Falling: A Fake Dating College Hockey Romance (North University Book 1)
Falling: Chapter 7

I get to the rink just in time.

I know I shouldn’t be here. I can think of a million other things my coach would rather I was doing. Like, I don’t know, going to practice and doing things that could possibly get me back on the ice. I’m sure he’d prefer me to be on our rink instead of watching Wren skate.

I’ve not been able to get her out of my head, and watching her skate in circles is exactly like how she’s been running through my mind since that date. It almost feels unreal the way she managed to grab my attention so quickly. I feel greedy when it comes to her already, and I’ve never felt like that about anyone before. She feels like this special secret that has been hiding in plain sight this whole time.

Before I met her, hockey was my only focus. It was the thing that got me up in the morning and occupied my thoughts when I was in class. I’ve been dreaming about making the pro team since I was a kid, and nothing has ever gotten in my way before. Especially now, in my second year at NU, I’m already falling behind by being too caught up in my head and too fucking anxious to make it onto the ice without suffocating. I promised myself, Carter, and Coach Tucker that I’d get my head in the game, but I think that flew out of the window the second I met Wren Hackerly. She’s like a magnet, and she doesn’t even know it.

I stand at the edge of the rink, completely and utterly captivated, watching her glide and turn. She speeds up her pace, doing some complicated as fuck spin before she lands hard on the ice, curling her small hands into fists. Everything she’s doing looks perfect to me, each movement sharp and charged with an intensity that I can’t take my eyes away from.

She’s wearing black leggings and a gray NU sweatshirt with “North Sports Department” written on the back that is a few sizes too big for her. A weird pang of jealousy curses through me, and I wonder if her ex gave it to her.

I might have reduced myself to a bit of internet stalking after our date. She’s not really mentioned her ex-boyfriend, Augustus, who was also her skating partner. Especially after what he did to her, I wouldn’t be surprised.

She must know I’m here because it’s empty and I know her practice doesn’t start for another ten minutes. She’s like me in that way. I always used to drag Xavier and Carter to the rink an hour and a half early to get some drills in before our morning skate. It always paid off in the end, and that kind of mindset is so fucking attractive on a girl.

Wren comes to a stop, her chest heaving as her eyes connect with mine across the rink. She’s still standing in the middle of the ice when I call out, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” she echoes, her voice strong like she hasn’t been skating around for God knows how long. She glides toward where I stand on the outside of the rink, leaning on the barriers. “I have classes to go to, Miles, and practice four times a week. Just because you’re benched, doesn’t mean everyone else’s lives are on hold too.”

Harsh but true. “Are you sure? I was pretty sure that’s how it worked.” It’s clearly too early for my bullshit because she just rolls her eyes at me, crossing her arms against her chest. “How’s skating going? Your mom still on your ass about the team?”

Her eyes flash with surprise. “You remembered I told you that.”

I shrug. “Let’s not make it into a big thing. You’re the one that remembered I was benched.”

“It’s quite literally the first thing you text me when you wake up,” she argues, deepening her voice to sound like more as she adds, “Morning, Wrenny, how’s your day going? Oh, mine’s great, thanks for asking. I’m still benched, and it sucks, but it’s all good! Double thumbs up.”

“I do not do a double thumbs up, and that is not how our conversations go,” I say, trying not to laugh at her very off depiction of my voice. She gives me a bored look. “We have some very productive chats.”

She sighs. “Miles, I don’t even respond most of the time. It’s like you’re talking to yourself.”

“You’re making me sound like I’m crazy.”

“You are crazy,” she says, failing to contain her laughter. “And no, I’m still workshopping ideas with Kennedy and Scarlett.”

“Any ideas taking the lead?”

Wren sighs, pushing her braid over her shoulder. “Kennedy thinks I should start an OnlyFans and see if that draws some attention to me. Scarlett thinks I should lead a peaceful protest even though I’m not too sure what we’re protesting for.”

“I like Kennedy’s plan better,” I answer immediately. Her eyes widen in shock because she definitely did not ask for my opinion. “I will literally get on my knees and beg you to do it.”

She grins. “I’m more than happy to see you begging on your knees, but I’m not doing shit.”

“Fine, I can settle for a private lap dance. It stays between us two, and no one has to know,” I suggest.

She opens her mouth, ready to say something, but something stops her, and she pauses, looking me up and down. I’m wearing a similar hoodie to hers but mine is dark blue—the school colors—and says “North Sports Department” on the back.

Wren sighs, shaking her head. “Tell you what I’ve just realized?”

“What?”

“You’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met in my life.” I groan. All that lead-up for nothing. I’m pretty confident bullying is her love language, and I’m sure I can get behind it. “How about you? How’s your problem going?”

“It’s… going,” I say, “Coach isn’t letting me back on the ice until I’ve cleaned up my act enough, and I have to go to these fucking meetings where we have to talk about our feelings.”

I shudder, and her eyebrows crease. “You mean… class?”

“Worse.”

“Oh, gee, what could possibly be worse than going to class to get a degree?”

“Group therapy,” I say bluntly.

Her lips press into a thin line. “Oh.”

I scratch the back of my neck. I have no problem talking about it. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t come up when we talked about Carter on our date. I just hate the way other people get weird about talking about therapy. It’s a normal and natural thing, especially when you’re going through a hard time. It’s felt like some big, bad secret that the whole team has been keeping since it started. There’s nothing wrong with getting help, and if it’s accessible to us, we should use it.

“We have to go once a week,” I explain. “The school organized it. They started doing them after we lost Carter, but most guys dropped out after a few weeks.”

“Then why are you still going?” she asks quietly.

“I feel like I owe it to him, you know?” I say, and it’s not the only thing; I owe him so much more than that. “When people drop out, it just shows who actually cared about him. Yeah, it might suck having us all break down while a stranger tells us how valid our feelings are, but those guys are my family. I’d rather cry in front of them than do it alone.” Wren smiles softly, and I can tell she doesn’t know what to say. I shake my head, wanting to change the subject. “Anyway, I came here because I wanted to update you on how the book is going.”

Her face lights up, and that dimple I’ve missed pops right back out. “How is it? Are you loving it? It’s my favorite enemies-to-lovers book to recommend.”

“Oh, for sure. It might be the best book I’ve ever read. Truly life-changing,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster, but it’s fucking difficult.

The excitement dies on her face, and she frowns. “You hate it.”

“Wrenny, baby, I’m trying. I’m two hundred pages in, and they haven’t even kissed yet. Or even held hands. You said it was a romance. That was false advertising,” I argue.

I don’t know what’s more surprising—the fact that I’m two hundred pages into a romance novel or the fact that they haven’t even kissed.

Wren sighs. “It’s a slow burn, Miles. They’re building up the tension, and when they eventually fuck each other’s brains out, the wait is worth it.”

“They fuck? I thought they were otherworldly beings from the fifth dimension. Do they even have the necessary body parts to fuck?”

She holds a hand up to me. “Okay, I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just butcher the language used to describe the book and you’re going to stop pretending that you didn’t know the book had sex in it.”

“I didn’t know that!” I whisper-shout as people slowly start to filter into the huge space. Her eyes flash with worry, but I continue talking, leaning in closer to her. “I read books about sports, Wren. And let me tell you, there is no kissing and fucking involved.”

She leans in and whispers, “And that’s why they’re so boring.”

She smiles smugly, and I can’t help myself. I grip both sides of her face, shaking her head slightly, and she giggles. The sound is enough to kill me.

When I stop shaking her and we’re just smiling at each other, I say, “You’re so wrong I want to kiss you.” The words are already out of my mouth, and I’m staring at her like I might do exactly what I said. She stares back at me, and for a second, I think she might want me to. I clear my throat, dropping my hands from her face. “In a very platonic and friendly way, of course.”

“Of course,” she whispers, nodding. More voices fill the room, and she steps back. “You should probably get going. Darcy hates hockey players, and I don’t know if you know this, but you’re kind of a big deal around here.”

“You’re right. I didn’t notice. Thanks for the ego boost.” I chuckle, drumming the barrier before walking away. “I’ll see you around, Wren.”

“I hope not,” she calls, but I can tell she’s smiling.