Page 24 of Hate to Love You

He frowns and tosses the phone onto the table. “Why would you get into a fight with a fellow player over a piece of college ass? I’ve been on campus. I’ve seen the girls at your games. There’s more than enough to go around. You don’t need to fight over the same piece of tail.”

I glare, annoyed by the turn this conversation has taken. “Natalie isn’t some piece of ass.” Even using that term leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

He points to the phone and the lit-up Facebook screen. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times that getting involved is a mistake. The last thing you need is to lose focus. Everything you’ve been working for is finally in reach. Don’t fuck it up now. Not over something like this.”

I plow my fingers through my hair again, feeling agitated. “It’s not like that, okay? You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” I knew he would blow this out of proportion.

“Really?” He arches a brow. “So you and Reed are all good?”

Reed Collins and I have never been good. And I don’t see that changing at this point.

“No,” I bite out.

He shakes his head, and his eyes fill with disappointment. “I’ve always told you to go out and have fun. Enjoy as much pussy as you want.”

I roll my eyes and grumble, “Jesus Christ, Dad. I seriously don’t want to have this conversation with you over Sunday brunch.” Everything I’ve just inhaled feels precariously close to revolting.

“What?” He smirks. “You think I didn’t do the same thing when I was your age? I boned every girl who would let me.” His look is knowing. “You and me, we’re not so different. You work hard on the ice, you earn the right to blow off a little steam and play just as hard off of it.” Getting serious again, he jabs a finger at me. “But you play smart. That means not getting serious about a girl at this stage of the game.”

Even though I’ve only plowed my way through half of the eggs and pancakes, I push my plate away. When I remain silent, he continues.

“End whatever’s going on with this girl before it gets out of control. You don’t need the distraction. Especially now. You have enough to focus on with classes and hockey.” He waves a hand in the air. “You want some pussy, be my guest. No one is stopping you. But that’s all it is. There will be plenty more when you hit the pros.”

I rub my forehead, just wanting to put an end to this conversation. “Natalie’s a friend. That’s it. This isn’t something you need to worry about, okay? Just chill out.”

And for the love of God, stop saying “pussy.”

Before I left for juniors, my dad sat me down and had a very similar discussion about not getting involved in relationships and the necessity of keeping my focus on hockey and my NHL dreams.

Have there been girls I would have liked to get to know better?

Yeah. A few.

But I didn’t pursue them. I’ve done exactly what he wanted and kept women at a distance. I can’t say that he wasn’t right. I see what most of these girls are like. They want a piece of you because of who you are and where you’re going. I don’t need that.

“Just make sure you keep it that way,” Dad says in a stern tone.

The legs of my chair scrape against the tile floor as I push away from the table. “Well, this has been a real slice, but I need to get back to campus and study.”

“Fine.”

As I walk away, he adds, “And square things up with your co-captain. You don’t need to bring bad blood out onto the ice with you. Not when your season is just about to get underway.”

I wave a hand over my shoulder while walking toward the front door.

Yeah…that’s not going to happen.

Reed can suck it, as far as I’m concerned.

Chapter Nine

Natalie

“I need coffee,” I moan, feeling blurry-eyed as Zara and I set out across campus. “Please tell me we have time to stop.” I didn’t sleep well last night. All I could think about was the ridiculous situation with Brody that I’ve become embroiled in. It’s frightening how quickly it’s taken on a life of its own. Clearly, it needs to be snuffed out before it grows any larger.

Zara glances at her phone. “As long as there isn’t a huge line, we should be fine.”

We stop at Java House, a coffee shop in the middle of campus. As I open the door and step inside, I’m not surprised to find a longer-than-usual line. My guess is that everyone is still hungover from the weekend and needs a little extra shot of caffeine to jumpstart their Monday morning.

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