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She rolls her eyes at me. “Does all your fangirling have a point?”
“Of course, it does. You have a shot with Preston. Take it, girl. This is your one chance. Girls like us don’t get these kinds of opportunities to date guys like him. They usually go for cheerleaders or sorority girls.”
“My dad has rules about his team,” she hedges. “You know them well.”
“How can I forget? No talking to his players. No hanging out with his players. No dating his players.”
“Technically, I already broke one of them when I talked to Preston in the locker room.”
Yesterday, before she ran into Preston and his teammates at Gio’s, a pizza shop on campus, she literally ran head first into Preston’s chest on her way through the men’s locker room. I couldn’t believe she committed to walking back to her dad’s office once she saw the players were still getting dressed in the locker room. I would have died.
Her dad often tells her to meet him in his office, where he obsessively watches game tapes and strategizes for each game. Bex has the same obsessive behavior as her dad when it comes to basketball. We both do. Sometimes, we spend hours at a time reliving the games we lost in hopes it will help us learn from our mistakes.
“Your dad broke his own rule by introducing you to his players. He shouldn’t have done that if he was going to be such a hard ass.”
She gives me a look that says she knows I have a point. Because of her past, hockey players are off-limits to Bex.
“It’s not just his rules,” Bex admits. “After what happened with Kellan, I have no interest in dating, let alone his players. I still don’t. Kellan left a lasting effect on my life, one I never want to repeat.”
In high school, Bex dated Kellan Lehane, her father’s star player who attempted to ruin her life by posting naked pictures of her online. To this day, she still hasn’t been able to get all of them taken down. She’s constantly humiliated by what happened, even though it’s not her fault.
Her dad is overprotective because of Kellan, and since he plays hockey for Boston College, her dad still faces him on the ice every year. It’s like the reminder of Kellan never fades for Bex and her dad. He’s always there in some way to torture them.
I frown at the thought of Kellan. “Yeah. I still can’t believe you have to deal with everything that happened with him. It’s been four years.”
“Some mistakes can’t be undone.” She sniffs as if fighting back tears.
I get the urge to hug her, though I know Bex would push me away. My bestie has a rough and tough exterior. She acts as though she never needs anyone. Sometimes, she confesses that Kellan still has a hold on her. He’s the reason she hasn’t dated anyone on campus. For as long as I’ve known Bex, the memories of her past have messed with her head.
He shouldn’t be allowed to keep controlling her life when he’s no longer in it. But the scars are still there. That’s why I worry about her hanging out with Preston Parker. Though, I am excited at the promise of Bex moving on with someone new. It’s about time she dates. She’s allowed Kellan to keep her from living her life for too long.
I cup her shoulder. “I’m sorry, babe.”
She sighs. “Kellan was—”
“An ass,” I finish for her.
Once we reach the parking garage, Bex removes a set of keys from her bag and clicks the remote to open her dad’s car.
She retrieves a men’s leather wallet from the cup holder. “I have to run this over to my dad. It won’t take long. Do you want to tag along? We can grab something to eat from the cafeteria afterward.”
My nose wrinkles in disgust. I hate eating in the cafeteria. They serve only junk and fried crap that ruins my mojo for basketball. And the last time I let someone talk me into going to the cafeteria, Drake knocked me on the floor and then proceeded to act like a pig.
“No, to cafeteria food. A definite hell yeah to sneaking a peek at the men’s ice hockey practice.”
“Awesome.” She shuts the door with a smile and locks the car. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to face the guys alone, especially not Preston.”
“Are you kidding me? As if you even had to ask.”
Because Drake will be there.
She chuckles. “Don’t act like this around the guys. Their egos are big enough.”
“Gotcha. Don’t feed the players,” I quip. “Duly noted.”
She shakes her head, entertained by my usual goofy comments. Someone has to lighten up the mood. Bex can be such a downer sometimes.
Five minutes later, we reach the ice rink on the other side of campus. Before we enter, I fix the dark strands which have fallen in my face with my fingers. I look like a mess, my forehead coated in sweat and my hair a little frizzy from the unusual heat. I’m from Southern California and used to warmer weather but not the humidity. Why is it so hot this late in the year?
