Christmas with My Hockey Alphas

CHAPTER 3 The Bad Boy

　　Ivy

　　The next day brought more snow, and by the time my shift ended, it had turned to sleet. My boots crunch over black ice as I cut across the quad. My apron is stuffed in my bag, and I can breathe easier knowing that I don't have to work tomorrow. Strings of Christmas lights flicker over the administration building, but the rest of the campus is quiet. Students have begun to leave on their holiday vacations as they wrap up their final exams.

　　My phone battery had died hours ago. Typical. It never holds a charge for more than half a day. It is tucked into my coat pocket and slaps against my leg as I move across the campus. I keep my hood pulled low, trying to ignore the way the shadows between the spruces move as if they are following me.

　　A whistle cuts through the night. "Hey, coffee girl."

　　Against my better judgment, I turn. Coffee girl is one of my kinder nicknames, but I would actually prefer it if people would learn my real name.

　　A motorcycle idles at the edge of the parking lot, its headlight shining through the falling snow. A tall figure is straddling the seat, one boot braced on the pavement, and a black helmet under his arm. His leather jacket and chain at his belt make him look more dangerous than he probably is.

　　"Need a ride?" He calls out.

　　I point in the center of my chest, and glance over my shoulder at the empty quad. "Me?"

　　"Do you see anyone else?"

　　"I'm fine," I say automatically, clutching my bag closer to my chest. Even though there is nothing in it of value, I still don't want to lose it.

　　The guy smiles, and I notice that he is all sharp edges and dimples. "You're walking home alone, at midnight, in this weather. Are you sure you're fine?"

　　"I don't take rides from strangers," I squeak.

　　"Good policy." He flicks the kickstand up and rolls the bike closer. "I'm Jaxon. Now we aren't strangers anymore."

　　I almost laugh at his audacity. "Jaxon who?" I ask even though I know exactly who he is. He is the second of the Kings of Northvale. His reputation for being a bad boy precedes him, and there is no way I am getting on that bike. Rumor has it that's how he gets most women to sleep with him. Joke's on him. I am not most women.

　　"Just Jaxon." His eyes catch the glow from the streetlamp, and I find myself leaning in to examine their color. Not brown, not hazel, but a stunning shade of green that reminds me of evergreens. "Hop on. I promise not to bite." His grin widens. "Unless you ask me to. Then I promise not to bite too hard."

　　"I don't think a motorcycle is any safer than walking in this weather," I reply before turning away from him. "I can walk."

　　The sleet cuts through the air like tiny, sharp knives. My gloves and secondhand coat do little to save me from the cold air, and my dorm is a twenty-minute walk away.

　　Something moves in the trees. Not the normal rustle of the campus squirrels I have grown accustomed to hearing, but something that sounds like a growl.

　　I turn toward it, but nothing is there.

　　When I face Jaxon again, his smile has faded. "Get on the bike."

　　I step back. His voice is no longer teasing. This is an order. His voice vibrates a frequency that I feel more than hear. His eyes are glaring into the trees behind me.

　　"I…"

　　"Now!" His pupils have blown wide, swallowing the color of his irises.

　　Before I can think, he's extended a gloved hand. I inch toward it, but I don't take it. He shakes his hand impatiently, not taking his eyes off the trees. Reaching forward, I take his hand, and the warmth of his skin bleeds through my thin gloves.

　　He pulls me onto the seat behind him in one smooth motion and puts his helmet over my head. He swipes my hair behind my shoulders and smiles. "Hold on tight."

　　The bike roars to life, and the world blurs. The inside of his helmet smells like leather and cedar, and the combination makes my mouth water. I squeeze my eyes closed, and my hands clutch his jacket, finding hard muscle beneath.

　　The sleet and wind cut through my jacket, and I curl myself closer to Jaxon, desperate to soak up some of his heat. He doesn't seem to mind when I wrap my arms around his waist and dig my fingers into what I can only assume are rock-hard abs.

　　He takes a sharp turn off the main campus, and then another, until my dorm comes into view, a lighthouse. I squeal as I fail to keep myself seated behind him, and have to hold onto him tighter. I have never been so happy to see the building in my life.

　　Jaxon brakes and skids neatly to the curb. He taps my hands gently and chuckles. "You are safe now."

　　My fingers tremble as I uncurl them from his jacket. He helps me take off the helmet and tucks my stray hands behind my ears. Swinging my leg over the seat, I shake with adrenaline.

　　"How did you know where I live?"

　　He studies me for a moment, and his jaw ticks. "Next time you walk alone at night, think twice. There are things out here you don't want to meet."

　　I step back from the motorcycle. "Like you?" I try to joke, but my voice comes out thin.

　　His grin flashes again, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Exactly like me."

　　He revs the engine. "See you around, coffee girl."

　　Then he is gone. Nothing but a tail light vanishing into the sleet, leaving only the echo of the rumble of his bike through the trees. I stand on the curb, my heart hammering painfully in my chest. My fingers still tingle where he grabbed my hand. Next time, I will have to wear the gloves Cole gave me.

　　Somewhere behind me, deep in the trees behind the dorm, something howls, soft and low. Like a warning.