Play the Game: A New Adult Hockey Romance (Golden Boys Hockey Book 1)

by Emma Tharp

  "Do you know how fast you were going?"

  "No. I'm sorry, I don't."

  He shakes his head and stabs his thumb into his belt loop. "Eighteen miles over the speed limit. And you ran a red light."

  Wow, I thought I was going faster than that.

  As much as I'd like to tell him to hurry the fuck up and write me the damn ticket so I can get the hell out of here, I know an attitude won’t get me very far. "Sorry. I’m late for a meeting with my coach."

  "Who’s your coach?"

  "Coach Cohen. I play hockey for Boston College."

  Please let this man be a fan. Maybe he’ll have sympathy on me and not write me a ticket.

  The guy narrows his eyes and scrunches his face up like he just ate something sour. "I never got into hockey."

  With that, he goes back to his car to write me a ticket.

  Of course, he doesn’t like hockey.

  What feels like ten full minutes pass before he saunters back to my car and hands me not one, but two tickets. One for running a red light and the other for speeding. At least he didn’t catch me passing the old guy. I'm still screwed.

  "Watch your speed. And you should leave earlier for your meetings. Have a great day." The asshole swats the hood of my car twice before walking away.

  When he isn’t looking, I flip him off and signal to get back on the road.

  I pull into the lot, twenty minutes late for my meeting with coach. My heart beats out of my chest as I sprint into the rink and back toward his office.

  He’s sitting at his desk, looking cool and collected, as I enter, panting and sweating.

  "You're late."

  "Yes. I apologize. I lost track of time and ended up getting pulled over on my way here."

  Coach points to the chair opposite his desk. "Have a seat. You know how I feel about tardiness."

  It's a good thing he told me to sit down because just as I fall into the chair, I'm overwhelmed by lightheadedness.

  "Sorry, Coach. I'll never be late for anything, ever again."

  It's a promise I'm going to work my ass off to keep. I need to get my shit together.

  Coach leans in on his forearms and stares directly into my eyes, causing my pulse to race faster. "Good. I'm going to hold you to that. You tell someone you’re going to meet them at a certain time, you show up early. Never late."

  "Right. I'm sorry."

  He picks up a blue Sharpie off the desk and taps it three times against his palm. "Good. Stop apologizing. The reason I wanted to talk to you today was because I need you to switch positions."

  "Okay."

  "You are an excellent left-winger, but for at least the next couple of weeks, do you think you could handle playing forward?"

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my joggers. "Yes. I've played forward before."

  "Good. I knew you'd be up for the challenge. Levins broke his wrist. I'll need you to replace him."

  What Coach is asking me is an honor. He believes in me enough to put me in the middle during plays. For the first time since I got his text message asking me where I was when I was with Stella, I can finally breathe.

  "I'll play anywhere you need me to. Except I'm not sure I'd be a very good goalie."

  Coach barks out a laugh and leans back in his chair. "No. That's why we carry a couple of goalies. Thank you for stopping by."

  I move to stand and reach my hand out to shake Coach’s. "Thanks for having confidence in me, sir. Again, I'm so sorry for being late."

  He releases my hand and points at me. "You're a great player, Gavin. Keep your head in the game and you’ll go far."

  "Thank you," I say before walking out of his office.

  Relief loosens the corded muscles of my neck as I make my way to the car. Coach wasn't happy I was late, but he forgave me, and still asked me to cover for Levins. It's truly an honor he has that much faith in me. Stella is going to be so proud.

  As soon as I'm in my car, I dial Stella's number. She doesn't answer, so I pocket my phone and drive back home.

  Hopefully she’s still there so I can explain to her why I made such a hasty exit. Now that I have my meeting with Coach out of the way, I can devote the rest of my day to her.

  Back at the hockey house, I rush to my room, but it's empty. There isn't even a note from Stella. I check my phone again and she hasn't called or left me a text. Maybe she went to the sorority house.

  Disappointment fills me when I drive there and find she’s not there. None of her sorority sisters seem to know where she is either.

  I dial her number again, but there's still no answer.

  Where could she be?

  My mind races with the possibilities, but I’m coming up empty.

  Driving around campus, I look for her car for half an hour. It finally occurs to me where she might be. I go to the opposite end of campus and pull into a parking spot in front of the science building. I kill the engine, slam the door closed, and jog into the building. I take the steps two at a time and when I get to the door, I let out a deep sigh of relief.

  "You're here," I say, almost breathless.

  She's standing at the lab table with a pen in her hand, but she doesn't seem to be writing anything.

  "I’m sorry I ran out and didn’t explain why. I was late for a meeting with Coach Cohen and I knew he’d have my balls if I didn’t hurry up and get there.”

  She stays silent.

  “I've been looking everywhere for you." I walk up to her and almost pull her into my arms, but the blank expression on her face and red-rimmed eyes have me stopping short.

  "Hi," she says weakly.

  "Is everything okay?"

  "I got lost." Her voice is barely a whisper.

  I lean in closer. "You seem to know your way around the science building just fine."

  The distress on her face breaks me.

  "Not out here. In here.” She points to her head. “I let my parents’ words get to me."

  Drawing her in close, I squeeze her to me. "Well, I'm glad I found you."

  When she pulls back, her eyes are watery. "Me too."

  "Stella, I don't want to do lab work right now. Can we please pick up where we left off and I'll explain everything?"

  "You took off on me."

  I nod solemnly. "I know. And I am so sorry for that. Let’s get out of here, please. I will make it up to you."

  Her shoulders sag, and she stares down at her hands, silent for a moment before her pale green eyes lock with mine. “Take me home.”

  I do just that. Once we’re back at the sorority house, we snuggle up on her bed, and I hold her in my arms. “I was such a loser this morning. Coach Cohen wanted to see me and I panicked when I realized I was late.”

  I fill her in on the meeting and how proud I am that Coach has confidence in me.

  “Don’t do that to me ever again. Okay? If you need to rush out, just tell me where you’re going and that you’re okay. I was worried and it was awful.”

  She stares at me intently. I’m sick knowing I upset her.

  “I’m so sorry, Stella. I never meant to hurt you, or to make you think your parents were right about me.” I let out a mirthless laugh. “Sometimes I wish I could be a carefree college kid, with my biggest concern being which party to go to or what kind of keg to buy. But that isn’t my reality. Hockey is why I’m here, and I can’t do anything to mess it up. When I saw the text on my phone from Coach asking where I was, I almost lost it. I can’t be careless when it comes to my commitments to the team.”

  “I understand, Gavin. Your dedication to hockey is one of the things I love about you. I only ask that you communicate with me. That’s all.”

  Her words hit me hard. She isn’t asking for much. I want this to work between us. It’s important that I do better. And she loves me. Is this really my life? I’ve never been in love like this before.

  “I promise to try harder.”

  “Good.”

  “Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask before I even have
a chance to think.

  She laughs. “I thought I already was.”

  I wrap my arms around her and her sweet summer scent fills my lungs. “Perfect. Want to go on a date with me tonight?”

  “I’d love to, but I have to study for a couple of hours. You can stay here if you’d like, but I want to get a good grade on my history test.”

  “No. I should do some work too. I’m going to head back to the hockey house, but I’ll pick you up tonight.”

  “Okay. As much as I don’t want you to go, it’s best that you do so I can get some work done.”

  She’s right. The longer I’m here, the less she’s going to get done. As much as I’d like to kiss every inch of her naked body, it’d be best if I leave. Instead, I press my lips to hers one last time.

  When I leave the sorority house, I get in my car and my phone alerts me to a new email. I set up notifications so I never miss anything important, especially from Coach Cohen.

  I open the message and my heart sinks in my chest. It’s from the dean.

  Mr. Hunt,

  This email is strictly confidential. I need to see you in my office at four p.m. today. It’s urgent.

  Dean Chambers

  According to my watch, it’s three thirty. I’m going to have to get back to campus ASAP.

  I’m sweating as I start my engine. This can’t be good. I wonder what he wants.

  Stella told me her dad doesn’t want her seeing me. The way he was shooting daggers at me with his eyes at the pancake breakfast was proof the guy doesn’t care for me.

  No. This can’t be good at all.

  I’d like to speed, but I can’t get two tickets in one day, so I abide by all the traffic laws on the way back to campus. Thankfully, I make it there in plenty of time without getting pulled over.

  Outside the dean’s office, I pound the door three times and wait.

  “Come in,” he shouts in a sharp, gruff tone that sets me on edge worse than I was seconds ago.

  I scuff into his office and stand twenty feet from his desk. My heart pounds so heavy, you’d think the ref just blew the whistle to start a game.

  “Hello, sir.”

  The dean’s eyes narrow into slits and the revulsion on his face makes me feel dirty, like I need a shower. “I asked you here today because you’re…” He licks his teeth as if he’s trying to rid them of a stray piece of food he can’t seem to get rid of. “Seeing my daughter.”

  Shit. What do I say to that? It’s true, but I don’t know how much Stella has told her family about me and it’s up to her. I stand stock-still and don’t say a word.

  He shifts in his chair and glances around the room as if to make sure nobody else is in earshot. “This conversation is to remain confidential.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to need you to stop seeing Stella.”

  I flinch back, recoiling from his words. “What? Why?”

  “You and I both know you’re no good for her. I’m doing this to help her avoid the pain you’ll inevitably cause her.”

  “I’d never do anything…”

  He raises his palm. “Just stop. This isn’t up for negotiation. Break things off with her, or I’ll have to pull your scholarship and your spot on the team.”

  What the actual fuck. I fist my hands at my sides and use every ounce of restraint in my body to not barrel toward him, wrestle him to the ground, and beat him. Adrenaline floods my body, and there’s not a thing I can do with it if I want to keep my scholarship. “You can’t do this.” I say it, but know he can.

  “Do what I ask, Gavin. If you don’t, you won’t like the consequences. And remember what I said. Not a word of this to anyone. Especially my daughter.”

  White-hot rage blankets every inch of my body. I’m like a wild animal backed into a corner. My vision is cloudy with rage. I’m edgy with it. I have to leave as quickly as possible, if not, I’ll do something I might regret if I’m around this arrogant asshole for another second.

  “Whatever,” I say as I storm out, completely fucking shellshocked, with my tail between my legs.

  I run all the way to my car, but even pounding the pavement isn’t enough to defuse my anger. I’m desperate for a way to release this pain, but there’s nothing I can do.

  With my pulse pounding hard and tunnel vision, I yank my phone out of my pocket and write Stella a text. If this hurts her half as much as it does me, I’ll hate myself. Who am I kidding? I already do.

  Hitting send fucking kills me.

  Twenty-One

  Stella

  I’m going to have to cancel on our plans tonight. I also think it’s best for us to cool things down.

  I re-read the message Gavin sent me last night over and over again.

  The message doesn’t make sense, and he refuses to pick up my calls or return my texts. Last night I even drove to the hockey house and he wasn’t there. His friends acted like they didn’t know where he was either, but I call bullshit. I’m sure one of them knew, but bro code kept them all silent.

  It's seven a.m. and I barely slept last night. I tossed and turned all night long. In one distinctive dream, I awoke, my body covered in a sheen of sweat. My father was standing over me, pointing in my face and laughing, telling me he told me so.

  It's Sunday morning and I'm sure Harper isn't awake yet, but I need to talk.

  I scurry down the hall to her room and ease open the door.

  Early morning rays of sunshine stream through the single window over her bed. She's cocooned in her covers, lying faceup with only her face showing.

  Her room is messier than normal, with clothes strewn on the floor, her dresser, her desk, and the chair. A half-eaten package of Oreos sits on her nightstand and a few bottles of Coke, none completely empty.

  Harper is one of my best friends, but I could never live in this level of disarray.

  I tiptoe over to her bed and it dips as I take the seat on the edge.

  "Harper," I whisper.

  She doesn't move an inch. I try again, slightly louder this time.

  Nothing. Part of me wonders if I should let Sleeping Beauty get her rest, but I can't face going back to my room alone, wondering what I should do.

  "Harper." I grip her shoulders and give her a gentle shake.

  She cracks one eye open and whines, yanking the covers over her head.

  "I need you,” I say. “Please talk to me for a couple of minutes, then I swear you can go right back to sleep."

  She remains silent and unmoving for so long, I worry she's gone back to sleep.

  Just as I'm about to give up and skulk out of her room, she pushes the covers off her face.

  "This better be good," she huffs and unseals one eye.

  I unlock my phone and pull up Gavin's text.

  She scans it and snaps both eyes open wide. "He sent you this last night?"

  I fight back the tears that threaten to fall. "Yes. He sent it a couple of hours after he left here yesterday. Everything was great. He told me he'd be back to pick me up for our date. I don't know what happened."

  Harper sits all the way up, leaning against her headboard. "Telling you that you need to cool things off over text is pretty low."

  "It is, and doesn't make any sense. Something is up."

  "Tell me everything that happened yesterday. Don't leave anything out."

  I give her all the details about breakfast with my parents, then finding Gavin to tell him all about it, only to have him run out on me. I tell her about how my head went to the worst place, thinking Gavin was up to no good. I let my father's words sink in and I doubted Gavin. But when he found me in the lab, I realized that I let doubt and fear in instead of trusting Gavin. Especially after he told me why he needed to leave so quickly.

  "When he was here at the sorority house with me, I told him that I love him. He seemed so happy and even though he didn't say it back, there was love in his eyes." I choke back a sob, because I know I wasn't imagining it.

  Harper pulls me in
for a hug, which only makes me cry harder. It's like my heart is ripped in half.

  I don't pull away until I have my wits about me again. "Gavin is a good man. I know it. What could have happened?"

  Harper grimaces. "I don't know. Are you sure there wasn't anything else that

  happened yesterday that could’ve caused him to act this way?"

  This is all I've been able to think about, and I keep coming up with more questions than answers.

  Harper takes one of the warm Cokes off of her nightstand and has a few sips. "Wait. Do you think your father could have something to do with this?"

  "Maybe. He was livid with me yesterday when I walked out of breakfast."

  Harper sinks back into bed, pulling the covers tight under her chin. "I think you have your answer."

  I lean down and give her a kiss on the cheek. "You are brilliant."

  "You're right. I am. Close the door on your way out, please.” She makes a kissing sound and closes her eyes.

  In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and throw my hair back in a ponytail. I dress in a sweatshirt and leggings and set off to my parents’ house.

  I know the drive like the back of my hand. Mindlessly, I crank the radio and let my mind drift to the possibility of my hardass father somehow communicating with Gavin. I hope it isn't true, but I don't have anything else to go on. I suspect when I confront my father, he’ll try to deny that he had anything to do with Gavin breaking up with me. But I'm hoping by scrutinizing his facial expressions, I might be able to figure out if he tells me the truth or not.

  When I pull to my parents’ driveway, my father's SUV is parked there, but my mom's Volvo isn't. It is Sunday morning. She's at church.

  I doubt Dad went with her. He used to, years ago, but as time went by, he stopped going.

  It’s probably for the best she’s not here. She doesn’t need to be in the middle of this.

  When I open the door, Dad’s at the kitchen table, newspaper in hand and a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

  "This is a surprise." He closes the paper and sets it on the table. "What brought you here so early in the morning?"

  He’s in his bathrobe, hair mussed from sleep, clearly not expecting a visitor, yet his relaxed posture tells me he isn't surprised to see me.