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

I’m homeless.

It’s that simple, really.

I just walked out of the sorority house, and now I have nowhere to go. Sure, I had a dorm room in my first week at this school, but then some genius decided that painting her nails by candlelight sounded romantic and didn’t take into consideration the uneven surface of the pillow she had it perched on. She then thought dousing it with her nail polish remover would put the damn thing out.

Needless to say, she’s not a science major, and she’s lucky to be alive. Thankfully, everyone made it out safely, but not before most of us lost a bunch of stuff and were left without a place to stay. Which is why Greek Row had to open their doors, along with several houses surrounding the Nolan U campus.

I cross my arms, looking up at the night sky and finding little solace in the few stars I can see scattered among the clouds. The streetlamps emanate a lackluster glow that casts a pale light over the path I’m now walking.

This is just… fucking perfect, isn’t it? I’m wandering the campus streets, alone, in the dark, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with myself.

I guess I could go to a motel, but the thought of wasting what precious money I do have for the “luxury” of a lumpy bed in a half-star room is too painful to consider.

You could just go back and say you’re sorry.

“I could… or I could eat thumbtacks soaked in arsenic!” I answer myself out loud, because it’s not like anyone’s around to point fingers at the weird girl with the duffel bag who’s talking to herself, right?

I just need to find somewhere to shelter for the night.

“Stupid sorority with its stupid rules and stupid freaking President Aimee.” My anger is black and viscous, running through my veins as I storm down the street.

I’m pissed at my mother, and Jarrod, for putting me in this position. Ever since those two got engaged, they’ve been impossible.

Nolan U wasn’t even my first-choice school!

My stomach knots as I think about all those delicious plans I’d come up with last year. My best friend, Rachel, and I sat there dreaming about what we’d do after graduation, and so far… none of it has come true.

Now I’m stuck in Colorado in this piddly university town with these piddly people and… Okay, fine, the education here is pretty good. Nolan U is considered an elite college. It certainly charges like an elite college, and I get why.

The facilities are top-of-the-line. I’m loving my classes, and all of my teachers and professors are great.

But I’m still pissed that Mom and her fiancé forced me here.

Dad never would have let this happen.

The thought is a cold lump in my chest. I growl, irritated with myself for even going there.

“Pull it together, Mikayla!” I bark, picking up my pace and storming down the street so fast, I don’t even see the wall of muscle appear until I’m literally crashing into it.

“Whoa.” Large hands catch me around the waist, steadying my feet before letting go.

I take a step back, my eyes traveling up his solid body before reaching his face, which seems just as chiseled as the rest of him. I mean, I can’t see his chest or anything, but his T-shirt is fitted enough to give me a good idea of what lies beneath that white cotton, and my mouth is already pooling with water.

I frown, not liking the effect this stranger is having on me. I’m trying to be in a bad mood right now, not attracted to some college jock! He’s got to be a jock, right? Tall, broad, with dark hair sneaking out beneath his backward baseball cap and a small scar on his square-cut chin.

I wonder what sport he plays.

No you don’t!

I frown, so not needing these flutters in my belly or this rush of something hot and primal flooding my body.

With an irritated tut, I go to move around him, but he shifts and scowls down at me like I’ve done something wrong. “What are you doing walking around alone at night?”

I give him a pointed glare, wishing he was shorter so I could look him in the eye properly. The guy is a walking Empire State Building, and I feel like a country cottage next to him.

It irritates me, so I bite back with the only weapon I have—a snappy tone. “That would be none of your business.”

He scoffs and looks around him. “Do you have any idea how many creepers lurk around campus at this time of night?”

“What, you mean like you?”

He gives me a dry glare. “Some drunk idiot could pick you up like that, Shorty.” He snaps his fingers. “Any chick with half a brain knows not to take stupid risks like this. Aren’t you girls always supposed to travel in packs? I thought that was Common Sense 101.”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

Packs? What does he think I am, a wolf?

More like a meerkat.

I huff. “Great, so now I’m stupid and short. Well, aren’t you just pleasant.” I slap his arm, which feels like a perfectly shaped piece of marble, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t touched him.

The tips of my fingers tingle as I skirt around him, trying to pick up my pace.

“Hey. Where are you going?”

“Like I’d tell you,” I shoot over my shoulder.

“I can walk you. Make sure you get there safely.”

I tip my head up to the sky with a scoffing laugh. “Seriously? Dude. I can see you have a blatant hero complex going on, and that’s great for you. But I am very capable of looking after myself.” I turn to give him my best pointed look. Hopefully the streetlamp above me can highlight how much I mean this. “I don’t need you walking me anywhere. I’m a big girl.”

“Well…” He tips his head, pulling a face that would have made me laugh if I wasn’t having such a shitty night.

I’ve been hassled about my height most of my life, and early on, my dad taught me to run with it. “You’re always gonna be short, kiddo. Just own it.”

I try to give this hot jock a droll look, because I’m really not in the mood to be charmed. I even flip him the bird for good measure, but that just makes him laugh.

Holy Moses, his smile is beautiful—broad and wide with straight, white Colgate teeth and the kind of impact that probably makes most girls weak at the knees.

Dammit. I don’t want to be most girls.

I spin and start walking away, hoping to escape this tingling sensation which is quickly spreading and making my lady parts sing like freaking sirens. I refuse to be bested by some guy. I’m not the type to swoon or bat my eyelashes. It’s not my mission to score a boyfriend so that my life will be complete. I am perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much!

Glancing over my shoulder, I jerk to a stop and spin yet again. “Are you kidding me?”

He slows his pace, shoving his hands in his pockets but not changing his trajectory.

“Stop following me, you creeper!”

“I’m not.” His lips twitch. “I happen to be going this way too.”

“I call bullshit.”

He sighs. “Fine. I just want to make sure you get to wherever you’re going safely.”

I roll my eyes with a groan, hating how much I like that sweet sentiment. But like hell I’m giving in to it. I am a strong, independent woman, and I don’t need some nighttime protection detail.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” I tell him. “Now stay.” I point at him, narrowing my eyes in an attempt to combat the fluttering in my stomach.

Why does he have to be so freaking hot?

Why does the thought of some random stranger caring enough to walk me safely to… anywhere… feel so damn good?

I don’t want to feel that way.

I can’t afford to.

With a sharp frown, I point at him one more time, then spin on my heel, determined not to look back or interact with this guy for another second.

I’m on a mission to find someplace to sleep tonight, and I don’t need him hounding me. Or judging me for storming out of a sorority house like a hissy-fitting toddler.

Okay, so maybe I haven’t put much thought into my choices tonight.

But come on. How can I do what Aimee is asking of me? How can I possibly get some stupid playboy to fall in love with me? This Ethan Galloway dude who I’m then supposed to publicly humiliate.

I’m so not about that.

Bullies suck. I don’t want to become one, even if Aimee does think this Ethan guy deserves it.

I will not⁠—

“Hey, sweetness.”

I jerk to the right when a van slows to a stop beside me. It’s mustard yellow with covered-up windows in the back, and from the leering looks these guys are throwing me, there should seriously be a predator alert label plastered to the side of that thing.

“Where you goin’, honey?”

The voices calling out the window make my skin prickle… and not in a good way. This is no lust-fueled tingle—it’s a run like hell warning.

And I accused the jock of being a creeper.

This can’t be happening. Of all the nights to make a stand and tell Mr. Empire State Building I didn’t need him. Of course I have to be approached by a van full of perverts.

My stomach hitches as I realize my little legs will never be able to carry me fast enough. Even if I break into a run, these two guys—no, wait, there are three of them—could jump out and grab me, haul me into their van, and do who knows what to me. I may fight like an alley cat, but three against one?

Shit. I can’t believe I’m failing Common Sense 101.

I can’t believe I’m gonna have to turn around, yet again, and hope to God Mr. Empire State Building didn’t take me at my word.