[Copyright © 2013 The Daredevil]

All rights reserved.

***

Ryder's POV

Slinging my gym bag over my shoulder, I walked into the school's locker rooms to change into my hockey gear. Most of the team was already there, changing, so the room was buzzing with their conversations. I walked over to my locker and pulled it open. Pulling my t-shirt off, I tossed it into my gym bag.

I was grabbing my jersey out of my gym bag when I noticed something strange, very strange. The locker room had suddenly gone completely quiet. The hockey team wasn't a team that was known for their quietness and decorum. It was never quiet around a bunch of us or even a few of us.

I slowly turned around, afraid of what I would find. My brows furrowed in confusion at all my teammates just standing still, staring at me. The hell was wrong with them?

"The fuck did you guys smoke?" I asked.

Oliver, a close friend, looked around the room. "We're just shocked."

"Uh, good for you?" I rolled my eyes and turned back to my gym bag. I grabbed my shoulder pads and pulled them on.

"Is it true?" I heard Jonah, one of the hockey players, who I barely knew, ask. I turned back around to face him.

"Is what true?" I asked, not really caring.

"Dude, is it true you slept with Casey Stratford?" Oliver asked impatiently.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think that's any of your business."

"Are you kidding me? Ryder, Casey is Drake's girlfriend. You know? Drake, your best defense?" Oliver stated, clearly not pleased.

"Your point is?" I drawled, bored with the conversation. I hated people getting into my business. Why was it their concern who I slept with?

"My point is, we had a good season last year, we can't risk not having another good one because you can't keep your dick in your pants," Oliver declared, through gritted teeth.

I growled. "Fuck you, Oliver."

"You're our team captain, you need to set an example," Oliver replied, trying to stay calm.

"Are you kidding me? I have never put this team in jeopardy, and you know it," I answered, my patience running thin.

"Ryder, she's one of your teammates' girlfriend, common sense tells you that sleeping with her would bring problems," he stated.

"You need to back the fuck off," I warned him. "I'm a great leader, I would never put anyone before this team, you should know that by now."

He raised his hands up defensively. "I'm just saying, Ryder, Drake isn't going to be happy. We can't have any tension between you two."

"I don't give a fuck about Drake, if he has a problem with me, that's his fucking problem," I stated firmly, grabbing my stuff I walked out the locker room and towards the arena.

I had enough of people getting in my business.

***

I growled as Drake once again went to ram into me. The fuck was his problem? Did he forget how to play hockey? We were on the same fucking team.

I skated towards the goalie, my eyes taking in my surroundings as I dribbled the puck. Skatting down to the opposing goalie, I searched for the perfect opening to shoot the puck to Oliver when I saw someone charge towards me from my peripheral vision. I tried to get out of the way, but it was no use. The person collided with me and we both crashed into the glass. Thankfully it didn't break.

After my initial shock, I tried regaining my footing. Standing up straight and shaking my head, I turned an icy glare to the person next to me—Drake.

"What the hell is your problem?" I gritted out, pulling my helmet off.

"I don't have a problem, Cavanaugh." He skated away.

I skated after him and grabbed him by his jersey, pulling him back. "You shove into me one more time and I'll use your own hockey stick to shove through you neck, you got that?"

"Fuck you, Ryder," he replied, skating up until we were face to face.

"You have a problem with me, we solve it off the rink. This is a team, I'm not going to have you acting like a fucking girl during practice," I gritted out, the vein in my neck jumping angrily. "So unless you want to spend the rest of the season in the penalty box, I suggest you get your fucking act together."

"You know what? I hope you enjoyed my leftovers, because that's all you're getting from me," he told me and I snapped. My fist connected with his jaw and he tumbled down to the floor. I brought my hand up and inspected it. Punching someone could hurt like a bitch if you didn't know the correct way to do it. I'd been in so many fights in my life that it was only fitting that I knew how to pack a punch.

"You're an asshole, Cavanaugh. Why the hell do you have to go after someone else's girl?" he asked from the ground, bitterly.

"It's not my fault you can't give her what she wants," I answered with a smirk and skated away. I never liked the prick. I had always wanted to deck him, so it felt good to finally do so.

"Ryder!" Oliver called as he skated up to me. I turned and gave him a warning glare. I didn't need his bullshit. "Whoa, calm down. I'm here to ask...did you really sleep with her?"

I stared at him for a minute. "No."

He nodded. "Look, man, I know you and Drake don't like each other very much, but we're still a team."

"I know. He stops acting like a fucking pussy, we won't have a problem," I retorted.

"Can we just get back to practice?" he begged and I nodded.

***

"Alright, guys, that's it for today. Remember, we have a piss test on Friday. Coach wants us all to pass, so make sure you do...if you don't...well, you don't want to know what's going to happen if you don't," I made known to the guys later that day. They nodded and skated off the ice. I skated over to the sidelines and sat down. Pulling my helmet and elbow pads of, I grabbed my water bottle and brought it up to my mouth. That's when I noticed a girl sitting on one of the bleachers, hunched over a book, earphones in her ears. I got up and skated over to where the girl was sitting. I was halfway across the rink when I recognized her—Casey. I pulled my skates off and walked off the ice and up the bleachers towards her. Her eyes never left the book and I bit back a smile. Finally reaching her, I waved a hand in front of her face, catching her attention.

She pulled out her earphones and looked up. "Oh hey, I didn't realize practice was over."

"What are you doing here, Casey?" I asked.

She closed her book and shoved it into her bag, before answering, "I uh, I spoke to Drake this morning."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "You just made it worse, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah," she confessed guiltily.

"Did I not tell you to leave it alone, that I would fix it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. She avoided my gaze as she nodded. "Then why didn't you listen?"

"Um, because I don't trust anyone else to handle my problems?" she answered, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"Casey, if we're going to do this...deal...you need to learn to trust me," I told her.

"I do trust you," I threw her a look, "I do."

"You're not a very good liar, you know that, right?" I told her with a smirk.

"Yeah, so I've been told," she answered with a careless shrug and this time I smiled.

"I guess we're going to have to fix that if you're going to be hanging around me," I informed her and she gave me a curious look.

"Why?"

"Casey, if you want to do what I do, act the way I do, you will find yourself in jail every now and then," her eyes widened in horror, "so you're going to have to learn how to lie your way out of trouble."

"Jail? I can't go to jail, do you know what that would do to my record?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry.

I laughed. "I'll try to keep you out of there."

"Good." She looked down at her watch. "We should get going if we're going to get two hours in on your tutoring."

I nodded. Casey and I had decided that she would tutor me every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday after practice. "You mind if I take a shower first?"

She shook her head no and gathered her stuff, standing up. "Have at it, I'll wait for you in the library."

"Uh, about that...I'm not allowed in there..." I trailed off and she rolled her eyes.

"Let me guess, you were caught with your hand up a girl's skirt?"

I grinned. "The skirt was already off, actually." She rolled her eyes and shook her head in disapproval.

"Right. Why don't you just come over to my house?" she suggested.

"You do realize that if I go to your house I'll be distracted by Nadia and her amazing egg-making skills, right?" I reminded her. What can I say? The woman's eggs were amazing.

Casey rolled her eyes and pulled her bag over her shoulder. "Fine, there's a park near my house, meet me at my house and we'll go there."

I nodded and she nodded once then walked down the bleachers and out the arena, with me following suit.

I walked down the empty school hallway. Most of the students were home already. I turned the corner and started to head to the locker room, when I heard the 'click-clack' of heels behind me. I knew I had to get changed and head to Casey's house but I also hadn't had sex since Friday. I was starting to get edgy.

In the end my hormonal cravings won out and I slowed down and turned around, to come face to face with Phoebe Lightwood. Fuck yes. Phoebe was hot as hell. With big boobs, small waist and long legs, she'd do just fine. The best part? I hadn't banged her yet.

"Hey, Ryder," she greeted with a suggestive grin.

"Hey," I answered and slowly ran my eyes down her body.

"So, I just saw the team walk out the locker room a few minutes ago...I'm guessing it's empty," she walked over to me and pressed her body against mine.

I smirked. "Is that so?"

She nodded and ran a finger down my chest and stomach. I sucked in a breath as a part of me stood alert. She looked down and smirked.

"You know the rules?" I asked, seriously, grabbing her hand that was currently traveling south of the equator. Which I was fine with, but I needed to know she understood what I wanted.

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. You want sex only. I can't be a virgin. Once we do it, it won't ever happen again."

"Good, then I really don't see no reason to be standing here," I told her as I grabbed her hand and led her to the locker room.

***

I slung my leg over my bike and looked at my watch. It was already six in the afternoon, which meant that my chance to get any tutoring today, was lost. I turned on my bike and skidded out the school's parking lot and headed home. Once I reached my house, I turned the lights on, headed to the kitchen and grabbed something to eat.

I sighed in content as I flopped down onto my bed a few minutes later, and pulled my phone out of my back pocket to text Casey.

"Hey, sorry, I got held up." I texted.

A minute went by before I got an answer back. "How did you get my number and when did you have the chance to save yours to my phone?"

I grinned. She was so gullible. I had grabbed her phone Saturday morning when I'd been to her house and saved my number under 'Sexy man beast'.

"Not important, although, you should really keep your phone with you, oh and, school is off the chisel? Probably the worst password ever." I texted back, grinning.

Her reply came a second later. "Shut up! That is the best password ever!"

I laughed. "If it was, it wouldn't have taken me three minutes to crack it." I texted back.

"I hate you." Came her reply and I shook my head in amusement and started to type back a reply. I groaned when the stupid phone kept changing everything I typed. I tried typing my answer again only to have the same results. I gave up and pressed the call option. She answered her phone a second later.

"It's not my fault you have the worst password," I spoke into the phone.

"My password is awesome, so shut it," she answered, her voice sounding raspy and sleepy. It was sexy as fuck, not gonna deny it.

"Were you asleep when I texted?" I asked.

"No I was watching the game, why?" she answered and I swear I got a hard-on. The fuck?

"You're a baseball fan?" I replied, guessing she was referring to the game between the Yankees and Dodgers, since it was the only game I could remember being on today.

"Of course I am," she answered in a duh tone.

"Which one?" I asked curiously. If she answered that question right, there was something seriously wrong with Drake.

"Yankees all the way," she answered back and I groaned. Fuck my life. "What? Please tell me you're not a Dodgers fan? Because if you are, I don't think we can be friends anymore."

I laughed. "Who said we were friends?"

I could practically see her rolling her eyes at that remark. "I did."

"And that makes it true?" I asked, grinning.

She scoffed. "Of course it does."

"I'm guessing I have no say in this?" I replied. Grabbing the baseball on my desk, I tossed it up in the air, catching it when it came back down and repeated the process.

"Nope, none whatsoever," she answered, a smile in her tone.

"So who won?" I asked.

"Yankees," she answered.

"Thought so. So why Yankees?" I inquired.

"Why did the Yankees win or why I'm I their fan? They won because they're awesome and I'm a fan because I'm a New Yorker," she answered and my eyes widened in surprise.

"You're from New York?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah..." she trailed off. "I moved her when I was seven."

"Wait, I thought you said you and Nissa lived next to each other all your lives?"

"Yeah, my parents were in business with hers. They relocated their company, and their families," she answered.

"Oh," I replied.

"What about you? You moved here a year after I did; where did you move from?" she asked curiously. I knew it was an innocent and harmless question but I still felt skittish about answering it.

I hesitated for a moment before deciding that it wasn't that big of a deal. "Chicago."

"Seriously? I've always wanted to go there," she answered.

"Why?" I asked her.

"I don't know, it's one of the few places I haven't been to. I've just always been intrigued by it, I guess," she spoke into the phone.

"It's not that great," I informed her.

"Why is that?" she asked. Was she always this inquisitive?

"Are you always this curious?" I voiced my thoughts.

"No..."

"Casey..."

"Yes."

I laughed. "Thought so."

"Well you're one to talk," she replied indignantly.

"What? I can't help it; I like to know things, especially if they're kept secret," I answered and she laughed.

"That makes you nosy," she stated and I shrugged, remembering she couldn't see me I answered,

"So be it."

"By the way, what exactly held you up this evening?" she asked and I winced.

"Uh, you don't want to know."

"Let me guess, a pair of long legs and boobs?" she guessed in a bored tone.

"I can't help it, okay? These girls are persistent."

"And you poor thing—you're just a victim to their nasty claws and alluring boobs," she replied sarcastically.

"Exactly! It's like they hypnotize me or something," I answered seriously.

"You're unbelievable," she responded.

"Okay, fine, maybe I am, but what's the big deal? It's just sex," I replied.

"Ryder, it's not just sex, it's a sacred act. I mean sex is something beautiful between two people that love each other."

"Oh god, I have so much to teach you," I answered and she sighed. "Sweetheart, it's just sex. The guy parks in the garage, pulls out a few times, boom there is an explosion and it's over with. What so sacred about that?"

"You are so crude," she answered. "If you put it that way, of course it's just sex."

"Okay, how would you put it?" I asked with amusement. This was going to be fun.

"Love is poetic. When you have sex, because you're in love, it's like two souls are coming together. Two souls are becoming one," she answered.

"Mm, I don't know about the souls, although, I do know of something else coming together," I answered trying not to laugh when she growled in frustration.

"You're impossible."

I laughed again. It was just too easy to aggravate her.

I heard someone yell her name in the background, before she spoke up to say that she had to go and we hung up.

I slid my thumb through my contacts, looking for any name that belonged to someone I hadn't slept with yet. I smirked when the screen lit up with Grace Montez's number.

I pressed the compose a message option.

"Come over?" I texted and I soon got her reply.

"I'll be right there."

***

I woke up the next morning exhausted and groggy. I groaned as I got out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom to take a leak. When I reached the toilet I rubbed my hand down my face and pulled my sweats down. I looked down and my eyes widened in horror. What in the hell?

I felt my stomach grow squeamish. Oh no.

I pulled my sweats back on as panic began to settle in. The bile rose in my throat and I swallowed hard to send it back down. I ran out the bathroom, my heart thudding in my chest. I grabbed my phone off of my desk with trembling hands. Finally managing to dial the number I wanted to call, I brought my phone up to my ear and slumped down on the edge of my bed.

"Hello?" Oliver answered, his voice groggy.

"Oliver, my p*nis is bleeding," I told him, panic rising in my voice.

"What?" he asked.

"My p*nis is bleeding, man!" I repeated.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still clearly confused.

"Do I sound like I'm making this up? I slept with Grace Montez and now little Ryder is bleeding," I told him.

"Grace Montez? You lucky son of a bitch, that chick is hot as fuck," he answered, ignoring the real issue.

"I know, right? Oh and that little mouth? Fuck me!" I replied, losing focus for a minute.

"Dude, nice," he answered

"Okay, can we focus now?" I asked, giving my crotch a panicked look. "My p*nis is still bleeding."

"I think you got trapped into one of those trappy things," he answered.