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I needed to maintain a 3.5 GPA if I was going to remain eligible for my scholarship. Lakers House was a distraction I didn’t need. So now, I had the best of both worlds—a place to party on the weekend and a quiet room to retreat to when I needed to get my head down and study.
“As I’ll ever be. You?”
“Fuck yeah. This is our season. I can feel it.”
“I hope you’re right.” Because I came to Lakeshore U to win. To chase dreams of winning the Frozen Four and being drafted to a pro team.
I’d turned my back on the only family I had for this chance, and I needed it to pay off.
More than ever.
But it all hinged on maintaining my fucking GPA.
“You ready to hit the ice Monday? Dumfries is going to run a tight ship this season.”
“Aiden can go fuck himself.” I grinned, joking.
“Still sore over the fact he went and fell ass-over-elbow for Dayna?” Mase asked, and I nodded.
“You telling me you’re not?”
His shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “It is what it is. So long as she doesn’t affect his performance on the ice and his decisions as captain, it’s all good. Besides, I like her. She’s good for him.”
“Yeah.” He had a point, but still, it didn’t stop me from feeling a sense of betrayal.
Last year, Aiden was my idol. His focus and dedication to the game; the way he didn’t let life interfere on the ice. Sure, he had a temper that got the better of him sometimes, but hockey was his life. It was in his fucking DNA.
Until this summer, apparently, and a certain brown-eyed beauty from Dupont Beach.
So I was still a little sore about it. Losing Connor to Ella at the beginning of last season was bad enough but losing our captain to love… Well, it fucking sucked.
“What are you thinking?” Mase shoulder-checked me as Lakers House came into view.
“That we can’t afford any more surprises this season.”
“Love isn’t catching, you know,” he chuckled. “It’s not going to sweep through the team like that time we all had food poisoning from that food truck in Kalamazoo.”
“I know that,” I murmured, unease sliding down my spine.
Because although I knew he was right, something about this season already felt different.
And that put me on edge.
I hung out at Lakers House a few hours before heading home. If I was being honest with myself—and I really didn’t want to be—I was avoiding going back. After my verbal spar with Aurora this morning and how she’d iced me out without so much as a second thought, I really didn’t want to be around her.
I preferred to lick my wounds in privacy.
But of course, the universe fucking hated me, and the second I entered the house and headed into the kitchen for a snack—because I was a growing boy—she was there. Summoned out of thin air to make my life miserable.
“It’s you,” she practically spat the words.
“I do live here, you know.” I cocked a brow, watching as she cleaned off the counter. “What smells good?”
“I made cookies.”
“You made cookies,” I murmured.
“Is that a problem?”
