The Best Kind of Forever (Riverside Reapers Book 1)

AERIS

I raced over to the house as soon as I could. My hands didn’t stop shaking during the entire drive over. I’m barely keeping myself together after that melee broke out during the game. That didn’t seem like your average, run-of-the-mill scuffle.

The guys say Hayes is doing fine, but that doesn’t expunge my coldblooded fear. No, it only exacerbates it. Just because a split lip didn’t warrant the need for a gurney doesn’t mean he isn’t aching from all those hits.

My nerves make a mad dash for my throat, the blood in my ears overpowering the sound of my heart. The voices from the living room carry over to the entrance of the house, and I sprint on unsteady legs to where Hayes is sitting on the couch, an ice pack pressed to his face.

My mind is spinning like a Tilt-A-Whirl, and my gaze cruises over the lacquered blood sheeting down his chin. There’s already a bruise forming along his jaw. Oh, God. I can’t imagine how much pain he must be in right now.

“Hayes!” I’m careful not to hug him too tightly, and his arms don’t wrap around me the way they usually do.

He grimaces, shifting uncomfortably to make room next to him.

“I’m okay,” he says, his reddened hand on the back of my head, tethering his fingers in my hair. It’s an action that normally pacifies me, but it seems to be doing nothing for my panic.

The guys give us the room to talk in private.

“What happened out there?” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his, our lips just barely touching.

“Oh, you know, normal hockey stuff.”

He’s okay. He doesn’t look as hurt as I thought he was, but I can’t get my emotions under control. Tears drill behind my eyes, and I gulp down the loud sob that wants to desecrate the silence.

“Aeris, I’m okay,” he repeats, a modicum of worry in his eyes.

I can’t think straight. I can’t see straight. I can’t catch my breath. Hayes’ voice is a million miles away from me, and anxiety ensnares me as if I’m an unsuspecting fly caught in the chiffon labyrinth of a spider’s web. When he reaches out to touch me, I backpedal away from him.

“What really happened out there?” I ask, but I’m not sure I even want to hear the answer.

“This asshole started insulting you, and I just lost my shit.”

Hayes got into a fight because of me?

“You can’t let those kinds of people get to you.” I grab the damp washcloth next to him and wipe away gouts of blood from his knuckles. He winces from the contact, but he doesn’t pull away.

His tongue is sharp, like a double-edged blade. “When it comes to the people I care about, I’m not going to let anything slide.”

There’s something feral about the gleam in his eyes, and it’s partnered with a warning growl in the back of his throat. I decide it’s best not to push him, and in that moment, I also decide not to tell him what my father said. I’m aware hockey’s a violent sport, but there was a part of me that was afraid I’d lose Hayes tonight. I don’t think I’d survive losing him, and that’s why I’m choosing to ignore my dad’s pathetic warning.

“Can I do anything?” I look helplessly at the bandage box and the bottle of painkillers on the coffee table.

“Just be here. With me.”

Even though the couch isn’t as wide and comfy as his bed, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be right now. He lies down with a grimace and makes room for me. I squeeze into the space he’s carved out, gently pressing my back to his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbles sluggishly, tightening his grip on me ever so slightly.

“For what?”

“For staying.”

Judging by the soft snores vibrating against my spine, I’m pretty sure Hayes has already passed out, so I whisper the last words to myself.

“I’ll always stay.”

LILA PLOPS DOWN on the couch next to me, a bucket of red vines in her arms from some secret candy stash she must have around my house.

“When are you going to tell me who you’ve been talking to?” I whine, seizing a piece of licorice before she gives me one of her Medusa glares.

She crooks an eyebrow. “Who do you think it is?”

I bite the red vine in segments Bugs Bunny-style. “Gage?”

“Too young.”

“Foster?”

“Too cute.”

I snort out a laugh. “Too cute? How can someone be too cute?”

She takes a break from her snacking, which means this is a very serious topic. “You’ve seen him. He looks too innocent. I’d destroy that poor boy.”

Horror gains traction on my face. “Excuse me?”

Lila lobs a red vine at my boobs, disgust splashing across her features. “Not like that, you perv. I’d destroy his brain,” she clarifies. “Maybe turn him into a fuckboy, like some kind of final boss girls have to fight off.”

“I doubt that would happen.”

When I don’t reach for the licorice, she swipes the candy from my lap, biting the end off. “You never know. I have a history of breaking hearts and creating monsters.”

I think back to the long list of exes Lila has, and the fourteen of them that she had to block because they used to camp out on the lawn outside her sorority house. “Okay, maybe you have a point,” I agree.

Blowing air out of my cheeks, I mentally cross out the two rookies of the group. “Is it Kit?”

“Seriously?” Lila exclaims, offended.

“He’s your type.”

“He’s the most egotistical guy I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot considering I slept with the entire Omega Psi Phi house.”

Jeez, I didn’t think I was this bad of a guesser. My eyes coast over Lila as she reaches for her glass of Dr. Pepper. I have no idea how that girl stays so fit with all the sugar she consumes.

It’s not Gage, Foster, or Kit. It can’t be Casen because he’s engaged. So that means…

I spring to my feet from the couch, rustling Lila’s entire body as I squeal. “You like Bristol!”

I’m not sure if Lila chokes from the airplane-like turbulence or his name, but streams of brown liquid shoot out her nose, and she doubles over in a coughing fit.

I point at her, doing a little dance. “That’s a yes! I knew it!”

“You did not know it,” she scoffs, wiping her mouth.

“Oh my God, Li. You two would be so good together. Not to mention you’d make insanely attractive babies.”

“Uh-uh. There will be no baby talk. I don’t even know if he likes me back.”

“He’d be stupid not to,” I tell her.

She purses her sangria-colored lips, switching our reality television program to YouTube. “Thanks, Aer-Bear, but I’d much rather focus on that yummy boyfriend of yours than my sad situationship.”

That’s right. Hayes’ interview is today. I told him I’d watch it live. We’ve already been photographed multiple times together, but this is the first time Hayes is actually speaking about our relationship to the press.

I fall back onto my butt. “Fine, but we’re coming back to this.”

Hayes is sitting in a spacious office across from two interviewers, a microphone propped up in front of him, and a neon sign behind him that blares Knights of the Sound Booth. According to Lila, they’re the biggest podcast on the platform.

“Thank you for joining us today, Hayes,” the interviewer with the square-framed glasses says. His name is Deacon, according to the tag on his shirt.

“Thank you for having me.”

He looks a lot better. It’s been a week. The wound on his lip has scabbed over, and the bruising on his face has yellowed.

“You got into quite the predicament last game. Care to comment?”

“Quentin Cadieux was talking shit, so I put him in his place,” he says calmly, though aggravation shackles his words, and there’s something predatory in his eyes that makes my veins frost over.

“And what did he say to rile up the Reapers’ notorious hothead?” the other interviewer asks, a single eyebrow poised. His name is Oliver.

“Let’s just say that he insulted someone I really care about.”

“Mm-hm. And would this ‘someone’ be your new girlfriend by chance?”

Hayes flashes a high-voltage grin before answering, “Aeris Relera is my better half.”

My better half.

My pulse jump-starts and my stomach lurches with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

Lila jumps up from the sofa, her ear-piercing squeal jangling my eardrums. Crunch shoots up from her spot on the cat tower and scampers off into my bedroom.

“Oh my God! Aeris, did you hear that? Look how proud he looks!”

Did I hear that correctly?

“And what is it about this girl that’s so special?”

Hayes forks his hand through his hair. “Everything. There aren’t enough words in the world to describe how incredible she is. I’m pretty sure I’ve laughed with her more than I have in years. She has this softness about her that I don’t think many people are capable of, but she’s equally just as strong.”

Yep, I definitely heard that correctly. I feel like I could cry. I might if he keeps talking about me like that. No, Aeris. Pull it together.

Oliver places his crossed arms on the table. “And how did you two meet?”

“We met at a bar. She was drinking by herself one night, and she caught my attention from across the room. I asked if I could join her, and I’m lucky she didn’t throw her drink in my face.”

A flurry of laughter fills the studio.

“Are you saying that a heartthrob like yourself has trouble picking up girls?”

Hayes makes a face, but it’s good-natured. “Oh, definitely. It can be intimidating being the first one to make the move. You never know how a person will react. I never used to get nervous around women before Aeris, but to this day, I still get butterflies when I’m around her.”

The podcast goes on for a bit longer, with Deacon and Oliver asking about everything from his workout routine to his guilty pleasures, but I’m still hung up on every word he said about me.

I need to see Hayes. Now.