Obsessed With The Hockey Captain

ZOEY'S POV

I laid in front of my laptop with my chest pressed against a pillow, eyes fixed on the screen as I watched a thriller Farrah had recommended. She'd given me a list of movies to get through, and today, with Mom and Dad away, seemed like the perfect time.

Farrah had warned me it was R-rated, but I didn't care. I was twenty, not twelve. A sophomore student in college who could handle an erotic movie.

Halfway through, the sex scenes started. And before long, I felt heat pooling low in my stomach, the urge to touch myself impossible to ignore. It was my first time, and it felt better than I'd expected. I couldn't help the sounds that slipped out as I lost myself in the rhythm, my eyes still half-fixed on the screen.

I threw my head back, hair spilling across my shoulders, completely gone. So gone that I didn't hear the door open. Didn't notice someone slip inside and stand there, watching, until I gasped through my finish and went still.

"Masturbating alone seems boring. Let me help."

I froze and placed the voice immediately. My eyes snapped open and I yanked my hand back, sitting upright and hiding it behind me like that would undo anything.

I glared up at him. "I see you've never heard of knocking. Consent exists. Google it."

He almost smiled. "Didn't mean to interrupt your... session."

Heat crawled up my neck and into my face. My brother's best friend had just caught me touching myself to what was essentially pornography.

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me completely.

"Why are you here, Theoi?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

"I've told you, it's Theo."

I hate his voice. Smooth and unhurried, like nothing in the world rattles him. It makes my blood boil faster than anything else.

"Call yourself whatever you want. Why are you here?" I snapped the laptop shut.

Theo glanced at it for a moment. "I never took you for this kind of girl, Zoey. Pretty scandalous."

I hate everything about Theo Denning. His voice. His calm. The way he takes up space without apologizing for it.

"Answering questions isn't optional." I rolled my eyes. "Just so you know."

"Adam wants you downstairs for dinner. Should I tell him how busy you were?"

"I will actually kill you if you say a word to Adam." I jabbed a finger toward him.

"Threats look good on you." His eyes gleamed as he turned to leave.

I grabbed my laptop and followed.

Adam was already at the dining table, food spread out in front of him. He looked up when we walked in.

"What took so long?"

"I was busy," I said, taking the seat across from him. Theo sat two seats away. Still too close.

"Busy watching a film, apparently," Theo murmured, low enough that only I caught it.

My eyes cut to his. I gritted my teeth and said nothing, which took more restraint than it should have.

"What was that?" Adam glanced between us.

"Talking to myself." Theo flashed him a quick smile and went back to eating.

I cleared my throat. "When are they coming back?"

Adam reached for his wine. "Tomorrow. Maybe next week. Hard to say."

"So they just don't care enough to be here." My grip tightened on my fork.

"They do care, Zoey. Mom calls me three times a week."

Three times a week. They'd never once called me. Not unless something needed handling.

"They've never called me. Not once, Adam."

Silence settled over the table like something heavy.

"Not even one time. Like I don't exist to them."

My eyes stung. My throat closed around whatever else I wanted to say.

"Give them time," Adam said quietly, turning back to his plate. "They'll come around."

I wanted to ask when, but I swallowed the question instead. Not now, and definitely not in front of Theo.

"Don't tell me you're about to cry."

I looked up, and as I expected, Theo was watching me. There was a look in his eyes, but it wasn't the mockery that I had expected. It was almost like he was trying to pull me back from the edge of tears.

It worked, somehow. The tightness in my chest loosened just enough for me to snap at him. "Fuck off, Theo."

"Hey, hey, hey! No more cursing," he said, mouth tilting. "You're supposed to be innocent, remember?"