Page 68 of Hate to Love You

“I’m sorry, Brody. That sounds miserable.”

“You know what saved me?” He pauses for a beat, and I shake my head. “Hockey. As much as I struggled in the classroom, I was a natural on the ice. If I didn’t have hockey growing up, I’m not sure I could have gotten through all the other bullshit.”

“If school was so difficult, why go to college? Why not go straight to the NHL?”

“I signed a contract with Milwaukee during my senior year of high school. They wanted me to play juniors. I was eighteen years old and needed time to mature physically. Attending college was my decision. I could have turned pro after the second year of juniors, but it was important to my mom that I get my college degree, so that’s what I’m doing. I’ve focused on a business degree, because after I’m done playing hockey my plan is to join my father at his management company.”

I feel like everything I’ve ever thought about Brody is wrong. Okay…maybe not everything, because he’s still a manwhore. But the importance he’s placed on school even though he clearly struggles is proof enough that there’s more to Brody than I allowed myself to believe.

It makes me realize that I was quick to judge him on outward appearances. My impression of him was that he was an arrogant jock coasting through college, so I placed him neatly into that category without examining it any closer.

With our fingers locked together, he reaches over with his other hand and slips it under my chin. “I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel sorry for me.” He shakes his head. “Your pity is the last thing I want.”

I lower my eyes. “It’s not that.” After Friday night, this glimpse into who Brody is only makes me feel more confused.

“Then what is it?”

I shrug, still feeling like an asshole. “I’ve always thought you were just here biding your time before going to the NHL. But that’s not the case at all.”

“Don’t feel bad about it. I’d much rather have people think that than find out I’m dyslexic.”

My brows draw together. What he’s saying doesn’t make sense. “But no one would judge you for it.”

“They already have.” His voice takes on a sharp edge. “When people find out you have a learning disability, they treat you differently. They don’t expect as much from you. They assume you’re not as smart because your brain works differently. Or that you’re somehow damaged. I don’t need that.”

“But you just told me,” I whisper.

His eyes singe mine. “Maybe I wanted you to know the real me.”

Those words bring a thick lump to my throat. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for misjudging you.”

Surprising me, he gets to his feet and pulls me up with him. “Come on.”

It takes a moment for me to mentally switch gears. “What are we doing?”

“Taking a much-needed study break.” He doesn’t let go of my fingers as he snakes his way around the stacks.

I glance at our table. Everything is still strewn across the top of it. “We’re just going to leave our stuff there?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

The third floor of the library is always quiet since most students prefer to study on the first two floors. I’ve only seen a few other people in the two hours we’ve been here tonight.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” he says, tugging me behind him.

We walk around a few more corners before Brody grinds to a halt. My breath catches as he pins me against a tall bookcase filled with doctoral theses.

“What are you doing?” I squeak in surprise.

He smirks. Both of his dimples pop. “I think it’s time for another lesson.”

“Another lesson,” I repeat stupidly. What is he—

Oh.

A lesson.

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