The Forbidden Freshman: A College Sports Romance (Nolan U Hockey Book 1)

Shit! I can’t believe I just said that.

Why did I open that crazy-ass can of worms around this guy?

He’s going to want to know more, and I’d rather choke on this muffin than dissect my weird-ass family situation. I said they, which he’s probably interpreting as my mother and father, when it’s actually my mother and her dick fiancé. Having to explain that just might kill me.

Change the subject. Quick!

“So, where do your family live?” I swivel to face him, but all I see is a marked frown.

“Did your parents really say you had to go here because they’re paying? You didn’t get any choice in where you wanted to study? That’s messed-up.”

My nostrils flare, and I press on with my very unsubtle avoidance tactic. “Are you a Colorado boy, or…?”

He stares at me for a long beat that’s thick with tension. But I don’t budge, and eventually he sighs and slumps back in his chair. “I’m from Denver.”

My shoulders drop with a relieved sigh, and I nestle back in my seat, bringing my coffee with me so I can nurse the cup in my hands. “That’s cool. Easy for visiting, right?”

“Yeah.” He nods, draining his cup. “My dad will drive up for games. It’s pretty cool.”

“What about your mom? Does she not like hockey?” The second the questions are out of my mouth, I regret them.

His expression tightens around the edges, his mouth dipping as he softly murmurs, “She loved it. She was the one who bought me my first pair of skates. Her dad used to play. He never went pro but had some fun playing college hockey until he busted his knee in a game and had to change course.”

“Wow. They must be real proud that you’re playing now.”

“Uh-huh.” He nods, and my mouth goes dry because something’s off. I’ve said something to upset him, and crap! I hate it when things get emotional.

I’m scrambling for something funny to say, anything to lighten this moment, but then he sighs. “Truth is…” He glances at me, like he’s weighing up whether or not I can handle what he’s about to tell me.

I can’t. I nearly say it out loud. I don’t like sad stuff or anything that will make me cry, so just tell me some cheesy joke. It can even be a crass one. Just don’t⁠—

“My mother passed away a few years ago. She never got to see me play college hockey, and it kinda kills me. She would have loved it.”

A fist of emotion jams up my throat, making it impossible to speak.

“Grandpa makes it to the games he can, but he’s getting kind of frail now. He had a stroke after Mom passed.” He shakes his head. “Shittiest year of my life. Nearly missed out on graduating from high school. I had to study like a demon over the summer, and they gave me special compensation, but I had to work my ass off senior year to get my grades up. I wanted Nolan U, because it’s got one of the strongest hockey programs in the country and it’s close to home, so I’m around if Dad needs me.” Easing back into his chair with a sigh, he stares at his empty coffee mug for a second before looking back at me with a smile. “I like to think Mom watches me play. I don’t know if she can, but… the thought makes me feel better anyway.”

“She can.” I bob my head, wanting to believe that. I don’t actually know what happens to people after they pass, but I like the heaven theory. It sits well with me, the idea that there doesn’t have to be an end, that those we love can still watch over us from afar.

Ethan’s smile stretches across his face, and I’m caught by the beauty of it, softened by the knowledge that we both know what it’s like to be raised by a single parent. My dad may not be dead, but I lost him. I understand this pain, and it makes me want to reach out and grab Ethan’s hand.

My skin tingles with the idea of touching him, but I resist the urge and instead whisper, “I’m sorry you lost her.”

“Thanks.” Ethan’s smile turns sad as he shuffles in his seat, and then Train Awkward pulls into the station.

I clear my throat, setting my coffee down and glancing across the shop to see Teah and Bella at the table by the window. Bella’s looking over Teah’s shoulder, obviously checking out how my coffee date is going.

Are they shitting me? They followed us in here?

Ugh!

When I saw them out the window, that was irritating enough, but I was too caught up listening to Ethan to notice them enter the coffee shop, and now my tingles have turned to prickles of irritation.

This is a nightmare. How am I supposed to be myself when they’re monitoring me this way?

You’re not supposed to be yourself. You’re supposed to be the girl who can woo guys like Ethan Galloway.

Crappity-crap!

Fisting my hands, I force myself to take a breath, then angle my body so I’m even closer to him. With my breath on hold, I stare at his hand, lightly resting on his knee, then run my finger between his knuckles.

He stiffens and I nearly draw my hand away, but I’ve got a mission to accomplish here, so I force my finger to start tracing the bones of his long fingers.

“So… now that you’ve had a coffee date with a mouse… do you think you’d be up for a meal sometime?”

His eyebrows dip while his eyes dart from my finger to my face, to my mouth, then down to the floor.

“Uh…” He lets out an awkward chuckle and pulls his hand away. “You trying to score more free food off me?”

“Why else would I ask you out?” I wink at him.

His smile flashes with genuine amusement before he sits forward in his chair like he’s ready to get up and go.

“Maybe.” He nods. “Things are kind of busy for me right now, and hockey is gonna be heating up real soon, so I’ll…” He winces, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “I’ll check my schedule and let you know.”

And ouch.

I glance at the girls by the window, relieved they’re too far away to hear what he just said or feel the icy burn of his rejection.

I told them I wasn’t up for this. Didn’t I make it blatantly clear that guys like Ethan don’t fall for girls like me?

My insides flame as I stand, snatching my bag and hiking it up onto my shoulder. “Well, thanks for the freebie. We’re all square now, so I won’t bother you again.”

His expression buckles. I turn my back on it, making a beeline for the door. I’m already outside when he catches up to me. He falls into stride beside me, and I turn to him with an irritated scowl. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your next class. I’m assuming you’ve got more than one class today.”

I jerk to a stop. “I don’t need you to walk me to class.”

He turns to face me, smiling like he didn’t just totally turn me down in the coffee shop.

Frustration courses through me, a nice healthy dose that will hopefully be strong enough to kill off the embarrassment I’m wrestling with.

“I’ve already told you, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“Are you sure, lil’ mouse?”

A hard laugh comes out of me, brittle and spiky. “You are such an ass.”

“Perfect. An ass and a mouse. Isn’t there some fable about that?”

“It’s a mouse and an elephant, you idiot. And if you don’t want to hang out with me, why the fuck do you want to walk me to class?”

He sighs, his large shoulders slumping forward as he scuffs the concrete with his sneaker. “It’s not that I don’t want to hang out. It’s just⁠—”

“Forget it.” I cut him off before this all becomes too feely and I give away how much his rejection is like a punch to the gut. “We’re good. I got my coffee, and I don’t need anything else from you.”

His eyebrows dip into a sharp V.

“Chin up, big guy. This campus is crawling with girls who are probably more your style. Go ask one of them if you can be their personal protection detail.” Forcing a bright smile, I start backing away from him. “Have a good day.”

And then I flip him off, because I can’t help myself.

He snickers and raises his middle finger right back at me.

It makes me laugh, dammit. Why does he have to be so fucking funny?

Spinning away, I storm off, trying to focus on the fact that he doesn’t want to have dinner with me. He obviously doesn’t mind my company as a friend or something.

What else is new?

A girl like me is always shoved into the friend zone because that’s just who I am. No amount of lip gloss or hoop earrings is going to hide that.

With a growl, I untie the knot in my T-shirt and try to yank out the wrinkles. It doesn’t work, and now I have to walk around campus with a mangled shirt. Perfect, it can match the scrunched-up feeling in my chest.

Dammit, I hate this so much.

Anger at Mom and Jarrod rears hot and fast. Damn them for putting me in this stupid position, and damn Aimee for giving me this impossible initiation task!