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“What?” I barked at Connor as we made our way back to our table.
“I have one question.” He studied me. “Did he deserve it?”
“What do you think?” I shot back.
“Thought so. Next time, aim for his nose. Asshole could do with some facial realignment.” Connor snorted, and I glanced back at Adams, hardly surprised to see the puck bunny all over him.
There was something about men in pain that activated a woman’s caregiver instincts. I’d probably done him a favor and sealed the deal between them. But she was welcome to him. Abel Adams was a disrespectful asshole, and quite frankly, he didn’t deserve to wear a Lakers jersey. But he was an asset on the ice, even if most of us only tolerated him at best.
“Do I even want to know?” Austin asked.
“Let’s just say we had a disagreement.”
“Asshole probably deserved it,” Leon muttered.
I flexed my hand, wincing at the tender spot across my knuckles. I wasn’t a particularly violent guy off the ice. But the second the words were out of his mouth, I saw red.
“He better stay the fuck out of my way this season,” I mumbled, grabbing a menu to distract myself.
Because all I could think about was ducking out of the bar and going back to the house.
To find Aurora.
CHAPTER 13
AURORA
Turned out Noah wasn’t only a boob guy—he was an ass guy too.
After the yoga pants incident, I managed to avoid him for the rest of the weekend. He’d kissed me, and then he’d realized it was a mistake.
Story of my life.
I let out a small, defeated sigh. Noah Holden didn’t like me—he liked the idea of me.
Number one: I was Austin’s sister, which made me off-limits, and guys loved that. The thrill of the chase, especially something forbidden. Two: I was clearly out of my depth in their college-hockey world, which kicked in his protective instincts because, despite his reputation, Noah was a good guy. And three: I wasn’t knocked on my ass by his charm and good looks.
Well, mostly.
The truth was Noah did affect me. More than I cared to admit. But it was a moot point. We’d agreed to be friends. Now that the semester had started, and with it hockey season, I expected our fledgling friendship would fizzle out soon enough.
It was probably a good thing though. I wasn’t cut out to be a Lakers girl—or anyone’s girl, for that matter. No, I came to Lakeshore U for a fresh start. Getting tangled up with a guy—a hockey player, no less—was a bad idea.
The worst.
Thankfully, I had classes to keep me occupied now. The English program at Lakeshore U wasn’t as renowned as the program at Fitton U, but I was still looking forward to spending my days immersed in literature and creative writing.
“Austin, I’m ready,” I said as I hurried down the stairs.
“You look… nice.” A frown crinkled his eyes.
“This just so happens to be my lucky sweater,” I lied, aware that the oversized sweater hung off my frame like a burlap sack. But I didn’t want to spend my first day of classes obsessing over my appearance. So after showering, I reached for my favorite sweater. It swamped me, but there was something comforting about that.
“You’re okay, right?”
“I’m fine.” I smiled. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” he grumbled, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “My class schedule is on another level this year. I hope I can hold it all together.”
