SIN-BIN: An Enemies To Lovers College Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
SIN-BIN: Chapter 25

AVA

What the hell is wrong with me? What was I thinking? Letting him finger me—again—and where? In the fucking library. I totally lost my mind allowing Colton to do whatever he wants with my pussy. And he wants fucking everything.

“Ava?” I turn my head, meeting Grace’s gaze. She smiles at me, arching her brow quizzically. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing. School stuff.”

Liar. Thompson sent me a message a few minutes ago, and since then that’s all that’s been on my mind. I want to replace a way to snap out of it. Desperately. Hopefully going to the movies with him will help. I need to replace reasons to keep my distance, and if I get to know him better, that might just happen.

“Really?” Layla chimes in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What are your plans tonight?”

“Staying in, doing nothing,” I lie.

My best friend smirks but doesn’t push for more. She shifts her attention to her roommate. “What about you?”

“Kaleb and I are going on a date. He wants to go to the movies, but I’m not really up for it.” Movies? I don’t want anyone to see me with Colton. It’s absolutely out of the question.

“What does he want to see?” I ask innocently, feigning interest. The second she says the movie title, I start sweating. Fuck. That’s the exact same movie we’re going to see.

“He said he wants to have dinner together, and then go to the movies since it isn’t playing until later…but I don’t know.”

“It’s supposed to be an awesome movie,” Layla comments, biting her banana and continuing with her mouth full. “Have you seen the cast?”

“We have seen Layla Benson being a hamster.” I frown, narrowing my eyes. She snorts and pokes her tongue out at me. I avert my gaze and focus on Grace. “The cast is great, but I’m not sure about the story. It might be something like Star Wars, and I’m not a fan.”

Please say no.

“Really? That’s the most iconic series ever.” Grace beams. “You actually made it a hundred times easier, Ava. We’re definitely going to the movies.”

“Yay.” I laugh it off, trying to figure out what I can wear so she won’t recognize me. But the more important question, the one I should be asking: what is he going to wear so no one recognizes him? Colton Thompson is pretty well-known, and him showing up with any girl at the movies will cause a scene.

“Mason, as two hot and single bitches, why don’t we go somewhere together?” Layla playfully cocks her eyebrow at me.

“Actually.” I grab my things and dump them into my backpack. “I have a date.”

“What?” Layla stares at me wide-eyed, shock etched on her face.

“With who?” Grace’s expression mirrors Layla’s, but she raises her voice, literally screaming like a banshee.

I roll my eyes. “You’re so gullible.” I stand up from the chair and look at them. “I’ve got an advance reader copy of a book I’ve been dying to read, so tonight I have a date with my new book boyfriend,” I lie nonchalantly, doing my best to keep my smile at bay.

“When I die from boredom, I’ll come back as a fucking ghost and haunt your lazy ass, Mason. Mark my words.” Layla points her finger at me, then stands up as well and stretches. “Maybe this is a sign I should call Trey?”

“No.” Grace and I exclaim at the same time. Then we timidly smile at each other. We aren’t friends, and we’re not really close, but we both want what is best for Layla.

“Why not?” my best friend whines, gaping at us in confusion, her big eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

“Because you don’t like him, and he has a girlfriend, duh.” I take my leather jacket from the back of the chair and put it on.

“And the last time you saw him, before your breakup, you spent an hour arguing instead of watching a movie together.” Grace zips her jacket and takes her books from the table, pressing them to her chest. “You never promised him anything. You weren’t official, but he acted like an ass. A jealous ass.”

“You two are no fun.” Layla takes her backpack from the floor. I get to go home because I’m done with class, but she’s not. She still has two classes left. “Next party, I’ll officially be on the lookout for someone else.”

Hopefully it will be Clay. I’ll try to help them get together because I think they would be perfect for each other. If I need to, I’ll talk to Drake—even though that might be awkward as hell. All my interactions with him recently have ended with him falling quiet. It’s like I pluck the electricity out of him and he doesn’t have the energy to continue the conversation. Or sometimes he wants to talk, but it’s me who isn’t interested. Or I’m busy. I don’t like it, and I want to fix it. He’s my childhood friend. All this tension isn’t healthy.

“We will be on the lookout,” I correct her, wheeling around and heading to the hallway. “I’m just as single as you are.”

Layla lines up with me, sneaks a discreet glance at Grace, and then leans into my ear. “Single? Or smitten with Thompson?”

The corners of my mouth tremble; a tiny smile haunts my lips. I shake my head and say nothing as Grace joins us.

“Bye, Ava.” She waves at me, then steps closer to Layla and plants a kiss on her cheek. “See you later.”

“Bye,” I say, watching her turn around and leave Layla and me alone.

“You’re going to see Thompson, aren’t you?” Layla says, a smug smile on her face. I heave a sigh, twirl around, and make my way to the exit. I’m not talking about it. “You’re fucking boring.”

“Love you too, bestie.” I wave my hand without looking back at her. I do have plans to read, but also? I need to prepare for my date with Thompson.

It’s not a date. It’s not a date. It’s not a date.

I keep repeating this to myself in hopes that I’ll believe it, but so far it’s not working. I suggested this outing myself because I want to know more about him. I need to replace reasons not to like him. To keep him away from me. I don’t like to be in debt, and I owe him an orgasm—two actually, but we’ll see how it goes. We’re not fucking in the movie theater, flashes in my head, and I chuckle. It definitely sounds like a challenge.

I notice him from afar, and my eyes roam over his form. Relief washes over me instantly, because he is wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a hoodie paired with white sneakers. Sporty and comfy, as if he doesn’t care what he looks like. I quickly scan the cars parked near the building and notice his Lexus RX.

“Hey.” I walk up to him and stop.

Thompson rakes his gaze over my face and down my body. I watch him intently, wanting nothing more but to see his reaction, and he doesn’t disappoint. His pupils widen, making his eye color close to black. I always know what I’m doing when it comes to my clothes, and today is no exception. I am wearing a red dress, black tights, and a black leather jacket with black boots. My hair is collected into a high ponytail, and I let a few locks frame my face on purpose. No lipstick, just lip balm and mascara on my eyelashes.

“Hey, Ava.” He smirks. “When you said you would be late, I didn’t think we were going to miss the first ten minutes of the movie.”

“Grace should be here with her boyfriend. I didn’t want them to see me with you.” I expect him to smile back at me, but he doesn’t. He hides his hands in his pockets, at once becoming broody. What’s wrong with him?

“Well, let’s go then.” His voice is dull, and shivers like tiny ants spread across my skin. We saunter inside, and he lets me in first as we proceed to the concession stand.

The girl who works here smiles at us politely. “Can I get something for you?”

“An ice cream,” I mumble, standing on my tiptoes to get a better look. “With M&Ms.”

Colton’s lip twitches, as if he’s trying to fight the urge to smile. Then he averts his gaze and buys two ice creams with M&Ms. We wait in silence, and nervousness replaces its way under my skin. Nothing is how I imagined it. How am I supposed to get to know him if he keeps silent and avoids looking at me?

Fuck it. I can take matters into my own hands. “Do you always order ice cream at the movies?”

“Most of the time,” he answers, taking the ice creams from the girl and handing one to me. “Not that I’m a frequent moviegoer. I prefer the comfort of my place.”

Me too. Damn him. “I kinda noticed that.” Our gazes lock as we walk to the theater. “A Netflix lover, and a secret admirer of Disney.”

Thompson laughs curtly, shaking his head. “I have to be in the mood for Disney. It doesn’t happen often, and only under very specific circumstances. While Netflix? Never regretted buying a subscription.”

As I grab the door handle, a question lingers on my tongue. “What is your favorite TV show recently?”

“Why does this sound like an interrogation?”

“Since we’re here, why not get to know each other?” His gaze slides to my mouth, and my heartbeat accelerates. The ice cream in my hand is the only thing that stops my skin from heating up. “So?”

He taps on my nose and leans away. “You.”

Me? I blink, and he opens the door to the theater. It takes one second for me to realize he meant one of my most favorite TV shows ever. Houston, I think we have a problem. Instead of replaceing reasons not to like him, I replace things that draw me to him. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

Suddenly, he grabs my hand and drags me inside. I spaced out.

“Sorry,” I whisper as he edges to the back row. We sit down, and I finally sweep my gaze over the place. There are barely twenty people here, and we’re pretty far from all of them. It’s like he chose these seats on purpose, to have me all to himself.

“For someone who didn’t want to be seen in my company, you sure put us on full display,” he comments quietly once we settle into our seats.

“Didn’t expect You to be your favorite TV show,” I sass back, taking a spoonful of my ice cream. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, I’m not a serial killer.” He shoves a spoonful into his mouth. “What’s your favorite TV show?”

Should I tell him the truth? Is it even a question? “Actually…” I trail off, and he turns his head to look at me.

“You?”

I nod, and he chortles, hanging his head low. When he finally calms down and looks at me, a playful smile sprinkles over his lips. “Should I be worried?”

“Who knows?” I smirk. “I can easily quote Joe if you want.”

“You’re that kind of a fan? Knowing the quotes by heart?” He glances at me. “A bit geeky.”

“I’m a nerd. I love reading books, annotating them, and saving my favorite moments in highlights. So I quote things I remember from a TV show? It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, Clay told me about the books you read.” He doesn’t sound judgmental, but he does sound mischievous. “What was the one he saw about? He mentioned sex between stepsiblings.”

“Maybe one day I will read you that moment. Aloud.” I wink at him, and he cracks another smile. Taking a spoonful of his ice cream, he focuses his attention on the screen, and I do the same. We always have time to talk later.

The movie has been playing for a little while, but it’s been hard to focus. I didn’t lie to Grace when I said I never liked Star Wars, so I can’t get into this movie either. Even if the actors are fucking perfect together, it doesn’t save me from boredom. I tried to sit upright, then leaned forward, then put my feet on the row in front of me. Nothing has helped, and I’m incredibly annoyed. Unlike Thompson. He’s totally immersed in the movie, and he’s ignoring everything I do. Or so I think.

His palm on my knee stops my leg from swinging back and forth. I look at him, knitting my eyebrows together. “You don’t like the movie?” he asks.

I shake my head no. “Usually I leave and wait for my friends outside, but I’m still here.”

“You should have told me.” His voice is quiet and soft. “We could have left, gone for a walk, or done anything but be here.”

“It’s okay.” I lick my lips, and his gaze drops to my mouth. “You seemed into it.”

Colton shifts in his seat and faces me. He gently cups my cheek, and I part my lips, holding his gaze. My skin is tingling; the pounding of my heart quickens. I inch forward and gently press my lips to his, closing my eyes the second his hot breath envelops me. Our kiss is slow, but for some reason, it takes all my emotions to the next level. I nibble on his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth for me, letting me slip my tongue inside. I shuffle in my seat and press my palm to his chest. Even through his hoodie I can feel his rapid heartbeat. The simple realization of how much my presence affects him overwhelms me. The guy who’s had countless hookups wants me, as if I’m the only girl in the world. As if I’m the only one he has eyes for.

The moment I allow myself to think like this, my mind goes overboard. I barely know him. I’m making assumptions. Colton Thompson doesn’t date anyone. He doesn’t even sleep with anyone more than once. I’m just another hookup, a girl who owes him two orgasms, nothing else. I already made this mistake once, letting myself believe that a guy can change for a girl. They never do. Not when they are still young, anyway. It’s all in my fucking head, and I should remember that.

I glide my palm down his chest and to his groin. His dick is hard, and I feel him through his sweatpants. Colton groans into our kiss, and I take it as a sign of approval. I run my fingers up and down, and his hand reaches to my ponytail, tugging on it and making me hiss. His other hand lands on my chest, caressing my boobs. This roughness combined with gentleness is new to me, but I replace myself really liking it.

Breaking our kiss, I move my lips down his chin and lower, to his throat. His cologne is woodsy and has notes of ginger. My skin warms up from our closeness, and I suck on his neck, leaving a hickey. His cock becomes thicker under my touch, and my clit pulses. I’m so turned on, I don’t even care where we are anymore.

As soon as I press harder on his dick, Colton freezes. He grabs the back of my neck and forces me to look him in the eyes. I gaze at him intently through blurry vision. “I told you, Ava. We aren’t going to have sex in the movies.”

“And I told you that sounded like a challenge.” Why is he so stubborn? He wants it just as much as I want it, so why restrain ourselves? “Let me make you feel good.”

“Kissing you feels good,” Colt hums huskily, and my breath hitches in my throat.

His gaze is heavy, as if he’s looking into my soul. He sees right through me, and it shouldn’t be like that. I don’t want a committed relationship. Being fuck buddies suits me damn well, and I don’t have plans to change my mind. At least not in my freshman year. And not for someone who won’t be around after the school year is over.

“Please, let me make you feel good,” I whisper, my words scattering over his lips as our eyes lock. I don’t do anything, just wait for his decision. I won’t take it further if he doesn’t want it. “Please, Colton…”

He watches me in silence, his brows knitted together, and then he just shakes his head no. My skin flames up, and I fidget in my seat. His rejection stings, and I scrunch my nose, trying to do anything to keep myself from crying. I take my hands off his lap, turn away from him, and stare straight ahead, not seeing anything. I have no idea what he wants from me, because what I’ve heard about him contradicts how he is with me.

“Do you want to stay?” he asks me, and I lift a shoulder in a shrug. I don’t care.

“Do you?”

“Not really,” he mumbles, standing up. “Let’s go.”

We silently head to the exit, and an unsettling feeling forms in my chest. He is keeping his distance. His hands are hidden in his pockets. He was incredibly affectionate when we walked into the movie theater, and now his posture radiates coldness. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. This is not a date. He’s not my boyfriend, or even my friend. If he wants to part ways, he’s free to do just that.

Sashaying out of the movies, I reach up and take down my ponytail. My hair cascades over my shoulders, and I tuck a few strands behind my ears. I keep my head high, watching Thompson with my eyes narrowed.

“Where are we going?” I ask, bracing myself for his answer. Somehow, I’m certain I already know.

“I’ll give you a ride to your dorm.” He brushes past me and edges to his car. I stay still, frowning more and more with each breath I take. Fucker. Predictable fucker. Nothing else.

“You know, Thompson, I’ll walk.” With that, I whirl around and stomp away from the movies, making a mental note that he’s not doing anything to stop me.