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

Twenty bucks means nothing compared to the pure triumph I’m feeling right now. I swear, I thought I was gonna lose that pizza twice. For one, I hate the crust. It’s usually tough and a little crunchy—gimme soft, cheese-covered dough any day. Second, I have never finished a slice that big in four bites before, but no way in hell was I gonna let Asher get the better of me.

Pocketing the bill with a victorious smirk, I wiggle my eyebrows at Asher, who tries to be all giving me the evils, but he can’t do it. He ends up laughing and shaking his head before sharing a look with Ethan that I don’t understand.

I glance over my shoulder when I feel Ethan tense beneath me, but he just puts on a smile and rubs my back before pulling me against him and kissing my cheek again.

Turning my face, I steal a quick taste of his lips, which in retrospect was probably a bad idea, because now my entire body wants him, and it’s not like I can give in to my animal instincts when his dad is sitting right across the table from me.

He seems like a cool guy. Reminds me a little of my dad, actually, which burns in ways I don’t want to analyze. I shove the thought aside and focus on the noises around me. The stories from the ice, the reliving of the game and how in sync everyone felt. I listen to Mr. Galloway’s feedback, impressed by his observations and the way he’s so encouraging of every player. They seem to really love and admire him.

Ethan’s a lucky guy.

I want in on this thing.

This entire thing.

I want to hang out here all the time. I want to be friends with these lovable, funny, loud hockey players. I want to listen to Ethan’s dad tell me stories about when Ethan was a kid.

And the thought that I still haven’t figured a way out of this initiation yet kills me.

Don’t think about it. Be in the now. Enjoy your night.

Glancing over my shoulder again, I drink in Ethan’s gorgeous face. The way he throws his head back with laughter, his hand resting on my hip while he talks to Casey. It all feels so easy and natural, sitting on his knee this way, pretending like I’m his girl.

I want to stay.

The thought of going back to the sorority house is like a bucket of ice on my head, so when there’s a lull and the guys break away to different parts of the living area, I lean back against Ethan and guide his ear down to my lips.

“I’m having so much fun.”

I feel his cheek rise with a grin. “Me too.”

“I want to stay. Can I spend the night here?”

“Uh…” He tenses beneath me again, and that instant reaction is enough to kill my happy buzz in a heartbeat. I jump off his knee before he can stop me, creating a little distance between us with a few quick steps around the table.

He reaches out to grab my wrist, but I pull my hand back, forcing a smile in case anyone’s watching.

Thankfully, they all seem distracted by an NHL game on the TV, and I can work through this humiliation without an attentive audience.

I can’t believe I read it wrong.

He doesn’t want me. I can tell by that awkward look on his face, that tight, almost cringing smile… that deep regret in his hazel eyes. He’s about to say something hideous like “I’m sorry if I led you on, but… we’re not a thing.”

You’re not worth sticking around for. You’re not worth fighting for.

The words ring in my head.

He doesn’t mind kissing me a little, but spending the night… sleeping with me… taking whatever the hell is going on between us to the next level?

Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

And why should it? I’m a little mouse who he hardly knows. I’m not a hottie—one of those big-boobed puck bunnies who flaunts her body with ease. I’m the girl who shoves a slice of pizza down her throat for a measly twenty bucks.

I don’t know why I’m upset, really. This is all for the best. I’m supposed to be publicly dumping his ass, not wanting to sleep with him or become his girlfriend or something.

We’ve just had some flirty fun, and Ethan’s made it clear that’s all he wants. It kind of solves my problem in some ways. I can just carry through with this bet and guarantee myself a place in the Sig Be house.

My chest feels like it’s crumpling in on itself—a piece of aluminum foil being crushed by an unforgiving fist.

I try to ignore the painful sensation as I shove my hand in my pocket and point my thumb over my shoulder. “Well, I’m gonna get going, then.”

“I thought you wanted to stay,” he croaks, rising from his chair.

I shuffle away from the table, walking backward as he slowly moves toward me. With a forced laugh that I was hoping would sound light and unaffected but actually sounds more like a dog bark, I shake my head. “I don’t think you want that.”

His expression buckles with this agonized frown, and I turn my back on it, gripping the doorframe and forcing myself to call into the room. “Thanks for a good night, guys. I’m out!”

I raise my hand and wave at them.

There’s a collective groan, a few complaints, one guy calls for me to stay… but it’s not Ethan.

He’s just standing there, staring at me with a look I don’t want to decipher.

“See ya.” I don’t know what my lips are doing right now. I’m ordering them to smile, but my facial muscles are so tight and rigid, I honestly can’t say if I’m grinning or grimacing.

“Mick, wait.”

I don’t.

I bolt for the door, trying to flee my embarrassment.

Why the hell did I have to ask?

Running down the front steps, I bump into Ethan’s dad, who’s walking back inside.

“Whoa.” He steadies my arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” My voice is so forced and fake anyone could see through it.

His thick eyebrows dip into a frown, and he glances past me, exchanging a concerned look with Ethan.

“See ya,” I squeak for the second time tonight and make a beeline for the sidewalk.

I don’t give a shit that it’s dark. I’m walking back to Greek Row, and Ethan is not going to stop me.

“Mikayla!” he calls again.

I pick up my pace, but so does he, and his long strides decimate the distance between us.

“Wait.” He gently grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop.

“It’s okay. I get it.” I shake him off me, spinning to get this over with. “You like me as a friend. I’m just one of the guys. It happens all the time. Don’t feel bad.”

He tips his head with a droll look. “I don’t kiss my guy friends. You’re not just one of the guys, believe me.”

“But I’m not your girl either, am I?” The words pop out before I can stop them, and I bite my lips together, wincing and regretting every syllable.

Especially when he doesn’t deny it.

He just stands there, his mouth opening and closing like he’s not sure what to say.

Well, he doesn’t have to say a damn thing.

Actions always speak louder than words anyway, and I can tell by the tension vibrating off him right now that I’ve said exactly what he’s too scared to. It’s sweet that he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings and all, but why the fuck did he kiss me in the first place?

Maybe he did like me at first but quickly realized I’m just friend material.

I should be used to this by now, but for some reason, Ethan’s rejection is the most brutal, the most painful.

Shit, I’m gonna cry.

I spin away from him, fighting the thickening in my throat and that horrible burning in my eyes.

“Mikayla, please, let’s just talk about⁠—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I rush out the words, raising my arm when I spot a car cruising past the house.

“What are you doing?” His voice takes on an urgent quality.

“Catching a ride.” I run toward the car when it slows to a stop, grateful when I recognize the girl behind the wheel. “Hey, Lisa, are you heading past Greek Row?”

“Sure. I can go that way.” She smiles at me, then spots Ethan over my shoulder. Her eyes light with pleasure.

“Hi.” She lets out this nervous laugh, tinkling her fingers at him.

My stomach clenches as I fight the urge to scratch her eyes out and run around the side of the car.

Ethan stands there, eyeing me with this disappointed look on his face. He wasn’t done talking, but tough shit. I was. I can’t hear another man tell me they don’t want me. Sure, they never say it so bluntly, but a girl knows.

I’ve put up with it enough times to read all the signs, and I can’t hear those awkward excuses come out of Ethan’s mouth.

I just can’t.