Page 14 of Puck Right Off

Her loud laughter cuts me off. “Please stop talking about performance and finales like you were watching a damn circus instead of a hotter-than-hell hockey god fucking some busty bitch.”

Her laughter is irritating, as is her commentary. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“You know what I think? That you’re jealous because he was fucking someone else, and you like this guy already.” I open my mouth to interrupt, but she raises her voice, continuing before I can. “You’re trying to convince yourself he’s a stereotypical jock who fucks puck bunnies, but the truth is, he makes your head spin, and your panties explode. Not a bad combo, if you ask me.”

“First, I didn’t ask you. Second, you’re wrong.”

“Yet, you called me and spilled your guts. Clearly, you wanted my opinion. Second, I’m right, and you know it.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “Your panties are soaked, aren’t they?”

“Chel-sea.” I drag out her name, frustration welling inside me. The ringing of the bell above the coffee shop door as she steps inside causes a pang in my chest.I miss her and New York.

“I’m right. And the lady doth protest too much.” Her giggle grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “You like him, and that’s why you’re feeling confused. It’s easier to push him away if you think he’s a puck boy rather than a sweet man who bought you a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. By the way, any man who does that is marriage material.”

I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips. “The bookcase was super sweet. But I’m not marrying him.”

“Yet. Hold on a sec while I order.”

I stare at the ceiling, my thoughts whirling with all that’shappened since I arrived.I wonder what Tristan is doing right now?

“Okay, I’m back. Sorry it took so long. I had to douse the fire you ignited with a long drink of coffee. Hot damn, girl.” The bell rings again as she pushes through the door, the sound of traffic filling the line. “Living with a hotter-than-hell hockey player who’s into you.”

“Wait a minute. I never said he was into me.”

“You didn’t have to. I can tell. Come on, Jordyn. He pinned you against the door frame and did the infamous book boyfriend lean. He’s not only dying to get into your pants, but the bookcase proves he likes you.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m right.”

My heart pounds faster beneath my sternum, though I do my best to ignore it. “Doesn’t matter. We’re too different. And he’s too much of a risk.”

“Whatever you say, Jordyn.” The gloating tone in her voice irritates me even more.

“Whatever, bish. I miss your face.”

“I miss you, too. I promise to come visit soon so I can hear all about how good Tristan fucked you.”

Rolling my eyes, I don’t say a word.

I’ll have to prove to her that Tristan and I will never be more than roommates.

CHAPTER 8

Jordyn

Ihurry up the steps of the Weston Grove building, heading to my first class of the day. As I grab the door handle, I pause to wipe the sweat from my brow, excitement and nervousness pumping through my veins.

Pulling the door open, I exhale a happy sigh as I smell the familiar aroma of higher education. Oddly enough, it smells like my former New York campus.

Taking a sip of the iced coffee, I spot a sign pointing to the stairs. Pushing through the door, I enter the stairway and take the stairs to the second floor, my heart beating with anticipation.

Exiting the stairwell, a song is in my heart as I walk down the hallway, taking the first step toward my dreams. Anticipation courses through me because I’m starting my day with the class I most look forward to this semester and the one I’m offering tutoring in—English Literature.

My eyes roam around the room when I step through the door, stopping when they clash with mossy ones. My excitement dims, turning to shock.Oh my God. Why the hell is Tristan in my class?

A spark of recognition and something else is in his eyes, but I quickly turn away, not wanting to analyze it. He did a great job distancing himself from me the rest of the weekend. Josh nonchalantly mentioned Tristan texted, saying he was staying with their teammate, Alex, at his house.

I busied myself as much as possible, trying not to think about Tristan. I met with the Learning Center Director and the other tutors on Sunday afternoon. It was informal, a chance for us to meet and bond. Dr. Marshall, the director, divided us into groups. I enjoyed my group, and by the time we left, Jessica, Felicity, Matt, and I were chatting and laughing like old friends.

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