“I wasn’t,” I assure her. “My lip split open again because I was laughing at something Conor said.”

Guilt floats through her expression. “I am so sorry. How did he even know you were here?”

“Apparently he was at Boston College earlier, asking random people where I was. I think he and his friends were drunk.”

Demi’s entire body vibrates with anger. “I’m unblocking him so I can yell at him.”

“Don’t. You blocked him for a reason. And it’s fine, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She reaches for my face. I try to swat her hands away, but she’s not having it. “Let me look at it, dammit.” Her fingertips tenderly graze the side of my mouth.

A shiver runs up my spine.

Her bottomless brown eyes lock with mine. “This is it? Just the busted lip?” Her hand sweeps up my face to gingerly examine my cheekbone.

I wince. “He got me there too, but that one’ll just be a small bruise.”

“I can’t believe he did this,” she says again.

“Nah, I get it. He heard about our dalliance with the cops last night and jumped to conclusions.”

Her jaw drops. “How on earth did he find out about that?”

“It’s gotten around,” I admit. “Coach told Brenna, so now the entire team knows about it, and people talk. He lives in Hastings, right? Hell, he could’ve heard someone talking about it at the diner.”

“Maybe.” She curses. “Ugh. You’re bleeding again. Sit down, will you?”

I dutifully lower myself onto the closed toilet lid. If she wants to fuss over me, then I’m going to let her.

She shoves some toilet paper under the sink faucet, then presses the wet wad against my lip to soak up the blood.

“Let’s leave this on here for thirty seconds or so,” she murmurs. “Hopefully the pressure will stop the bleeding for good.”

I try not to smile. “You know I could be doing this myself, right?”

“Just let me do it, Hunter. Please. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She kneels on the floor and damned if that position doesn’t send a flurry of dirty images to my brain. If a woman’s on her knees in front of me, it’s usually because she’s about to undo my pants and take my cock out. My eyes dip to Demi’s pink lips. I imagine the tight suction of them around the head of my cock and suddenly it becomes difficult to swallow.

I jerk my gaze away from her mouth.

“What?” she says urgently. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I croak. Christ. My dick is harder than stone.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re in pain! Is this hurting?” She reduces some of the pressure.

“It’s all good. Don’t worry about it.”

Demi bites her lower lip. Fuck, I need to stop fixating on those gorgeous lips. But I can’t. They’d probably feel so soft and warm pressed against mine.

We should not be alone together right now. I’m still hopped up on adrenaline from the game, from the fight.

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not,” she mutters.

“I’m fine. Trust me, I’ve suffered worse from playing hockey.”

She removes the toilet paper from my lip. It’s soaked red, and she makes a face before tossing it in the wastebasket. “The bleeding stopped,” she says.

“That’s good.”

Her fingertips run over my cheek again.

“Demi,” I say thickly.

“Yeah?”

“Please stop touching me.”

She looks startled. “Why?”

“Because no one’s touched me like that in ages. You realize this is essentially torture?”

She presses her lips together as if resisting a smile. “It’s turning you on?” Her knuckles graze my cheekbone, the one that isn’t bruised. “This? This is turning you on?”

“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. “Therefore—please stop.”

My protest sounds hollow to my own ears, so I’m not surprised when an impish glimmer fills her eyes. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Well, it’s not about what you want, now is it?” In one swift motion, I lock her wrist with my right hand and move it away from my face.

Only, I make the mistake of putting it near my knee, and now her fingertips are centimeters from my thigh. I almost expect her to move her small palm in a caress, but she keeps it still. A slight crease appears in her forehead as her gaze fixates on my mouth.

“Am I bleeding again?” I ask hoarsely.

She slowly shakes her head.

“Then why are you staring at me like that?”

“You got beat up because of me. I feel bad.”

I study her preoccupied expression. “Really, that’s why you’re staring at me?”

Her brown eyes abruptly come into focus. “Well, no. That’s just me feeling bad. I’m staring at you because I want to kiss you.”

I inhale sharply. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I’m not going to, not unless you’re into it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. We’re making out hardcore in my head right now.” She blinks innocently. “It’s amazing, in case you’re wondering.” Her eyes twinkle. “I urge you to reconsider.”

A beautiful girl is begging me to kiss her. How is this even a quandary? But I promised myself I wouldn’t hook up during the season. It might not be the most noteworthy vow any human being has ever taken. I’m sure others have made sacrifices for much nobler causes. But this was important to me. Is important to me.

“Is that a no?” she prompts when I remain quiet.

“It’s a…” I trail off helplessly.

Demi leans toward me. “If you don’t want it, stop me,” she whispers, but I’m powerless to stop her, because I want it as bad as she does.

“Just one taste,” I mumble, and holy fuck, I was right—her lips are soft. They feel like heaven as she gently rubs them against mine in the sweetest of kisses.

The moment our mouths make contact, a hot shiver rolls through me and settles between my legs. My dick is thick, heavy against my thigh. Motherfucker. This kiss is everything.

She moans, and the throaty sound creates tiny vibrations that quicken my pulse. Her tongue tentatively prods the seam of my lips, and like an idiot I part them to let her in. The meeting of our tongues summons desperate noises from both of us. Hers is a whimper of happy surprise, mine is a tormented groan. Demi’s hand curls over my cheek as her tongue teases and explores. She tastes like candy, literally, and I wonder if she was sucking on one of her lollipops earlier. I savor the sweet flavor and thrust my fingers through her dark hair.

I officially forget my surroundings. I register the faint sound of music, but my pounding heart drowns it out. I am so turned on it’s not even funny. The kiss goes on and on, a tangle of tongues and the mingling of heated breaths, not ceasing until the moment I taste copper in my mouth.

“Ugh.” This time I groan unhappily. “Demi, stop.” When she pulls back, I see her lips are tinged with my blood. “I’m bleeding again and now it’s all over you.”