Falling: A Fake Dating College Hockey Romance (North University Book 1)
Falling: Chapter 25

I think I’ve fucked up.

I don’t know what I’ve done, but I have a very strong feeling Wren is ignoring me. I haven’t seen her since the day of the game, and even though we’ve both been busy with classes, I’ve hardly gotten a text from her. We’ve worked out together twice since then, but it’s mostly in silence since I have a routine I stick to now, and she does her own thing.

Even when I make my hilarious gym jokes, she just ignores them.

“Why did the cheese go to the gym?” I said once while I caught my breath, standing over her while she did sit-ups.

“Why?” she asked with a bored expression, not a single waver in her voice even after doing fifty sit-ups.

“Because he wanted to cheddar couple pounds,” I replied. She just blinked up at me, not even a crack of a smile on her face. I remember when these kinds of jokes would earn me a toothy grin and a kick in the stomach. Now she doesn’t even care. Or even pretend to care. She stood up and looked at me.

“Can you spot me on the bench press?” she asked. She barely looked at me for the rest of the day.

I’m beginning to think that kissing her was a bad idea. In the moment, we both wanted it. She was really fucking enthusiastic about it when she was moaning my name with my fingers inside her, but maybe it was just a moment of weakness. Maybe I’m in way over my head, and what we did really meant nothing to her. She keeps telling me she’s busy, but I don’t know how much of that I believe anymore.

I just want her to talk to me. To let me in. I feel like I’ve been floating around her, stuck in this weird cycle of never being fully taken in and it hurts so much more knowing what it is like when she lets me in.

Since speaking with Clara, I’ve felt lighter. I still haven’t spoken to my mom yet, but I’m getting there. With having regular classes and attending some practices, I don’t feel as alone anymore. When I get home after college, I don’t feel this weight on my chest like I used to a few months ago. Everything is starting to feel more manageable, and the thought of getting back on the ice doesn’t sound so bad.

I got a phone call yesterday from Coach, asking me to meet him this morning.

He knows about the fight. He has to. Someone must have told him, and this could be the start of the end. I could lose my scholarship, and I’d have to move back home, start community college, and get my old job back.

I walk the distance from my house to the sports center to clear my head. It can’t be that bad, right? Fights happen all the time when they’re not supposed to. They’re taken more seriously when it’s on the ice, but since this was out of game time, I don’t know what the sanctions are. Coach Tucker is usually more laid back about these things, but I’ve not exactly been proving to him that I’m still his most valuable player.

I get to Coach Tucker’s office, and the door’s already open. His office is more like a closet, filled top to bottom with sports equipment. There are tons of equipment for sports that he doesn’t even coach and certificates and medals hung on the walls. His desk is piled high with paperwork and folders, but when they’re cleared, it’s easy to see the pictures that he has on his desk. His most famous photo of him, his husband, and their three corgis, from the day he found out he got the job at North.

When I go in, I’m greeted with a smile, and he gestures toward the seat in front of him. I can’t read his face just yet. I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

“Miles, I’m sure you know why you’re here,” he begins, strangely cheerfully. He leans his forearms on the table, his dark brows knitted together in a serious expression.

“Uh, I think so,” I reply cautiously. He lets his expression drop and sighs deeply.

“I heard about what happened after the game. More like, I saw what happened. Butler showed me a video, and I heard about what Jake said to you. I’d like to say that I’m sorry he said that,” Coach says, and I shrug, not wanting to relive that moment. I’m going to talk to Harry for narcing on me, the little shit. “I understand why you did it, but I’m still disappointed.”

“If you’re going to kick me off the team for good, can you just say it? The suspense is killing me.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Miles, I’m not kicking you off the team. You think I haven’t seen you throw a few punches at other players during the games even when you’re not supposed to? These things happen, and neither of you reported it or were badly injured. The fact that Jake’s been avoiding me like the plague since it happened, I’m assuming it’s not going to happen again. As long as you and Jake can separate what happened from what the team needs, I want you to play during the playoffs. You’ve proved that you’re in a better place. Your grades have improved and it would feel wrong to keep you benched just because of this incident.”

“Really?” I exclaim, not able to contain the excitement in my voice. Coach smiles wide, nodding. “You’re not going to regret this, Coach. Thank you.”

“I still want you to be training over the holidays, and if we make it through the playoffs, you need to bring your all to get back your captaincy. If you need someone to talk to, you know, about Carter… I’m here.”

“I know,” I say before pulling back my chair and thanking him again.

“And, Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. I know this has been a hard year for you, but watching you slowly turn it around has been a blessing,” he says, nodding at me. “I was going to wait until the new year to let you back on the team, but you’ve earned this in more ways than one.”

I clear my throat, trying to keep in the tears. I can’t cry right now. But Coach has always been a second dad to me. He saw me as a wild high schooler who needed real training and took the chance on me. He saw my potential, and he hasn’t looked back since.

“Thank you, Coach. I appreciate you saying that,” I say.

“Anytime, Davis.”

I have the biggest smile on my face when I walk around to the rink Wren is skating on. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m too excited to not tell her right now. I know she’s been busy, and I have no idea when I’ll next get an uninterrupted minute with her.

She’s in the middle of spinning, with her foot high above her head in a black leotard. She skates forward before doing a triple turn in the air and landing wobbly.

“Fuck me,” she says loudly, and she begins again.

I watch her for a few more minutes, completely in awe. There’s something so effortlessly perfect about the way Wren skates. Even if she doesn’t think so, I think she’s the most talented person I’ve ever met. When she comes to a slowdown in her routine, I wonder if she’s noticed me or if she really is just ignoring me.

“I’ve got good news,” I announce. She stops abruptly and stares at me from across the ice before floating over to me. She stands at the railing, her face red and puffy. “I got back on the team.”

Wren’s face lights up, and her smile widens. “That’s great, Miles. That’s really good, honestly. That’s great.”

“Yeah, you said that twice,” I say, laughing and shifting from one foot to the other. “But it’s all thanks to you. So, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re the one who put the work in. You just needed someone to push you.”

I shrug and we stay silent for a while. She looks at my face in a curious way as if this is the first time and she’s trying to figure me out. Her eyes land on my lips, and they hover there for a beat. Her tongue runs against her bottom lip before she shakes.

“How’s practice going?” I ask.

“It’s good. Could be better,” she replies, waving her hands in defeat.

I nod, and we just stare at each other. She’s been more on edge recently, and I can’t figure out what it is. It might be because we’re coming up closer to the showcase, but I don’t like that she’s been shutting me out too. I know she might not like me very much, but I thought we moved past that. I can’t take the silence for much longer, so I say, “Have you been ignoring me?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to text your boyfriend back every once in a while?”

“Fake boyfriend, and yes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I suck right now, and the show is in less than two weeks, so I really need to get my shit together,” she explains, blowing out a puff of air.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” I ask, awkwardly wringing out my hands.

“I was going to work out tomorrow night. I’ve got some homework due,” she says, but she avoids my gaze.

“I’ve got that interview with the team for Sophia’s documentary. A lot of people are going to be there, and you could invite them to the show,” I say. She thinks about it for a minute, twisting her mouth to the side. “Come on, Wren. We haven’t hung out in days. You said an orgasm wasn’t going to change anything, but it feels like it has.”

“I—It hasn’t.”

“Yeah? Then talk to me. Sit in awkward silence with me, I don’t care. Just please stop shutting me out,” I say, my tone pleading. “I miss you.”

Her eyes finally meet mine, and she whispers, “I miss you too.”

I make a show of trying to clean out my ears. “Can you repeat that for me?”

“No.” She smiles, and it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. A sight I’ve missed and it’s only been a couple of days. “I do have to go back to practice though. Congrats on getting back on the team. You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you.”

I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes, pushing away from the barrier before she continues skating. I walk out of the building with my head high, and a weird feeling settles over me.

Hope, I think.