Intense Looks

ARIA

"What?" Uncle Barty asks as he watches me place all my equipment back in the cabinets of the medical room. "You're not serious. All the youngsters are going. What do you mean, you won't go?"

I sigh. I've tried explaining this to him a hundred times but it seems the truth—or maybe my reality—doesn't stick. "I don't have any friends. I can't just show up to a party alone. It's awkward and I'd rather not."

He folds his arms and gives me a look that I can only describe as The Coach Look. "And how are you supposed to make friends if you don't go out? Help me understand that."

"You don't have to. Besides, you wouldn't get it. You haven't been a teenager for like four decades."

I chuckle at my own joke but he doesn't look amused. "What I hate to see is a young woman stuck at home because she's afraid of taking things a step forward."

"You're the one who told me to keep a low profile."

"Yeah. Don't yell at the Alpha's son. Not don't go out and make any friends. Those are two completely different things."

"I'm fine. Really. You don't have to worry about me."

I start washing my hands in the little sink with antiseptic soap. I can tell he's exhausted by our conversation already because this is how it usually goes anyway. Someone appears at the door—a player, whose hair is wet, indicating that he just took a shower. He's wearing a plain gray T-shirt and jeans. I know his name. It's Tyler Hawke.

"See you tomorrow, Coach," he says to my uncle before giving him a thumbs up. "Good game tonight."

"Wait a moment, Tyler," my uncle says. The words that leave his lips make me cold. "I want to ask you to take my niece here to that party you're most likely going to."

"Uncle Barty!" I exclaim.

Tyler's gaze flickers to my face and he says, "Yeah, sure. Of course."

"Hurry up and grab your things," my uncle says before stepping toward the exit. "You don't want to be later than you already are."

I'm in shock. I can't believe he just did that. Once he's gone, I say to Tyler, "I'm really sorry. You don't have to do a thing if you don't want to. I told him I didn't want to go."

"It's alright. I'm heading there anyway."

"It's fine. You can go."

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and wrinkles his cheeks. "Are you kidding? Your uncle will have my ass tomorrow if I don't take you. I'm sorry, but I won't take that risk."

My shoulders sag. I suppress a sigh. Great. I grab my things and head out the door with Tyler. His car is the only one in the parking lot, and it's a fancy one—a sports car of some kind. It's the new model everyone's raving about.

Once in the car, Tyler clears his throat, glances at me, then says, "I've seen you around. I just never said hi because, well, you're the coach's niece. He warned us not to speak to you."

I'm shocked by this revelation. "He did?"

And then he complains about me not making friends?

"Yeah. You're new, right? Studying Healing Arts?"

I manage to nod. "Yeah. I started this semester."

"How are you liking Ironclaw University so far?"

"It's great. I love the campus and the sight. What are you studying?"

"Pack Accounting," he reveals, flashing me a smile. "My father has a firm, so...it would only make sense for me to follow in his footsteps."

"I see."

The party isn't that far away from the university, so we arrive in no time. There's literally no place to park, and we circle around the block for twenty minutes to find an empty space. It's being held inside this enormous house, and there are people everywhere. In the front lawn. Near the parked cars. Standing in the doorway.

Inside the house, it's way worse.

I'm already starting to regret coming here. I know this is a celebration of our win, but is this really necessary? The music is banging and there's trash littered everywhere.

Tyler asks me loudly, "Do you want a drink?"

I nod even though I don't really want one, and he sets off, leaving me by myself. I stand near the staircase, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans because I don't know what to do with them.

I look around, taking in all the faces present. Some of them I recognize from the university. Some, however, are unfamiliar to me. The sound of loud laughter attracts my attention, and I turn it to a group of guys in the living room, sitting around a glass table filled with empty red cups and bowls of snacks.

My heart skips a beat when I make eye contact with Ryder Drexel.

It's so unexpected that for a few beats, I don't know how to react. I wasn't expecting to see him, much less to look at him and find him staring at me already. He's seated with his legs spread slightly apart, and there's someone on his lap. A blonde with her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

I saw her at the match today—I think she might be a cheerleader, but I'm not sure. The point is that his cold gaze is directly on my face, and the bandage over his eyebrow makes him look even more sinister, for some reason.

Why is he looking at me like that?

"Here," I hear someone say next to me before a drink spilled down the front of my blouse. I exclaim, my attention now on Tyler, who's standing in front of me wide-eyed.

"Shit," he curses. He just spilled the drink in his hand all over me. "Aria, I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you clean that."

"It's al—" He starts to wipe my skin with the sleeve of his shirt, and I step back quickly. "Tyler!"

His eyes snap to mine, and I arch a brow. "It's fine. You don't have to clean me up."

He literally almost touched my breast.

"Oh, yeah...right." His face is as red as a tomato. "I'm so sorry. I was just trying to help and...yeah. I shouldn't have—"

I can tell he didn't do it because he wanted to touch me like some pervert, so I offer him a small smile. "Don't worry about it. It's fine. Is that for me?"

He looks down at the drink in his hand, nods, and hands it to me. The cup is half full, but I drink anyway. I should've asked what it was because, for some reason, the liquid inside is burning my mouth. I gag. "Ugh! What is this?"

"Moon drink," he smiles. "At least, that's what everyone calls it?"

I wipe my mouth. "Why?"

He taps the side of his head. "It makes you go loony. You know, like you behave like a lunatic after you drink it? It's strong stuff."

A laugh escapes me. It's genuine and loud. "That's creative. I don't think I'll have more, though."

"That's—"

"Tyler," a voice beside us says in a cutting tone. I once more find myself making eye contact with Ryder, who's standing right next to us. "Could you give us a moment?"

I blink several times rapidly as I stare at his face. What's he doing, standing right next to me? What does he want? Tyler nods, mumbles something, and then fixes me a look right before he turns away, leaving me alone with Ryder.

He seems upset. And why wouldn't he be? He was just dismissed like he's nothing.

Ryder steps closer to me, and his scent invades my nose. There's something about it that I find too pleasant—he really shouldn't be smelling this good. But I can't focus on that right now. I'm pissed. He really shouldn't have spoken to Tyler that way. I'm also wondering what the hell he wants from me, and Uncle Barty's words return to me quickly, leaving me cold.

"Could we have a word?"