*Being Published in 2022*
❝You can't deny that you're attracted to me, Nyx. Instead of fighting it, let's see what happens,❞ he grumbled, hands roaming my body. His thumb brushed my bottom lip. ❝Open up for me, baby.❞
...
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"Second year Sports Management major," Nyx answered my mom after she gulped down the portion of food she was eating. There were twin stains of red on her cheeks, courtesy of the crying she'd done previously. My parents didn't investigate it and I had a nagging impression they thought she was red because we were doing something sexual. Not even close. As much as I was aching to have Nyx in any way, she was hurting and this wasn't the time.
My dad's brows nearly darted into his hairline at her rejoinder, and he looked at me with deep eyes. The man looked like he stepped straight out of a caricature. All he was missing were the exaggerated lines and features. Desperate that Nyx didn't see his reaction, I instantly shook my head, and he glimpsed back at his food, disguising his laugh with a cough.
He heard about her before, but that was last year, back when I was completely obsessed with her. Then that changed to hatred. All that I ever did was whine about her. My mom heard the same criticisms but apparently, a woman's mind worked differently so she had an entirely separate view of Nyx compared to what I did. My parents had heard everything there was to hear about Nyx Taylor.
My mom, seeing as she already knew who Nyx was, maintained the conversation. "You sound like you know what you want to do."
Nyx coloured even redder. For somebody who enjoyed throwing her achievements around, she blushed a lot at the mention of it. "I've known what I wanted to do for a long time. It wasn't possible to risk not knowing. I had a deadline for scholarships and university applications. If I picked wrong, it wasn't like I could redo the year. Hopefully, by the time I graduate, I can get into sports Pr management-"
"You'll get in," I appended, reaching for my glass. The table went hushed and my dad was grinning. Nyx looked befuddled, and I cursed under my breath. "I mean, you've had a lot to do with the ice hockey team in the past year." Her eyes went shadowy, and I discerned it seemed like I was referring to Rafe. Fuck. "You've attended every game, and you wrote those awesome articles on our matches in the university magazine-"
Her lips parted in astonishment. "You read those?" Double fuck. She shifted to my mom, who was grinning too. "I didn't think anybody read those. My articles were always too precise and detailed that they seemed a bore to read."
Yet, I read every single one.
"That's exactly the type of attitude you need in your career choice," my dad responded after clearing his throat. "There's no such thing as too detailed. If you always put your best foot forward, nobody can ever doubt you. Take Beck for example," he said with a smirk and flinging me a look. I tensed. "My boy wasn't even the captain, yet they were treating him like one-"
