Page 1 of Treacherous
Chapter 1
Willow Rogers
My knuckles hit the wooden door, the echoing a death rattle in my ears.
Lakewood’s Hockey House is bigger in person–the double-storey house has a blue façade and an endless number of windows. I noted a balcony on the second level when I approached the foreboding house, which is interesting to say the least.
Lakewood University must have provided hefty funding to the hockey team because my previous college didn’t have a house this massive. I suck in a breath, forcing Nevada from my mind. Describing the past two years as utter hell could somehow be an understatement.
I was eight years old when I started playing hockey, and for the following years, it was fun. I loved the sport and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But at fourteen, I was served a harsh reminder of my place–women don’t belong in sports.
After an idiotic teenage boy uttered those words, I clung to them, seeing them as a challenge. I'd watch NHL games at night, snuggled under my blanket, because I was supposed to be asleep. In the future, I craved my skills would do the talking and I'd be an athlete at the top of her game, inspiring young girls to chase their dreams.
This goal was my fuel source; it defined who I was as a person. That all changed when I arrived at the University of Nevada. My love for hockey was drained from my body–the process a slow death, with a teammate serving the final blow.
I swallow, ignoring my churning stomach. So, I bolted. Jazmine–my best friend, who also attends Lakewood University–continues to tell me this is a trauma response.
I shouldn’t ignore her opinion, seeming as she is studying to be a sports psychologist, but I don’t know if I will ever be ready to face the fears that have found a home inside my heart.
All I want to focus on for my senior year is hockey and, subsequently, the Frozen Four.
I bang my knuckles against the door again, frustration building in my throat. Finally, someone answers. The boy has chaotic, brown hair, and his muscles are poking out from his tight white shirt. I recognise him but can’t place a name.
The guys offer a small smile, dimples forming. “Sorry, Aiden isn’t here if you’re one of his girls.”
I narrow my eyes, scoffing at his insinuation. “I don’t know who the fuck that is, but you can take your insinuation and shove it up your ass. I’m no one’s girl,”
The guy blushes, his pale skin making it obvious. He clears his throat. “Apologies. How can I help you?”
“I’m moving in today.”
He cocks his head to the side. “You’re moving in?”
Surely the team was briefed about my arrival. These days, it is unusual for women to play in the men’s division; however, I couldn’t afford to go to a college that has a women’s hockey team.
It is frustrating that most colleges aren’t investing in women’s sports like they do with men’s, but I suppose that is how it has always been.
I sigh. “I’m your new teammate, Wil–”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
I inhale, a smirk curving on my lips. The low voice is immediately recognisable, sending sparks up my spine. Jayden Allen–my best friend’s brother and the man who has been a thorn in my side for the past seven years.
The guy in the doorway side steps, my eyes running over Jayden’s figure. His beard has grown out since the last time I saw him–last year during my visit to Jaz–as has his hair.
Jayden’s fists are clenched, the veins in his arm bulge and I hate that they grab my attention. Add in the tattoo sleeve on his right arm and it would be a lie to say Jayden isn’t attractive.
Fortunately for me, I have seen all the unattractive qualities he possesses, including his control freak tendencies and an unchecked ego. Jayden looms over me but I don’t back off, staring into his eyes.
“Oh, you two know each other?”
I jump, forgetting the other guy was even there. Jayden ignores his teammate, clearly wanting answers for himself.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he grits. “Why are you here?”
“You’re looking at your new teammate and roommate.”
Jayden’s face flushes, red rushing from his cheeks and down his neck, while his jaw clenches. I smile at the sight.
