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Did I mention how stupid the nickname is? One of the seniors during my first year bestowed me the title when I kept deking out the opposing team’s defensemen and beating them to the net. The dumb name stuck ever since.
“Maybe some other time,” I tell her, forcing a smile. I wonder how many times I’ll have to deflect their advances before they get the hint. As much as I appreciate their admiration, I crave something deeper, something real amidst the chaos surrounding me.
“Come on, you’re no fun,” pouts the first woman, softly stroking my biceps with her fingers. Suppressing a groan, I try to maintain my composure. But then her eyes widened as if she had a thought. “Juliette’s been looking for you all night. We could leave before she finds you.”
My back tensed at the mention of Juliette Heyday’s name. She’s been trying to hook up with me since the first year, and I want nothing to do with her. She’s only after one thing, which isn’t for one night. But I question why this girl would mention her. They run in a pack with Juliette leading the way.
“I thought she was your friend?” I ask.
“We share.”
Jesus. I’m so not up for this.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve got too much going on right now.” My voice is gentle but firm. I hope they understand that it’s not a personal rejection. It’s just not what I need right now.
“All right, if you change your mind, you know where to find us,” one says with a wink before they sashay away, leaving me to mull over my thoughts again.
I stare at my beer, watching the condensation trickle down the bottle like the sweat on my brow when I push myself to the limit on the ice. The NHL is within reach, but so is the constant pull of my family’s expectations. It’s an ongoing battle, a game of give and take that I am determined to win—for myself and nobody else.
“Hey, Duke!” My winger Easton calls out, snapping me back to the present. “Come join us for a round of shots!”
For a moment, I consider declining, but this is a celebration, after all. We have a long season ahead of us. Why not enjoy it? I’ll down a few drinks, share some laughs with the guys, and put my worries aside for a few hours.
But let’s be real. After a few more shots, the night still doesn’t feel quite right.
I take another sip of my beer, scanning the room for an escape from the crowd. The pulsating music courses through me as I make my way through the mix of people. I halt when I spot Juliette Heyday standing before the entrance, eyes locked on me like a predator stalking its prey.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, feeling an urgent need to get away from her relentless pursuit.
“Hi, Blake!” Juliette’s shrill voice cuts through the party noise, and my stomach clenches with dread. She grins, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hey, Juliette.” I force a smile and keep a polite distance between us. Her vibrant red lipstick and form-fitting dress accentuate her appearance. Don’t get me wrong—she looks good, really good—but her knack for stalking puts her in the stage-five clinger category. Despite rejecting her countless times, she refuses to face reality. Walking the fine line between turning her down without hurting her feelings is delicate. Not to mention, she writes for the college newspaper and could be behind the anonymous Rumor Has It gossip column. After witnessing Braxton Smith, the captain of the baseball team, experience public humiliation in that piece, I have no interest in becoming its next target.
“Congratulations on the win,” she coos, inching closer to me. Her overpowering perfume, a sickly sweet mixture, makes me want to gag.
“Thanks.” I step back, but she closes the gap again despite my efforts and rests her hand on my chest.
“So, are you celebrating with your teammates?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes at me. I can see the hunger in her eyes, and it unsettles me.
“Uh, yeah, that’s the plan,” I say, trying to sound indifferent. My heart races, but not in a good way. I need to get out of here.
“Maybe we could celebrate together, back at your place?” she suggests. Her fingers trace patterns on my shirt.
I take a deep breath, my patience wearing thin. “Look, Juliette, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a lot on my mind now. I just need some time to myself.”
Her face falls, but she quickly recovers and puts on a fake smile. “You’ll change your mind one of these days.” And with that, she saunters away, hips swaying provocatively.
I shake my head, trying to clear the lingering scent of her perfume from my nostrils. This party is too much for me—I need some air.
Making my way toward the exit, I don’t stop until the door swings shut behind me. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the weight of the party lifts off my shoulders. I let out a frustrated growl and lean against the stone wall of the fraternity house, running a hand through my tousled dark hair.
“Are you okay?” a voice asks from the darkness, startling me from my thoughts.
I glance toward the steps and find Ryan’s friend, Amanda if I remember correctly. Yeah, I’m positive that’s her name. My gaze moves along her simple pair of jeans that hug those wide curves to her loose T-shirt that hides a generous rack. She always dresses like she’d rather be anywhere else than here. I’m pretty sure she’s the studious type, maybe Pre-Med?
“Hey,” I greet her, attempting to muster a charming smile. “Yeah, just needed a break from the party, you know?”
She nods with concern in her keen green eyes, studying me carefully. “I completely understand. Actually, I’m here looking for my roommate, Maddy. Have you seen her inside?”
