Rule Number Five: A College Hockey Romance (Rule Breaker Series Book 1)
Rule Number Five: Chapter 8

“YOU KNOW your dad doesn’t care what you wear, right?” Mia stood in my doorway while I pulled on a different shirt. I was on my third outfit change of the morning.

I was dressed more professionally than my normally eclectic attire, with a crisp white shirt and long pencil skirt. My hands ran over my hair, flattening the invisible flyaways, and I huffed out a breath. I really was acting crazy. “I know, I know. It’s just been a while, and you know how he can be. High expectations and all that.”

Being a coach in the NHL came with a lot of responsibilities, and my dad always expected the same effort out of me as he did his players. My dad had bailed on our last three meetups, and no matter how many times I told myself it was his loss, I still missed him. I hurried to pull on my shoes. He would be here to pick me up any minute. I was already walking out the door when my phone chimed.

Dad: Hey kiddo, I’m sorry I have to cancel breakfast. We won a big game last night, and I couldn’t bail on the celebration. Promise I’ll reschedule soon. Love you.

My eyes stung, and I sniffed in a breath, refusing to cry over this. Hockey had always come first, and I had been an idiot to think that was ever going to change. I typed out a quick reply and headed back to my room to get changed into something more comfortable.

Me: Of course. Enjoy your win. You deserve it.

Luckily, he couldn’t hear my tone through the text. Mia took one look at me and wrapped me in one of her signature warm hugs. “He canceled again, didn’t he?”

“Yup.” I popped the p, trying to add more levity than I actually felt.

“He’s an asshole. You know that, right?”

I walked through our apartment and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Our home was big enough to fit three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a sitting area but small enough to walk from one end to the other in less than twenty steps. It was built in the early 2000s, giving everything a slightly dated look that was still functional.

Mia handed me a coffee, and I greedily took a sip, letting the comforting liquid warm me from the inside. “Can we talk about anything else?”

She paused and looked me up and down for a few moments before nodding. A slow, devious smile curved her mouth. “Sooooo, how was your non-date date?”

Anthony chose that moment to come out of his room and leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, Sidney. How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date. We aren’t a thing. He’s not mine or anything like that,” I said a bit too loudly. Where the hell did that come from?

Anthony choked on a laugh, and Mia squealed.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but now I’m curious. Are you catching feelings, Sidney? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. That guy is hot.” Mia fanned herself, and I rolled my eyes.

“I had to watch some chick hit on him right in front of me like I was invisible.”

“Wait. Jax acted like you weren’t there?” Anthony’s voice was laced with anger.

“No, he didn’t seem that interested in her, but… still,” I replied, not quite meeting their eyes.

“You’re telling me he turned down a willing hot girl for your study date?” Mia smiled so wide she looked like a cat who ate the canary.

“Drop it, please. You know I don’t do hockey players.”

She laughed and cheered with her coffee mug. I headed back to my room, listening to her shout, “You’re in so much trouble, girl.”

I collapsed on my bed. Was I attracted to Jax? Sure.

The problem was I knew firsthand what happened when a player goes pro. After my mom died, my dad showed up, making promises about how I was the most important person to him and we were going to be a team from that point on. I thought he was my knight in shining armor, and we were going to live this happy life together. I was so wrong.

The first few weeks were perfect. I moved into his enormous house, which reminded me of a castle. We played cards, stayed up late eating ice cream, and watched scary movies.

I didn’t realize he had time because of the off-season, and as fall got closer, he started to pull away. His “you mean the world to me” promises didn’t last. He found me a modern-day version of a governess, packed his bags, and took off, telling me he loved me and would see me soon. I’d only seen him a few dozen times since.

I was too young to understand he was a selfish prick who went back to his career over me. Since then, I’d seen countless of his players do the same thing. I swear, at the rate they get divorced, it was a competition. Don’t even get me started on the cheating. The takeaway was, under no circumstances was it a good idea to get involved with hockey players. They were literally heartbreak walking.

When I got to class, Jax slammed into the seat beside me, rocking the entire table and nearly spilling my coffee everywhere. I snatched the cup just in time and glared at him. He missed it completely, his baseball cap pulled so low it covered his eyes. He was completely rigid in his seat; a deep scowl formed on his lips, and a muscle worked in his jaw.

“Well, good morning to you too.” My voice came out with more emotion than I wanted, but he didn’t notice.

He gruffed out, “Morning.”

I tilted my head to get a better look at him, watching as he turned away. I couldn’t help the pang of annoyance ripping through me. That was it? No sign we knew each other at all.

Jax continued to be in full-blown thundercloud mode during class. He barely said two words to me, and he’d been staring a hole into the teacher’s head since he got here. My initial thought was Jax was a complete dick, but as I watched him, I could see his jaw clenched and his hands were fisted, making white creases in his knuckles. He held himself so tensely that I worried he would crack a rib. He looked miserable. No, miserable was the wrong word. He looked stressed. Leaning over a bit, I tried to make eye contact. “You okay?”

His flat, gray eyes met mine. He must have thought it had been long enough for me to get his “don’t talk to me” hint because he faced forward again.

“Soooo, I didn’t know they let five-year-olds into college,” I said, looking directly at him, refusing to shift my gaze.

He went rigid, then took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Slowly, I could see a crack in his wall, and his lips tipped up on the side. Victory! I inwardly fist pumped. A feeling of euphoria filled me, knowing that I had put it there.

“Six, actually. I’m sad you can’t tell I’ve matured.” A hint of amusement was audible in his words.

I couldn’t help the pride I felt knowing that I did that. I lightened some of the anxiety plaguing him this morning.

“You played rough last night? I heard you were good at that sort of thing.” Oh. My. God. Please tell me I didn’t just say that. I meant his practice. I could feel the heat climb up my neck, covering my cheeks. He chuckled, and his dark gaze skimmed across me, pausing on my mouth, taking his time before meeting my eyes. He was clearly thinking about what I’d just said and everything I’d implied. His tongue darted out, and he licked his lips. I was struck again by how intense it was to have all of his attention on me. There was something irresistible about him, and it wasn’t only the attraction.

“Something like that.”

The air whooshed out of me all at once as his deep rumble rolled over me. I wanted to know exactly what “like that” meant. Shaking my head, it was my turn to stare straight ahead. This conversation had gotten me nowhere good. For all of my “hockey players are the worst” pep talks, it sure didn’t take him long to break through my resolve.

He turned his head forward and went back to his grumpy demeanor, his pen rattling against the table as he flipped it from side to side. All the tension returned to his body like he wasn’t smiling seconds ago.

By the time the class was over, I’d had enough of his attitude. I was going to snap him out of his mood, and I knew exactly how to do it. I grabbed my stuff and stood too quickly, causing me to lose my balance. His hand darted out and caught my wrist, stabilizing me.

“Careful,” he said, fingers still wrapped around my arm.

The spot we were connected tingled under his touch. This was my opportunity to make “Operation Relax Jax” a go. I pushed all the hesitation to the back of my mind.

“Come on. I’ve got something to show you.” At the risk of looking like a complete ass, I shifted our hands and closed my fingers around his, gently tugging. I wouldn’t put it past him to resist, but he surprised me by sliding from his seat, grabbing his bag.

“Lead the way.” Rough calluses moved against my smooth skin before he laced our fingers together, stroking his thumb over the pad of my palm. The feel of the barely there touch sent tingles through my arm. He was staring at my mouth, and I bit my bottom lip. He took a step toward me, but I stepped back, needing a little space between us to breathe. Neither of us let go of each other’s hand, and I turned toward the door, dragging him behind me.

I smiled, knowing I was going to fix whatever was eating at him.