my classes, I‘ll be content.
My chest tightens, and my lungs burn. I can’t help but acknowledge that I might want more from her. But I have to concentrate on what I’ve been working toward my whole life—to secure my future and get my spot in the pro league. That’s what has to be my top priority. I can’t have gone this far, only to lose focus now.
I can’t let any funny business happen during her stay, not with me and sure as shit not with anyone else. Neither she nor I can afford any distractions, including anyone trying to distract her from me.
Malik sprays me with his skates, and ice tears me from my stupor, and I lock on to my target.
“Really?” I scoff, pinching my eyebrows.
Shrugging, he winks. “What? You weren’t paying attention anyway. I’m surprised you noticed.”
“You’re such a fucker.” I chuckle.
Malik huffs and grabs his bottle, spraying water into his mouth and then on his face to cool off. “Finally, we get a break. Is Coach trying to kill us today or what? I’m tired as shit right now.”
Holding his stare, I say with a deadpan voice, “Maybe it’s because you were up all night, sending me shit on socials until I had to turn my sound off because my phone was dinging every five seconds.”
He scoffs and throws his hand up. “Look, it’s not my fault you don’t appreciate all the time I dedicate to sending you funny shit.”
“Riiight. Sure, bud.” I laugh.
“Fuck you.” Malik grins and skates back to center ice, where Coach is waiting to start the next drill.
Taking a few gulps of water, I toss my bottle back on the bench and skate out to join the huddle.
Skating up behind Malik, I smack his ass with my stick, and he fake moans loud as hell.
“Don’t stop now,” Malik says in a super-high-pitched voice.
Rearing my stick back, I prepare to hit him five times harder than before and swing through, smacking him on the left side of his ass.
“Ahh!” Malik moans, and our team bursts out in laughter. “Speaking of moaning, have you heard what your tutor sounds like yet? Because I bet she makes the sweetest soun—”
Jabbing my stick into his ribs hard enough to hurt him but not do any real damage, I cut his sentence off and skate right in front of him, putting my face in his.
He’s wincing as I hold his stare and growl, “Don’t.” He smirks, and I make sure he knows how serious I am. “Don’t talk about her. Don’t make a move on her. Don’t mess with her. Don’t think about her. Nothing. Got it?”
“Anything else, Dad?” he asks sarcastically.
Lifting my arms, I place my hands on his chest and shove him. Hard. “Malik, I’m dead fucking serious. In fact …”
Skating to the front of the group, I announce, “Excuse me, I need to make something clear.”
The team faces me and goes silent.
“Blair Adams, my new tutor, is off-limits to everyone! She is not to be pursued romantically. She is not to be messed with in any capacity. Am I clear?”
“You got it, man,” Asher calls out first, followed by everyone else’s agreement, everyone except Malik.
“Don’t make me beat compliance out of you, Mal,” I warn jokingly … well, mostly jokingly.
He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, yes, I’ll leave your little bookworm alone.”
“All right, set up for breakaways. One-on-two,” Coach announces, drifting the focus back to practice. “Griffin and Dean on defense.”
Dean and I set up on defense while half of the group splits to the other zone, and lines form at the center line. The first person in our line, Asher, skates forward. Coach tosses a puck onto the ice, and Asher grabs it with his stick and starts racing toward us.
Skating backward, I watch him like a hawk, looking for the slightest shift in his body to tell me where he’s going. He drifts left toward Dean. Of course, he wants to make his brother look bad if possible. With stunning finesse and quick wrist movements, he passes the puck through Dean’s legs and catches it on his stick again, skating past Dean with a gigantic smile on his face. But he’s not in the clear yet.
Digging into the ice, I skate in front of Asher and see a weak spot in his plan. As he skates to the side and pulls back slightly, I charge him and poke the puck out of the way.
“Dammit!” Asher shouts, and I shrug like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Ha-ha!” Dean laughs at Asher as he skates up next to me.
Asher grimaces at him.
“I went by you like nothing. Maybe lose some of that confidence,” Asher chirps at Dean.
“No, thanks.” Dean grins.
The three active players rotate. I skate to the back of the long line, Dean takes my spot, Asher takes Dean’s spot, and a new player takes Asher’s.
Malik is a few people in front of me. I tap him with my stick, and he turns around and sighs dramatically.
“What do you want?”
“You’re helping me tonight with moving Blair in. You owe me,” I tell him, not taking no for an answer.
“Ugh, fine!” he huffs.
“Thanks.” I chuckle.
“No problem, buddy.” He smiles and skates forward as the drill shifts players again.
Mrs. Potts is getting her room ready right now, and I’m picking her up after practice. I wonder if she’ll like my home. Will she be comfortable? Maybe even happy?
I can’t stop running what-ifs through my mind the rest of the time on the ice, and it doesn’t stop until I’m pulling up to her house.
My heart feels like it’s running a marathon, and my palms are sweating. I hate feeling nervous. It feels a lot like vulnerability, a sense of lacking control.
“Be on good behavior, Mal,” I warn him as I back up into the driveway of house 1091.
“Psh. I’m a fucking angel, thank you very much,” he says defensively, and I can’t help but wonder if he has ever taken a single thing in his life seriously.
A flash of blue catches the corner of my eye, and I turn, my mouth drying at the sight of Blair in a light-blue sweater and leggings. She hasn’t looked over yet, which seems intentional from the curled lips as she stares aggressively away from us. Her profile is stunning. From her plump and often-pouting lips to the smooth curve of her nose, she’s—
Get yourself together.
Forcing myself out of my truck, I open the door and walk over to her. “I brought Malik to help carry anything you need.”
She still won’t meet my eye as she coolly says, “Thank you. But there’s no need. I just have this suitcase.”
She rolls it over to me, and I push it to Malik, who then rolls it gently and loads it into my truck while I debate on what the hell to say next. I’ve never been one who had to force conversation with a girl, nor have I wanted to. But something about Blair being mad at me makes my gut twist and my heart ache.
Pinching myself, I try to calm my racing heart. I don’t know when or how she got this far under my skin, but she burrowed herself in. I know her cold-shoulder is out of anger at our deal, so I let her take the lead.
“I’ll be right back,” she announces and retreats back inside.
“Okay.” The word is a whisper on my breath as I fight the urge to follow her.
Running my hand down my face, I sigh loudly. Maybe I should just check to ensure she doesn’t need help with anything else. I know she said that her suitcase was the only thing, but just in case, I should probably go in there.
My emotions have always been the one part of myself that I’ve struggled to control. No matter what I’m feeling, my emotion pulls the strings of my actions like a puppeteer. Right now, all I feel is confusion because I shouldn’t care that she’s upset with me, but I do.
As I step toward her house, the front door swings open, and she walks through with a backpack on her shoulders and a grocery bag full of envelopes, which I’m assuming are bills, in her hand. Instead of her turning every bill over to me to pay, I set up a checking account that she can use to pay whatever she needs. It might seem excessive, but honestly, it’s just laziness. I don’t want to have to send her money or pay every bill she gives me. I’ll just transfer a lump sum after she gives me an initial estimate, and then she can take it from there.
“Is your dad home?” I ask, wondering why that’s any of my business.
She looks at me for the first time with teary eyes, and I feel my heart contract with pain. “Why? Do you want to meet him and ask for his blessing before you kidnap his daughter?”
Malik laughs audibly and immediately clears his throat like he’s trying to cover it up.
“What? I am not kidnapping you! You literally agreed to move in.” My words fly out of my mouth hastily because I cannot believe she just referred to her moving in as kidnapping.
“It doesn’t matter. No, he’s not home.” Her gaze drops to my chest, and she clenches her jaw. “But I’m ready. Can we go? I want to get unpacked. I have a lot of homework to do.”
Running my hand through my hair, I nod. “Yeah, of course.”
Pulling open the passenger front door, I hold it for her, but she ignores me and opens the back door, hopping inside. Stifling a laugh, I bite down on my bottom lip as Malik pretends it was for him all along.
“Thanks, babe.” He makes a kissing sound, and I slam the door shut the second he’s in.
Fucking hell, maybe this was a really terrible idea. I probably could have found another tutor to help me, but I don’t think I want one that isn’t Blair. For her intelligence, of course, and no other reason—like me dying to know what she tastes like, what her body feels like pressed against mine, and what beautiful fucking sounds she could make from my touch. Nope, definitely not that.
The ride to my place would be quiet and tense if it wasn’t for Malik giving us a concert the entire drive. Sometimes, I wonder how he has the seemingly unlimited energy of a toddler. But I also know that he’s only like that with certain people. He’s the type of person who only lets people see his true self if he’s really comfortable with you. To most of the world, he comes across as an arrogant asshole, which he is, but there’s more to him than his scowl.
Asher and Dean should already be parked in my driveway when we arrive. They’re picking Malik up and giving him a ride back to his car so I can stay here and help Blair settle in.
When I park, Malik jumps out and frolics over to the guys. I can’t help but notice that Blair hasn’t opened her door yet.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, wiping my hands on my sweats.
She scoffs, “Griffin, why are we doing this? There must be a thousand other solutions.”
Her genuine question catches me off guard. My lips part, and I lick my bottom lip as I look in my rearview mirror and find her staring out of the window, her face pinched with frustration.
“Name one,” I challenge because I can’t think of one possible alternative that would give each of us a better outcome.
The silence stretches between us, and she sighs. “I can’t.”
It’s the truth. No job could possibly offer her the amount of money I will end up paying her, and I could never find a tutor who is serious enough about helping me that they’d move into my house with me. There really is no better scenario.
Trying to ease the situation, I attempt to level the playing field of suffering. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal for you. To be honest, it’s not for me either. I’m very protective about who comes into my house, and like you said, we don’t know each other, not really. Mrs. Potts and Chip are my family, and I invited you to live not only with me, but with them. If I had another choice that would benefit me as much as this will, I would take it.”
I hear her suck in a breath, but she stays quiet.
“They’re leaving. They were just here to pick Malik up. The front door of the house will be unlocked if you want to wait in here until they leave,” I tell her as I open my door and get out.
Opening the driver’s-side back door, I grab my backpack,, and walk over to where the guys are talking outside the twins’ car.
“How’s the girlfriend?” Asher teases, and all it takes is one serious glance from me for his lips to seal shut.
A pulse of anger shocks my system like a strike of lightning. Blair is clearly going through enough without them picking on her to her face or behind her back.
Meeting Asher’s challenging stare, I bite out, “For one, she’s not my girlfriend, and you know that. Secondly, keep any talk of her out of your mouth. I like you, Ash, but don’t think you’re safe from me because we’re on the same team. I meant it—she’s off-limits to any and all bullshit.”
“Okay, okay.” He holds his hands up in defeat. “My bad. I’ll chill out.”
“Good. Glad to hear it,” I acknowledge his agreement, but do nothing more to continue this conversation. “You guys get out of here. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”
“All right,” Dean says and opens the driver’s door. “See you tomorrow, man.”
“Try not to dream of me tonight.” Malik blows me a kiss and slides into the back seat, laughing.
Someday, I really need to put that little fuck in his place, but he’s just so damn funny that I can’t help but laugh along with him.
They drive away, and I decide to give Blair a moment alone before coming inside. I walk up the stairs, and unlock my front door. She’ll come inside eventually.
I set her bag by the door. My stomach grumbles as I inhale something that smells amazing, and I head into the kitchen to see what Mrs. Potts is cooking up.
Her wide eyes find me the second I enter the room, and she whispers, “Is she here?”
“Yeah, she’s still in my truck.” I chuckle. “She’ll probably be in soon.”
Mrs. Potts is whisking something in a bowl as she asks, “What is she doing?”
I pull one of the barstools out from the island and sit down on it, leaning my arms against the counter. “I have no clue.”
She is just as confused as I am but leaves it be. “Are you hungry? I’m making bacon cheeseburgers with Parmesan fries and garlic aioli.”
My mouth waters instantly, and I think I could eat a thousand burgers right now; I’m so hungry. “Yes, I’m starving.”
“Good. Because there will be plenty!” she cheers, and my heart warms that she is making me a plate, no matter what my answer might have been.
I hear the click of the front door shutting and excuse myself. “I’ll be back.”
She chortles, and I wish I knew what she was thinking. She’s probably asking herself the same thing I was earlier—what the hell am I doing?
“Hello?” Blair’s soft and sultry voice carries through the entryway.
Turning the corner, I walk toward the front door and answer, “Right here.”
She stands in the center of the open space with reddened eyes, and I resist the urge to swipe any remaining tears from her face as I wander closer to her.
She offers a soft smile that doesn’t show any true happiness. “Where should I …”
“Yeah, I’ll show you,” I respond to her unfinished question because I assume she’s asking where her room is.
“Cool. Thanks.” She grabs the handle on her suitcase and drags it behind her.
“You’ll be in the east wing with me. Mrs. Potts and Chip live downstairs, and I don’t want to intrude on any of their space, so I had her prepare one of the rooms upstairs,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t freak out that her room will be closer to mine.
Although I didn’t exactly want to give up any of the rooms in my wing of the house, I really didn’t want to do it to Mrs. Potts and Chip. Besides, now I don’t have to trek through the house when I have a question on any homework.
“O-okay,” she murmurs and follows me as I head to the split staircase.
Spinning around, I look down at her and hold my hand out. “I’ll take that for you.”
Without giving her much of an option, I grab the suitcase from her before she can protest and continue to lead the way up the staircase.
She doesn’t fight me on it, so I take that as a win.
When we reach the landing, where we’ll either veer left into the east wing or right into the west wing, I decide now is the best time to tell her the one rule I have.
“One quick thing.” I stop.
She steps beside me and looks up at me. “Yeah?”
“You can go anywhere in this house; explore at your whim. But the west wing is off-limits. No exceptions. Okay?” I ask her, my jaw clenching from discussing the west wing at all.
“Okay, but wh—”
I cut her off, “It’s not anything bad. It’s just full of really valuable family stuff, and I don’t want anything to get broken.”
She squints. “I’m not going to break anything.”
Rubbing my face, I grit out, “I know. But it’s still off-limits, okay? This isn’t fucking debatable!” Fuck. I didn’t mean to snap at her. “I’m sorry for yelling. Everything in there is just very important to my family and me, and we can’t risk anything happening to it.”
“Yeah, fine. I won’t go in there.” Her face is cold, like a sheet of armor has slid into place, and I hate that it’s there because of me.
“Thank you. Your room is right down here.” I step forward and lead her through the double-door entrance into the east wing.
My bedroom is the third door on the right, and hers is directly across from it.
“This is it.” I open the door for her and step inside.
