Collide: A Hockey Romance

SUMMERLUVIN STARTED FOLLOWING you.

Seeing the notification, I do what I never do; I follow her back. Social media isn’t something I spend a lot of time on, but my curiosity wins when I see her profile. Oddly enough, the entire hockey team is already following her.

summerluvin

aidencrawford: I see you’ve reconsidered your stance on following athletes.

summerluvin: Temporarily. But I have to say, I’m disappointed.

aidencrawford: And why’s that?

summerluvin: No nude cereal box ad. Unfollowing.

aidencrawford: I’ll do a private one just for you. Can’t afford to upset a fan.

summerluvin: pass.

aidencrawford: You have other suggestions?

summerluvin: You, clothed, not trying to distract me from my research.

aidencrawford: pass.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and climb the steps to the psychology building. The reason for my irritated mood is sitting in the lounge like a prince.

Is Donny Rai seriously Summer’s type? Preppy and Academic? Finding out she dated Donny was a huge shock. Kian was the one to tell me, because he knows everything about everyone at Dalton. Sometimes I think he runs our school’s gossip page.

“Rai.”

Donny turns in his chair, and his friends eye me as if the doors to the building had jock repellent that I managed to break through.

“What’s up? Need a tutor for English 101?”

I’ve never been the one to incite violence off the ice, but right now, nothing is as appealing as the idea of my fist driving into Donny’s jaw. Though, his uninspired insult misses the mark because I’m sure he’s aware of every student on the dean’s list, and I’m one of them.

“I’m good. You’re not my usual type for tutors.” I revel in the way his jaw clenches. “I want to talk about Summer.”

“Do you need my permission?”

“Apparently, I do because you seem to think you can control her. She’s been working hard on her paper, and I’d appreciate it if you cool your drop-ins. She’s stressed, and you’re not helping.”

“I’m just trying to give her some of my expertise.”

“She has plenty.”

He laughs. “You met her like what? Five minutes ago? I’ve known her for years, and she trusts my opinion. You should be glad I’m even willing to help her.”

Prick. “Look, I’m telling you how she’s feeling and that her project won’t be any better with you breathing down her neck.”

An air of tension settles between us until he steps back. “Fine. I want to see how this pans out anyway.”

I falter. “What does that mean?”

He releases a sardonic breath. “Give it up, Crawford. If she lets you hit, you’ll be on the curb faster than you can finish.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, does all the brain damage you’ve amassed make it hard to hear too?” My clenched teeth feel like they’ll turn to dust from the pressure. “Summer’s not going to sleep with you because you act like you care. That girl has spikes around her thicker than your head. I’d tell you not to waste your time, but you’re already doing that. So, I’ll be watching when you inevitably fail.” The air of arrogance that oozes out of every pore follows him out the door.

Later that evening, it’s closing time when I skate off the ice to head to the showers. My solo practice session went longer than intended, probably because I imagined Donny’s face as the puck.

Though we won our last game, it’s the worst we’ve ever played. And when I entered the arena, Kilner made sure to castrate me for the shitty performance.

When I twist off the faucet and pull a towel around my waist, light footsteps sound against the tiled floors. As I open the door, the faint smell of peaches hits my nose before I see her.

“Summer?”

She spins, long brown hair in waves down her back. Full lips part when her gaze drifts to my low-hanging towel. Then as if clearing her thoughts, the fire of anger lights her expression and she marches right up to me, almost walking into the stall before faltering. She crosses her arms to create some type of barrier between us, and I stifle a laugh.

“Trust me, you won’t be laughing when I’m done with you.”

I beam. “I hope not.”

She glares. “Care to explain why Donny just became a student aide on my paper?”

That jackass. I should have known that smirk was bad news. “I didn’t say anything like that to him.”

“You said plenty. Don’t try to pretend you didn’t go all macho man and screw everything up.”

“I was trying to help.”

“I never asked for your help!”

“You wouldn’t. You could be hanging off a damn cliff, and you still wouldn’t ask for help.”

“But you did it anyway? Maybe I didn’t do anything about Donny because I know how he is. He’s pissed about what you said, and now we’re stuck with him. Why couldn’t you leave it alone?”

“You were stressed,” I try again.

“And how does that affect you?”

“Because I ca—”

The creak of the door cuts me off before Kilner’s voice drifts through the locker room. “It’s the damn plumbing in my washroom. I need it fixed, Brent.”

“Fuck.” I pull a distracted Summer into the stall and close the door. My hand covers her mouth before she can make a sound. Judging by the way her eyes flare, she might bite me.

“You can’t be in here,” I whisper. Her brows scrunch, and her grip on my wrist tightens like she’s trying to break it. “I’ll remove my hand if you promise not to scream.”

She reluctantly nods, and I uncover her mouth, still caging her against the wall. She’s breathing hard, and I don’t mean to, but my eyes fall to her rising and falling chest that grazes my bare torso. A water droplet from my hair hits her collarbone, making her flinch when it slides down her skin, leaving a wet trail as it slips between the swell of breasts.

I’m caught in a fervent trance when a sharp pain in my abdomen forces me to jerk back.

Summer pulls away her assaulting finger, and if looks were tangible this one would be throwing me off a cliff. She meets my sheepish smile with an eye roll.

Being this close to her makes me hot. That isn’t ideal because I’m in a towel, and she’s pressed against me so perfectly, just one wrong move, and everything is going to get even more uncomfortable. I try to force the thoughts out of my head, but that’s impossible when she brings her lips between her teeth. I have to hold in a groan. I’m wrapped in a bubble of her, and I feel like I’m damn near suffocating. What the hell is happening?

The sink running and crumpling paper breaks my attention from her. “Crawford? You still here?” He must see my gear on the bench because he stops in front of the stall.

I clear my throat. “Just finishing up, Coach.”

“Well, hurry up. They’re locking up early tonight.”

“Got it.”

His footsteps retreat, and Summer’s head falls back on a sigh.

“And Crawford? Tell your girlfriend no shoes in the shower.”

Then the door closes.

“Oh my God! That is so embarrassing.” Summer’s cheeks flush pink. “You’re like a furnace!” She moves away, and wipes the water droplets off her arm and chest before swinging open the stall door. Puzzled, I pull on my sweats to go after her.

“That’s it?” I ask when she’s already down the hall. “You came all the way here for that?”

“Yeah, guess so.” The heavy doors bang closed behind her.

“WHEN A SKINNY fucker chirps, it is not a jab at your manhood!” Kilner grabs Dylan by the collar and shoves him with the strength of an enforcer. “Where the hell is your head at?”

In case you couldn’t tell, we lost. Bad.

Disappointment clogs the locker room air. When I faced-off against Brown University’s centerman, I managed to get the puck in our possession except poor communications and unfortunate timing muddied the play, and Sebastian fumbled my pass, causing a turnover. Brown’s counterattack from their forward left us scrambling to catch up. Our defensive coverage crumbled like a termite-infested foundation after that, and Brown capitalized on power plays and netted two goals.

“Crawford’s too busy making sure he looks pretty for his next photo shoot,” says Tyler Sampson.

The energy drink ad let Kian stay in school, but it meant getting ragged on for months. Especially since Slink renewed the ads and one of the juniors saw the poster at a store in Providence.

“Fuck off, Sampson,” sneers Dylan, who’s only trying to get on my good side because he got ejected for unsportsmanlike conduct.

“He’s just jealous you’re prettier than him,” whispers Kian.

I shrug him off and turn to Kilner. “We can win the quarter final. Today’s loss was a one-off.”

“One-off or not, we can’t afford to lose to Yale,” Sampson aims a sharp eye at me.

“That’s enough.” Coach steps forward. “Yale is tough, but with the right changes we can win.”

“What kind of changes?” Kian dares to ask.

“No more parties. No more drinking.” Coach glares at Dylan, who slumps on the bench. “No more girls.” A chorus of groans erupt from the guys, and I don’t even recognize when my own leaves me. Except everyone else does, because Coach eyes me suspiciously, and Eli snorts. “Those are my orders. Your captain will enforce them. Now, get the hell out of here.”

I’m fine with rules and great with discipline. Having self-control comes naturally, and I thrive on delayed gratification. Except where Summer Preston is concerned. After having her pressed against me in the shower, I’ve had a difficult time thinking about anything else. I even Googled serial killer tendencies because I’m sure smelling someone’s hair is a fucking weird thing to do. But hers is different. It’s soft and smells like sweet peaches.

I don’t even like peaches.

It’s bad, and I need my mind off her, but with Kilner’s new rules that isn’t happening anytime soon.

“The no more parties thing really has you upset, eh?” Dylan and Kian snicker as they pass me.

I flip them off and slip into my truck. Without a distraction, I have the foolish urge to see an angry girl tonight. I just have to find her first. Which proves to be a difficult task when she doesn’t answer my texts. Fortunately, Amara is in a helpful mood and tells me Summer’s at the library. It’s finding which one that’s the issue.

A thorough and exhausting search later, I spot long hair and a pale pink sweater in the quiet study area. The sound of the chair being pulled out drags Summer’s attention to me. She assesses the rain sprinkled across the shoulders of my gray hoodie. She brings her attention back to her work.

“Don’t you have a game?” she finally asks.

The reminder of the loss feels less painful when I’m with her. “It was earlier. I came here to study.”

She nails me with a skeptical look. “You never study in the library.”

“Needed a change of scenery.” I shrug. But she’s right. I prefer the chaotic nature of the house. Libraries were too quiet for me.

“So you came to the farthest library on campus?” she presses.

“Took me three tries.”

“For what?”

“To find this one.”

“The others didn’t have what you were looking for?”

I smile. “Not even close.”

She waits for more, but she isn’t going to get it. I’ve been doing a lot of things I don’t understand lately, so I’ve stopped trying to analyze them. “You can ask me anything you want. Show me all your data sets.”

She resumes typing, brushing her hair from her face. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have any more questions?”

“I do, but that’s for Wednesday.”

“Right, cause you can’t stray from your calendar even a little.”

“As someone whose head only has a puck running through it, I don’t expect you to understand,” she snipes.

“Trust me, I have a lot of things running through my head.”

“I’m sure the daily influx of nudes you get on a daily basis keeps you occupied.”

My attraction to her insults is mildly concerning. I’d talk to a therapist about it, but I’d rather not divulge that. I chuckle, and I can see her lip tip up before she looks away again.

“If you thought I’d shift around my schedule so you would be off the hook this week, I can’t. So, feel free to leave.”

“I’m good right here.”

She appears dubious. “Trying to get on my good side after sticking us with Donny?”

“Fingers crossed.” I notice a crumpled paper under her textbook. “What’s this?”

She tries to snatch back the flier. “Nothing.”

I hold it away from her reach. “Mental health initiative for athletes?” I glance at her. “You set up an event?”

“Kind of.” She shifts uncomfortably. “It was supposed to be once a semester, but the last one did terribly, so I’m scrapping it.”

“When was the last one?”

“December. Only the extra credit students were there. No athletes showed. Except for Tyler.”

That’s the one Coach was pissed at me for missing. It was Summer’s event. “You should do it.”

She laughs. “And get humiliated again? No thanks.”

“I’ll come, and I’ll tell everyone I know about it.” I’d be ignorant to not recognize the influence I have on campus. There’s a certain reputation that comes with being captain.

She gathers her hair and tucks it to one side. “No way. I don’t need you advertising my event and people thinking we’re something we’re not.”

My head tilts. “We can’t just be friends? I don’t have to be fucking you to go to your event.”

She frowns at my brashness. “We’re not either of those things.”

“Don’t change the subject. Are you doing it or not?”

She looks away. “No. It’s a lot of work.”

“Since when do you shy away from work? You took me on.”

“You annoyed me into taking you on.” She reaches for the paper again.

I don’t give it back. “You should do it. It’ll look really good for your application.” She bites her lip, mulling it over. “Come on, you know you want to.”

I almost think she’ll refuse again, but she sighs. “Fine. I’ll check with the department, but I can advertise it on my own. Thanks for the offer.”

Satisfied, I lean back in my chair. “Look at us, agreeing on something without bickering.”

“We did bicker.”

“That wasn’t bickering.”

“Yes, it was.”

“No—”

“We’re doing it right now!” She lets out an irritated breath, but I don’t miss the amused chuckle that accompanies it. Once again, she gathers her hair and moves it behind her shoulders. Instinctively, I remove the hair tie that’s been sitting on my wrist for way longer than it should have and hold it out.

“Here.”

She stares at my hand until recognition crosses her features. “That’s mine.”

“Good observation. Take it.”

“You kept my hair tie?”

Now that I think about it, it is kind of creepy. Who in their right mind holds a girl’s hair tie for weeks without having plans to use or return it? The look on her face tells me she might be thinking the same thing. “You said you like your hair up.”

“So you just, what, kept it on your wrist this whole time?”

“Turn around, Summer,” I order, evading the question.

Although she still looks unsure, she turns her back to me. Her peach scent clouds my senses as I gather her soft hair and twist the hair tie around, not too tight, so she doesn’t get a headache.

When I’m done, she touches it. “Not bad. You practice on a lot of girls?”

“Just you. But I am naturally good with my hands.”

She makes a face. “Are you incapable of having a normal conversation?”

“No, but I do like seeing you blush.”

“I do not blush,” she argues, blushing.

We study for two more hours. Well, she studies, and I pretend to. It’s way too hard to focus in the quiet of the library. When she finally closes her laptop, I want to rejoice, but she simply packs it into her bag and walks off. I catch up to her outside.

“What are you doing now?” I sound like a clingy toddler, but I can’t help myself.

She throws me an unreadable glance. “Going to my dorm.”

“Need company?”

She laughs, then seems to realize I’m not joking. “I have a quiz to submit, and I need to confirm with Dr. Toor about the test you’re doing on Wednesday.”

“We just spent two hours studying. Don’t you want to relax?”

“I spent two hours studying. You stared into space.” She walks faster as if she can’t wait to get away from me.

“Okay, but shouldn’t you take a break?”

“If I wanted a break, I would have taken a gap year.”

I laugh, but her expression tells me that’s not a joke. “It’s only eight. We should do something.”

“I am doing something. I’m going to my dorm.” She sighs when I don’t quit walking beside her. “Look, you obviously still feel guilty about the Donny thing, but I’m over it. You did something impulsive, and now we have to live with the consequences. It’s whatever.”

“Let me at least make it up to you. I’ll take you out for dinner. You have to eat, right?”

“Goodnight, Aiden,” she sings, leaving me in the quad.