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

The Forbidden Freshman: Chapter 4



I stayed like she told me to, but I didn’t take my eyes off her, and thank fuck for that.

As soon as that van slowed beside her, my muscles coiled. And yeah, there’s a certain sense of satisfaction in knowing I’m right—I’ve heard too many rumors to not believe that some of them are true—but the thought of even one of those assholes touching her has me breaking into a run.

“Baby, wait up,” I call, jogging up beside her and throwing my arm around her shoulders. The duffel bag bumps me in the stomach, but I ignore the buckle digging into me and pull her a little tighter to my side. Then I throw an icy glare in the direction of the van. My tone is anything but friendly as I seethe, “Hey, guys. What the fuck are you doing trying to pick up my girl?”

They all recognize me. I can tell by the way they jolt, the way their eyes round just a little.

They’re not calculating if they can overpower me, because they know if they touch me, every guy on my hockey team will make it their personal mission to rain down a fucking hailstorm on them. You don’t mess with the Nolan U Cougars. Anyone with half a brain knows that.

“We didn’t know she was your girl, man.” One of them laughs uneasily, and it looks like these douche nuggets might have a full brain between them, because moments later, the tires are squealing as they take off down the road.

“I hate you,” she mutters.

“Well, you’re fucking welcome,” I snap. I can’t help it. I’m still pissed at those assholes for approaching her. I’m raging that guys like that even exist.

With a soft sigh, she flicks my arm off her shoulders, her lips pursing to the side before she murmurs, “I mean, thank you… and I hate that I’m not bigger.”

Her soft voice seems to smother my anger, not to mention the vulnerable look in her eyes. I force myself to relax, to take a breath and find my center the way Coach always tells us to. He likes us fired up on the ice, but we have to be able to control it—switch it on and off like a light bulb.

The best fighter is never angry.” That’s his favorite quote by some guy called Lao Tzu. I repeat it in my head a couple times, trying to shake off how fucked-up my night has turned out to be.

The girl blinks and clears her throat, lifting her pointed little chin like she’s shaking off her vulnerability the way I’m trying to shake off my dark mood. The light above us casts a pale glow over her, and I take a second to study her petite features. Her straight nose has a smattering of freckles across it, her blue eyes piercing as she meets my stare with a challenging look that’s all bravado. How I see right through it, I’m not sure, but it helps me soften my voice.

“You’re welcome,” I try again, this time grinning down at her and throwing in a wink that has her lips twitching. “Lucky I didn’t listen to your bossy ass, right? That could have gone really badly for you. But never fear… I was here.”

She rolls her eyes, tipping her head back with a groan. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I said thank you already. What do you want, a parade?”

A barking laugh pops out of me, which seems to surprise us both. I snicker, shaking my head. This chick is something else. The whole grumpy-ass persona on such a shorty is… well, it’s adorable.

She tucks a clump of hair behind her ear, and I’m struck by what a wreck she looks. Not in a bad way, just in a who gives a shit kinda way. Most of the girls I associate with wouldn’t leave the house without serious preening. This one looks like she doesn’t believe in mirrors. Not that she needs to. Even with her messy hair, there’s something about her that has my gaze glued.

She wrinkles her nose at me, then huffs. “All right, fine. You can walk me to my dorm.”

“Thank you.” I nod, grateful for the distraction after such a shitty night.

Her blue gaze brushes over my face, resting on my lips for a moment before darting to the ground.

I’m used to this kind of perusal. I can tell she thinks I’m hot. Most girls do. The thing that’s refreshing is the fact that she’s not trying to paw me or flirt with me. If anything, she’s spent our entire interaction trying to repel me.

But it’s not working.

I don’t have a hero complex. I just can’t walk away from a woman wandering around by herself in the dark. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I amble along beside her, slowing my pace to match her shorter steps.

The idea of what those guys could have done to her if I hadn’t been here makes me want to punch a hole through the wall, or maybe straight through their bodies. Damn those fucking assholes. I hate that the world isn’t safe enough for people to just live in however they want to. Anyone should be able to walk anywhere at any time.

But it doesn’t work that way.

Shorty hitches the bag on her shoulder, and I figure we should at least introduce ourselves. She probably already knows who I am, but I’ve never seen her before, and I’d kind of like to know her name.

“So, my name’s⁠—”

“Nope.” She raises her hand. “I don’t want to know your name.”

I snicker. Is she for real? “Why not?”

“Because then if I see you around campus, you’ll expect me to be polite and say hi. I’m not interested in some faux friendship with a creeper who stalks innocent women at night.”

Is she serious right now?

A surprised laugh punches out of me, cutting through the still night air and covering up the flash of irritation that just spiked through my chest. “Oh, you mean the guy who saved you from a carload of sleazebags and is generously walking you to your dorm?”

“I never asked you to do that, big guy.”

“You know what, Shorty? I should just leave you right here.”

She pauses to give me a challenging smirk. “But you’re not going to do that, are you? Your conscience won’t allow it.”

I narrow my eyes at her pretty little face. Yeah, she’s pretty, but… “Jeez, you’re annoying.”

“Thank you.” She raises her chin, and another laugh pops out of me.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I only had two beers tonight. Why am I laughing so much?

This chick is a piece of work.

For one, she doesn’t seem to know who I am, which is kind of refreshing. And two, she’s not tripping over herself to make a good impression. If anything, she’s working overtime to make sure I never want to speak to her again.

“So, what’s your story, then?” She keeps walking. “Do you just prowl the campus at night, looking for lonely girls to rescue? Let me guess, you’re a vigilante, right? What’s your code name? The Jock? Tall Man? Captain Hero?”

I snort. “Those are the worst hero names ever. Have you even read a comic book before?”

“Hey, I happen to love Marvel and DC movies, okay?”

“And Captain Hero was the best you could come up with?”

“Gimme a break. I’m working on the fly here.” Her lips stretch into a grin, which she can’t quite catch in time.

The streetlamp gives me a taste of it, and I’m struck again by the fact that she’s pretty. Not knock-you-on-your-ass gorgeous, not cover model stunning, but a cute kind of pretty. What do they call it? The girl next door?

With her hair pulled back in a messy bun and those leggings paired with the Nolan U T-shirt, you can tell she’s not the type to spend hours getting ready before walking out the door.

I’m kinda digging this unpreened, sporty vibe she’s going with.

Damn, I wish she’d tell me her name.

“Do you live around here?” she asks. “What dorm are you in?”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “I thought you didn’t want to know anything about me.”

“Touché,” she mutters and hitches her bag up again.

“Here.” I take it off her.

“Hey.” She tries to snatch it back, but I hold it out of reach. “I can carry my own bag.”

“What the hell have you got in here?” I lift it up and down, trying to calculate the weight.

“That would be none of your business.”

“Let me guess, you’re one of those old-school chicks who feels like she needs to take half the library home, forgetting about this handy little thing called the Internet.”

“I’m not eighty! And give me back my bag.” She lunges for it, but I swing it out of the way again. “I don’t need you to carry it for me like some knight in shining armor. Talk about old-school!”

I sigh, refusing to give the bag back. “You really don’t want me to be a good guy, do you?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t want you to make me feel weak and like I can’t handle myself,” she retorts, then points to her right. “That’s my dorm. Now hand it over.”

I glance at the orange bricks of Hilton Hall before eyeing her up.

My tone drops to a quiet hum. “You’re more than capable. I can instantly tell that about you. And accepting help doesn’t make you weak.” I hand back the bag while she blinks up at me, her bow-shaped lips parting.

For a second, I imagine kissing them, but that only makes my dick twitch, and I’m suddenly reminded of the stupid bet and how I’m out of action for the next month.

It’s probably a good thing this chick has been so prickly tonight. I can’t go pursuing anything with anyone right now.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I take a step away from her and figure I’ll bring us back to where we were when we started. “Well, I would say it’s been nice meeting you, Shorty, but you’re rude and you wouldn’t throw me a parade for being your personal hero, so… as entertaining as this has been, I look forward to never seeing you again.” I wink, unable to hide my grin.

She fights a laugh, clamping her lips together and nodding. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Her playful blue gaze captures me, and I’m locked in place by it for one, two, three seconds before my brain reminds me that I cannot engage with this girl.

She’s off-limits. Every girl on campus is off-limits if I have any hope of surviving the next month.

With a nod, I take another step back. “Take care, Shorty.”

Spinning away from her, I head back to Hockey House.

No point lingering out here. She’s safely at her dorm, and I can’t avoid the inevitable. It’s time to go home and face the heat and hassles from my buddies before tackling this month-long torture.

Thank God hockey is starting up soon. I can throw all my energy into it. If I work my ass off, I might just get through the next four weeks without exploding.


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