In love with my rx rival: The Ice Alpha

Tamara's POV

"Out of my way!"

I turned just in time to see a coursemate brush past me and Elena on roller skates still yelling as he ran through.

Elena shook her head and adjusted her bag strap.

"Raving mad"

I chuckled and brushed back the strands of hair that were getting into my eyes.

"Whose class do we have this morning?"

Elena asked

"Professor Bondo's"

"On minerals and resources?"

"Mineral resources, specifically granite", I said with a small laugh.

"Elena...

"Let me be Tamara".

I looked at her black wavy hair and the black eyeliner that made her eyes stand out.

She blinked, looking all gothic and in black.

"What are you doing after class?"

I smiled shyly, tucking my hair behind my ears. "I have plans".

******************

I crossed the main quadrangle with my earbuds in, head down, walking in the way I'd learned to move through spaces that weren't really mine. People passed. Nobody looked at me twice. That was the point.

To my left, the hockey rink glowed under floodlights. To my right, Ashford Pack kids sprawled across the steps of the student center, loud and easy, they were in their environment.

I walked between them like a ghost who'd forgotten she wasn't visible or invisible - I don't know, anything could work! English is not my strong suit.

It was safer that way, I told myself. I had been telling myself that for years.

"You're doing it again."

I yanked out an earbud. Paul fell into step beside me, tall and warm, that easy smile already curving his mouth.

"Doing what?"

"Watching everyone like you're not also here."

I snorted. "Profound, Wills."

He bumped my shoulder. "I try."

I chuckled.

We walked together for a minute. It was easy with Paul, it had been since freshman year, when he'd sat next to me in Intro to Geology and asked if I'd done the reading.

Nobody did the reading, I'd said. He'd laughed, and something in my chest had loosened.

I'd warmed up to him instantly and he was a good friend as well as a great quarterback player.

I still looked at him and saw a friend. Warm, steady and familiar. Like furniture you forget you love until someone suggests moving it.

Yeah that feeling.

He was watching me now with an expression I didn't know how to name.

"What?"

"Nothing." He looked away too fast. "You heading to the rink?"

Small errand, I thought. A willing errand I wasn't even comfortable telling my friend about.

I knew how he'd react to it.

"Lucas needs his glove back. Left it in the library."

Paul's jaw shifted. Just slightly. "He could pick it up himself."

"He's at practice."

"He's always at practice."

I didn't answer. I couldn't explain why I wanted to be the one to return it. Why I'd held that glove in my bag all afternoon, fingers brushing the worn leather like it meant something.

Paul stopped at the path fork. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

He hesitated. Then he touched my elbow briefly with a big smile and walked toward the dorms.

I went the other way.

The corridor behind the rink was empty and silent. Exactly the kind of place Lucas had been finding me for months.

Sometimes I thought about the privacy and secrecy and most times I preferred it. Lucas was one of the most popular people on campus. Being with him in public took a lot from the both of us.

And like he always said we were not ready for it. I wasn't ready for it.

I guess he was right.

He was already there, leaning against the wall like he'd been waiting. His hair was damp from the shower. His eyes found mine before I said a word.

"You came."

"You left this." I held out the glove.

He didn't take it. He just looked at me with that private expression nobody else got to see except me, the hot steamy one that made me believe the public distance meant nothing.

"Tamara."

He called my name in this low seductive tone of his that always sent fluid rushing to my thighs.

He stepped forward, hands finding my waist, and the glove slipped from my fingers. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way his thumb traced my hipbone through my jeans.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he said against my ear.

Don't, I thought. Don't believe it.

I don't know why I was suddenly fighting it, I shook my head and melted into him.

I believed it.

He kissed me softly then deeper, until I couldn't remember why I'd ever told myself to be careful. The corridor faded away. The world faded away. There was only Lucas and the way he made me feel chosen.

His hands found their way into my hair, down my face, to my breasts and then have it a gentle squeeze.

A moan escaped my lips.

"Just as you like it", he said against my lips with a chuckle.

"I have to go," I whispered my entire body melting like gooey chocolate.

"Soon."

He kissed me again his fingers crawling under my skirt. I let him.

*********

I walked home feeling warm and like I was floating. The kind of stupid-happy that made me almost laugh at myself.

I cut through the side path behind the athletics building, it was a shorter route, I took it all the time.

That's when I heard his voice.

He was laughing, low and easy. This private version of him I always saw; unguarded, comfortable, real.

I rounded the corner.

I stopped breathing.

Lucas. His hands were tangled in blonde hair. His mouth on someone else's mouth.

Kissing her like this wasn't his first time or even new to him.

I stood there, my legs shaking slightly and my head spinning with both shock and confusion.

She pulled back just enough to smile.

It was Mara Rivers, sharp and beautiful, the girl who smiled at him and waved at every game.

Mara Rivers, the sassy cocky bitch.

He kissed her again like he'd done it a thousand times.

I stood there in the dark, and something inside me cracked clean in two.

This, I realized. This is also private.

I just wasn't supposed to see it.

A sob escaped my lips and they turned immediately, startled.

Tamara's POV

The sob escaped before I could stop it.

Lucas's head snapped up first. His hands were still in Mara's hair, frozen mid-caress. His eyes found mine across the darkness, and I watched something move through his face, something fast and calculating.

Not guilt. It was never guilt.

Mara turned slower than he did. Took her time, like she already knew who was standing there. When she saw me, her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. The kind that said she'd been waiting for this.

She knew, I realized. She always knew.

I turned and walked away as fast as I could. I didn't run, no I refused to run. My legs shook, my chest burned, my eyes pouring out tears but I kept my spine straight and my steps even. The gravel crunched under my sneakers.

Behind me, I heard murmured voices, then footsteps like someone was sprinting after me.

"Tamara."

He called my name using that voice of his, the one that used to make me feel special.

I kept walking.

He caught up before I reached the main path. His hand closed around my wrist gently, which somehow made it worse.

Like he was handling something fragile. Something he'd already decided to break.

"Tamara, stop."

I stopped. Not because he asked me to. Heaven forbid that, I was literally shaking with rage.

It was because I needed to see his face when I asked the question that was already clawing up my throat.

I turned.

He was close enough that I could smell his cologne. The same one he'd been wearing when he kissed me an hour ago. When he'd told me he'd been thinking about me all day.

I've been a fool. I've been a...fool.

"What are we, Lucas?"

My voice came out quiet and steady. I didn't know where that came from, I was expecting the rage and pain.

He let go of my wrist and took a deep breath. I could see him choosing his words the way I'd once chosen my silences, carefully, deliberately, for his own protection.

The pause stretched.

"We were never together," he said. "You know that."

No apology. No flinch. At least even a wince to maybe convince me that he didn't want to say this.

He just said it like it was already decided. Like I'd agreed to terms I never signed.

I stared at him. He stared back at me, his eyes full of nothing, just empty and cold.

I looked away, the tears burning my eyes.

Behind him, the path was empty. Mara hadn't followed. Probably didn't need to. She'd already won whatever game this was.

We were never together.

Four words. He'd spent months pulling me into empty corridors, whispering my name in the dark, making me feel like I was the only person in the world. And now those words were supposed to erase all of it.

I looked at his face, the sharp jaw, dark hair, those grey eyes I'd drowned in more times than I could count. And for the first time, I saw him clearly.

He wasn't confused. He wasn't torn.

He just never intended to choose me.

"Okay," I said simply and I turned away from him.

I left. He called my name once. I didn't stop.

************

The next three days was a blur for me.

I went to class, sat in the front row. I took notes I didn't read. Professor Bondo asked a question about sedimentary layers and I answered without hearing my own voice.

We were never together.

Having lunch was worse. I kept my head down, pushed food around my plate, smiled when Elena sat across from me and demanded to know why I looked like death.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Bullshit."

"I'm fine, Elena."

She stared at me for a long moment. Her sharp dark eyes, that saw too much scanned my face like she was reading a language only she understood.

"You'll tell me when you're ready," she said finally. It wasn't a question. I knew my best friend.

I nodded. She squeezed my hand and let it go.

Paul found me in the library on the second day. He sat down next to me without asking, close enough that our shoulders touched.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He didn't push. But he didn't look away either. Instead he just studied my face with that quiet expression I still couldn't name, the one that made my stomach feel strange and unsettled.

"You're a bad liar, Tamara."

I laughed. It came out hollow. "Since when?"

"Since always. You just never noticed I was paying attention."

Something flickered in his eyes. It looked like hurt. Then he smiled softly and changed the subject to the upcoming game.

I let him, just held it together. Smiled when I was supposed to, answered when someone spoke to me.

While I kept replaying that scene from that night in my head.

**********

Friday arrived quickly before I even knew it.

Elena had plans, some goth night thing off-campus, she'd invited me, I'd said no. Paul was at an away game, his bus already gone by noon. My dorm room felt like four walls pressing in on me.

I couldn't stay there.

I grabbed a bottle from Elena's stash, something dark she'd left under the sink, I didn't even check the label and walked outside.

The courtyard on the Fornon side of campus was empty. Far enough from Ashford that nobody who knew me would walk past and safe enough from Fornon.

I couldn't risk anyone knowing I was from Ashford pack. They had this rivalry thing going on.

The benches were cold, and the sky had that heavy grey feeling like it might snow or might just stay grey forever.

I hoped it would. It'd make a good music video.

Me in the rain with a tear streaked rather mascara face and holding a drink.

I sat down in the dark, unscrewed the cap and took a long drink that burned all the way down.

I'd held it together for three days. I smiled, nodded and survived.

But alone, in the dark, with no one watching?

I let myself fall apart.

The sob came up from somewhere deep, the place I'd been locking since freshman year, since I learned that being invisible meant not being hurt.

It tore out of my chest and I didn't try to stop it.

Tears ran down my face and I sobbed.

My shoulders shook. I pressed my fist against my mouth to muffle the sound, but there was no one around to hear.

Just me. The cold bench and the dark sky.

I didn't hear the footsteps.

I didn't see the figure approaching until a shadow fell across me, blocking the streetlight.

I looked up, bleary-eyed, tears still wet on my cheeks.

A man stood over me. Broad-shouldered and tall. His face was half in shadow, but his eyes which were unreadable held mine like he was just checking every broken piece of me.

"Are you lost?" he asked.

His voice was low and cold. But something underneath it made my breath catch.

It was quite familiar but my muddled brain couldn't bring out anything useful.

I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out.

"You're not Fornon".

Tamara's POV

It wasn't a question. And somehow my dizzy brain couldn't file that as danger, something to be wary of.

I shook my head, my voice sounding rather scratchy. "Ashford."

Something flickered across his face. Annoyance, maybe. Or amusement. Hard to tell with the lighting and the alcohol in my system.

"I don't care," I added, because suddenly I was defensive. "I'm not on anyone's territory. I'm just sitting."

He didn't respond to that. Just stood there, massive and unmoving, his eyes scanning my face like he was reading a report he didn't particularly enjoy.

"You can't stay out here alone," he said finally.

"Watch me."

"You're drunk."

"Observant."

Something that might have been a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was gone before I could be sure.

He didn't ask what was wrong, didn't try to fix it. He didn't offer me a tissue or a hug or any of the things people usually shove at crying girls.

He just said, "Get up."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not carrying you."

I stared at him. He stared back. The silence stretched, and somewhere in the cold and the numbness and the exhaustion, I decided I didn't care anymore.

I got up.

"You should learn to be chivalrous, you know".

"With a drunk woman from the Ashford pack. No".

******

I didn't know why I followed him. I just did.

His room was in the Fornon dorm, it was clean, sparse, smelling like cedar and another sweet smell I couldn't recall.

A bed made with military precision. A desk with nothing on it except a laptop. No posters. No clutter. Nothing that said someone lives here.

Talk about minimalism.

He handed me a bottle of water without asking if I wanted it.

"Drink."

I drank it.

He pointed at the bed. "Sleep there."

"Where are you sleeping?"

"The floor."

No discussion or room for negotiation. He grabbed a blanket from the closet, tossed it on the ground, and lay down with his back to me like I was already forgotten.

Sheesh, did I look that bad?

I stood there for a long moment, swaying slightly, the water bottle warm in my hands.

Then I crawled onto the bed and closed my eyes.

I fell asleep faster than I had been in days.

*************

I woke up from sleep with a gasp like I was drowning.

The room was dark. The air was cold. My head pounded and my mouth tasted like I had a fever.

Lucas.

His name echoed in my skull like a bad song.

I turned over. The floor was empty. He'd moved at some point, shifted to the chair by the window, head tipped back, eyes closed. His chest rose and fell slowly.

He looked different asleep. Softer, less like he wanted to fight someone.

I didn't think.

I was still half-drunk, still drowning, still aching for something that wasn't grief. I slid off the bed, crossed the room on unsteady legs, and climbed into his lap before my brain caught up.

His eyes snapped open, fully awake in an instant.

"Tamara."

He said my name like a warning. I didn't care.

I kissed him.

For a second, he didn't move. Then his hands came up, not pushing me away. Just there, warm on my waist, like he was waiting to see what I would do.

I kissed him harder,slid my fingers into his hair. He smelled like cedar and coffee, it made my stomach flip.

"Tamara," he said again, in this low breathy voice.

"You're drunk."

"I don't care."

"You will."

"I don't care."

He looked at me for a long moment. His jaw was tight. His hands flexed on my hips.

Then he made a sound, low, frustrated and hungry and he kissed me back.

Everything after that was slow and quiet and exactly what I needed. His hands were careful. His mouth was patient. He let me set the pace, this time I was in control.

This time I was choosing him.

I kept my eyes closed. I didn't want to be in my own head. I just wanted to feel something that wasn't the sound of Lucas saying we were never together.

He flipped us over. Laid me down on the floor blanket, his hands against each side of my head as he leaned over me.

His body was warm over mine, his breath hot against my neck, and I arched into him because I needed more.

I needed to forget.

"Please," I whispered, my fingers frantically trying to take off his shirt.

He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark now, pupils blown wide, and something in his expression made my chest ache.

"Say my name," he said quietly.

I opened my mouth.

And at the worst possible moment with my hands on him and my whole body yearning for another man. I said it.

"Lucas."

He went completely still.

The heat drained from the room. His hands, which had been gripping my hips, loosened. His jaw tightened. His eyes went cold.

I felt it like I'd received a huge slap.

"No," I breathed. "I didn't....I'm sorry-"

He pulled back, sat up and ran a hand over his face.

The silence was unbearable.

"I'm sorry," I said again. My voice cracked. "I didn't mean..."

"I know what you meant."

Just as I made to speak, he turned back and grabbed me into his arms.

He kissed me roughly while I moved against him. Fingers were tangling, clothes being taken off, everything was just so fast and hazy.

"It's Garret".

"Garret", I rasped as he teased the entry of my pussy.

"Say it".

"Garret", I gasped, "Please".

He entered into me and a loud moan escaped my lips. He went slowly at first, kissing and squeezing. My toes curled as I approached a painful yet pleasurable spasm of orgasm.

"Faster", I begged and gasped.

He threw a leg over his shoulder. "Are you sure about that?"

My fingers digged into his shoulders.

"Yes, yes".

"What's my name?"

"Garrett"

"I'm going to fuck you senseless that that's the only thing imprinted I'm your mind"

And he did. He quickened his pace until I was pretty sure my eyes rolled in the back of my head.

Just as I reached my peak, he leaned in with a grunt and bit my neck.

My whole world exploded.