Rule Number Five: A College Hockey Romance (Rule Breaker Series Book 1)
Rule Number Five: Chapter 11

I OPENED the playbook and adjusted myself on my bed, determined to get them memorized tonight. These past few weeks had flown by, and I couldn’t afford to fall behind in my game. The couple of PR events Rocky set up had bombarded me with new press.

Which I knew was the point, but I was tired of seeing my face everywhere. I had this constant inkling that I should talk to Sid about it, but there was a distinct part of me that wanted to keep her out of it.

I spent the next hour immersed in studying, but I couldn’t stop picturing the feisty brunette currently running circles in my brain. Just being near her calmed the restless part of me. The part that thought I would never be enough. She was addictive, and it was more than just the challenge of her ridiculous rules. Now all I wanted to do was figure her out.

Her pouty lips and her smart-ass mouth had been the star of an embarrassing number of my fantasies. She had drive, tenacity, a stubbornness that nothing and no one could get in her way. She reminded me of Marcus. I bet she saw her dreams as a “when” and not an “if,” just like he did.

Of course, with all the girls chasing me, she had to be the one pushing me away. Oh, she was attracted, sure, but she put as much space between us as possible. Last week, I thought she was going to fall out of her chair because she leaned so far away.

I should’ve been insulted, but for all of her attempts to look unaffected, her eyes still drifted back to mine. Sid showed me she wanted me, whether she knew it or not. When she concentrated on her notes, her body slowly listed my way, as if she was being drawn into the same current I was. Then there was the way her cheeks flushed pink when I brushed against her.

I caught myself paying more attention to her than the class. She did this thing where she pulled her hair up with a deep red elastic, revealing the smooth column of her neck, or pushed it all behind her shoulders, filling the space with her citrus scent. Then there was the way her teeth gnawed her bottom lip as she fought for every second of concentration. And when she laughed… Fucking bottle that shit up and sell it to all the lonely men out there because it felt like coming home.

Unable to resist, I reached for my phone and sent her a quick text.

Me: You’re wrecking my concentration.

Staring at my phone, I watched as the little bubbles danced at the bottom.

Trouble: I’m ruining your concentration? You texted me.

Me: There’s that sass I love.

I paused, not knowing what to say, but I didn’t want to stop talking to her.

Me: I’m tired of running through plays and now I’m bored.

Trouble: Sounds like a YOU problem.

Me: Come on, don’t be like that.

Trouble: Fine. Read something.

Me: Like a book?

Trouble: Yes, genius. A book.

Me: Yeah, ok not my smartest answer.

Me: What kind of book?

Trouble: IDK anything you like. You have read books, haven’t you?

Me: Yes, Sid. I’ve read books.

Trouble: Alright… What did you like?

Fuck, what did I like? I didn’t know. I liked Game of Thrones, but I lost interest after the third book. Dune was an… experience. Not one I was down for diving back into. When the hell was the last time I read anything good?

Me: What do you like?

It took so long for her to answer I thought she’d left me hanging.

Trouble: You’re not going to like what I like.

Me: What? Why?

Trouble: Because guys don’t read the type of books I read.

Me: Well, now you have to tell me.

Trouble: Yeah, I don’t think so.

Me: Why the fuck not?

Trouble: Because, no.

My mouth twisted in a grin. Now I needed to know exactly what books she liked.

Me: What are you afraid of?

No reply.

Me: Are you reading dirty books, Sidney?

Bubbles appeared and disappeared as she typed. When they stopped and nothing else popped up, I sent her another message. I sounded desperate, but fuck it. I wanted to know. Something about getting my hands on a book so filthy she was embarrassed to tell me about it had my entire body vibrating.

Me: Tell me a book to read and I’ll tell you how much I like it.

I dropped my arm and ignored the pounding in my chest. Fuck. Did I push her too far? Did she think I was some kind of perv? I typed out, “just kidding,” but her message appeared before I hit Send.

Trouble: Sin & Sinners, but we are not talking about it.

Me: Sure we aren’t.

Trouble: Goodbye, Jax.

I paused in front of the mirror. A huge, ear-splitting grin covered my face. Something about her pulled all of my strings. There was nothing I enjoyed more than getting under her skin.

I hit Dial, pacing the room, and slid my left hand into the pocket of my jeans. It kept ringing. What the fuck? The fucking balls on her.

The click of the connection on the other side cut off my thoughts.

“You know I can revoke your phone privileges for calling me, right? No one calls anyone anymore. Strictly impersonal texts. Maybe some memes. You crossed an invisible line with this whole calling thing. Like, when you were a kid and you didn’t show up to someone’s house at suppertime. It’s just not done.” Sid’s voice was light, with hints of laughter behind it. Her feistiness had my mouth tipping at the corner.

“Were you really going to ghost me on this call?” I tried to sound serious, but I couldn’t help the small laugh.

“I wouldn’t call it ghosting, but sure, yeah, I was thinking about not answering,” she said playfully.

“Ouch, that hurts.”

“Don’t worry. A little humility will be good for your big ego.”

“Uh-huh, sure it will.”

“What do ya need, Jax?” There was rustling in the background, and I could barely make out the squeak of her bed when she sat on it. Suppressing a groan, I took a long breath in. The image of Sid lying on her bed had blood flooding to my dick. Get it together, man.

“Okay, I’m going to be up-front with you. I don’t normally call anyone. I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re stuck in my head, and I need to concentrate, so I just wanted to talk to you. You know, to see if that helps.” There was such a long, awkward pause I thought she might have hung up. Her breath was soft through the speaker, and I sat back on my bed. She hadn’t hung up, so I would wait her out.

“What’s your favorite food?” she asked.

I did a silent fist pump victory dance. “My hometown pizza. Hands down, the best. You can’t convince me otherwise.”

“I bet there’s a bunch of people in Italy, Boston, and New York that would disagree with you.”

“They’d be wrong. They don’t know what they’re missing.” My cheeks hurt from smiling, but it was just her. It was what she did to me.

“For me, it’s warmed-up chocolate croissants.” She moaned a little, and I tensed as a shiver ran through me. This girl was going to be the death of me.

“What’s your favorite movie?” I asked, adjusting until I was lying flat on my bed.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure I have a favorite movie, but I’m dying to see Hamilton.” I noted that fun fact and filed it away to look up later.

“If you weren’t the next sports star, what would you be?” She was getting into this.

“Easy. Homeless.” That startled a laugh out of her, which had me chuckling. The more we talked, the more relaxed I got. “Here’s one: Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or one hundred duck-sized horses?”

“What?” Her surprised laughter rang through the phone. “I don’t want to fight either.”

“Not an option. Come on, Trouble, answer the question.”

“Trouble, huh?” She paused for a second but continued. “Hmm, if I have to choose, I’d pick the giant duck. At least it would be faster than thousands of tiny bites from tiny horses.”

“Oh, morbid. Didn’t expect that.” I found myself sprawled out on my bed, listening to her talk about her plans after school. She was strong and determined, and it was sexy as hell. Sid was unbelievably easy to talk to. It was like slipping into a dance we’d done so many times our bodies had it memorized. Her voice was soft, and I tried to talk as little as possible to not distract her, giving just enough so she knew I wasn’t bored.

I didn’t notice the time until she yawned. She was barely awake on the other end. It had been a good five minutes since either of us had spoken. Realizing she might have actually been asleep, I whispered, “Sidney?”

It was past 2:00 a.m. “Uh-huh?” Her voice was sleepy but clear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Are you trying to be my friend, Jax?”

I couldn’t stop my grin. “No, not really.”