Colsen’s words echo in my head as I walk down the carpeted hallway of the ground floor.
My senses are on high alert to make sure that no one sees me. Thankfully, both cheerleaders and hockey players have early practice in the morning, and it’s late enough that everyone must be in bed.
Still, the building shrouded in darkness looks almost hostile. I look behind me to make sure that no one is following me.
All I can see is darkness and the dim, eco light of the main foyer beyond the glass panel of the fire door that separates this wing from the rest of the ground floor.
I’ve never given much thought to the expression “the walls have eyes,” but that’s exactly the feeling that makes me quicken my pace.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Taryn.” I whisper to myself. “There’s no one there.”
I feel less on edge once I close the fire door behind me and I step into the foyer. But I keep looking around as I wait for the elevator to reach me. If anyone sees me now, it’s not as bad as being caught down a wing where every apartment is occupied by the hockey team. I can say that I couldn’t sleep and I decided to go for a walk on the beach or around the campground.
The whole building is asleep, though, and I don’t encounter anyone until I close my apartment door behind me.
In the safety of my living room, I finally relax and shake the horrible feeling of being watched.
CHAPTER THREE
LIKE A BULL
COLSEN
Iusually enjoy a good scrimmage even more than actual games. The stakes aren’t as high and I can play without the pressure of scoring points.
And playing against some of my teammates is as challenging as playing against some of the best teams in our division. Coach Harrison and his team of scouts and recruiters have been doing an excellent job in bringing top notch talent to Star Cove.
Even some of the freshmen and sophomores on our team would be able to hold their own on NHL ice.
I pass the puck to Mack and watch him fly on my left. His stick handling is second to none, and he makes dodging Nash and firing one hell of a slapshot look like child's play.
Davis, our second string goalie, has no chance to block Mack’s shot that gets right in his five-hole.
We high five, confident that UCLA won’t stand a chance against us on Friday night.
“Fuck,” Nash barks at his line mate Haller. “Pay attention, Hall. You let those two in like a hot knife through butter.”
Haller doesn’t take any shit from our newest teammate. “The same stands for you, Belkin. Do I need an eye test, or I didn’t see you stop them either?”
Nash isn’t the happiest guy on the team, but since Tucker’s birthday his scowl has been darker than usual.
“He was clear that hockey is number one in his life right now.”
I should be happy that Taryn’s old crush took himself out of the equation the second things got a little harder. Especially when I think that he asked Taryn point-blank if she was gonna choose him.
Tucker and I are on the same page when it comes to our girl. The more we hang out with her and the more I think about it, the more I know that we can make things work with both of us in the picture. We respect each other, and we both want Taryn’s happiness.
The realization that her happiness is why I’m so mad at Nash hits me square in the gut like one of Mack’s slapshots.
It’s the look on Taryn’s face when she told us that Nash was mad at her. At us.
First off, he doesn’t have the right to be upset if he isn’t serious about Taryn. It isn’t like Tucker and I don’t consider hockey our priority. We both do, but the woman we love is just as important, and so is our friendship with each other.
The woman we love.
That thought hits me like a sucker punch. I’ve only known Taryn for a few weeks. Is it possible that I’m in love with her?
She’s gorgeous, funny, sweet, smart, and passionate. So the fact that I was instantly attracted to her doesn’t surprise me. But am I in love with her?
