But after coming face to face with the boys tonight, knowing I have their numbers at my fingertips, makes it that much worse.
Why would I call them? What would I even say? We’re in different phases of life now. Our college fling is long over. How would they fit into my life?
I shake my head and laugh at myself. Why would I think they’d even want to be part of my life?
While I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling, my phone vibrates with a text on the nightstand.
Stephen McKinley
Sweet dreams, pretty girl.
Butterflies flit around my stomach.
I scoot up to sit against the headboard, staring down at the text.
What do I say? Why did he ask for my number in the first place? My heart thumps a furious rhythm in my chest.
But my mind quickly snuffs out the tune.
I set the phone back on my nightstand and try my best to fall asleep.
Freshman Year of College
The first practice was torture.
I loved every second of it. Hockey is a grueling sport, and I thrive on the feeling of pushing my body to its limits.
Heading back to the dorm for a much-needed shower and nap, I make my way through the exit.
“Kellerman.” Stephen jogs after me. “Hey, Kellerman. I know you hear me.”
I glance over my shoulder, not slowing my stride. “Yeah, everyone in a ten-mile radius can hear you.”
He yanks my elbow when he reaches me, forcing me to spin around and face him. “What the fuck is your problem?”
I shake him off me. “I don’t have a problem.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a winger too? I told you I played hockey the other day, and you said nothing about being on the team.”
I hike a shoulder and continue walking. “Does it matter?”
“Of course, it matters,” he says, keeping up with my fast pace. “We’re roommatesandteammates. We’re practically brothers now.”
I cough out a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You know, you’re kind of a dick.”
I roll my eyes. “And you’re kind of annoying.”
Stephen laughs like I complimented him. “I’m gonna make you love me, Kellerman. You watch. We’re going to be the best of friends before you know it.”
I give him a side-long glare. “You’re my competition, not my friend.”
Everyone on this team will be vying for a spot in the NHL when the scouts come around, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone get in my way.
His head jerks back. “No, we need to have each other’s backs. That’s how a team works.”
I shake my head, and hold myself back from popping his positive little bubble. It’s obvious he lives in a world filled with rainbows and sunshine. He doesn’t know how ugly people can truly be.