“Sure.” I shrugged and took my last bite of eggs. “If you promise not to be rude and storm out of the kitchen when we’re eating together again.”
His mouth parted, and he stared at me with a slack jaw, his hand frozen at the side of his leg. “Wait,” he said, blinking. “Did I upset you?”
“Upset is too strong of a word for it. More like irritated.” I got up and rinsed my plate, still feeling the weight of his confused stare. A part of me felt bad for him. He was nervous about the party and trying to fit in with the team when he had so much to lose, but his laser-focus could still hurt people around him. I leaned against the counter again and faced him. “Having a meal with someone is nice. Food was always a huge part of our family. Breakfasts, dinners, and brunches on weekends. It’s where we connected, and we always stayed at the table until we were all done. It’s a sign of respect, and I thought maybe we could be friends, J.D.”
“Jonah,” he said, his voice getting serious again. “I like that you call me Jonah.”
“Okay.” I curled my toes into the cold floor at the brief heat that entered and left his eyes in a single breath.
“I’ll sit with you next time.”
“Thank you.”
He ran a hand over his jaw, the movement showcasing how large his hands really were. They covered half his face. “You meant what you said about the party?”
“Yes. If I have to work early Sunday morning, then I’ll leave early, but I can go with you.”
His relief was evident. His mouth quirked up on one side, and his shoulders relaxed. “I think maybe we can be friends too.”
“Wow.” I put a hand over my heart and gave him my best fake smile. “Did it hurt to say that?”
“No?”
I snorted. “You’re too easy to tease,” I said, walking past him and into my room. “And I think the moment has already happened.”
“What has?”
“Us being friends.”
He turned, and we stood two feet apart, the air heavy between us. His answering grin was almost enough to knock me off my feet. His entire face lit up with the curve of his lips, and I open-mouth stared at my roommate.
“You’re right. Kinda snuck up on me, but I don’t hate it.” His grin fell when he studied my face. “Wait, did I say something wrong again?”
“No, sorry. Your smile. I hadn’t seen it before.” I shook my head, gaining my wits. “You have a wonderful smile.”
My extra-large, too focused new friend blushed, and it was about the cutest thing I’d ever witnessed. He looked at the ground, swallowing so loud I heard a click. “Well, uh, I have to go to the gym.”
“Ah, enjoy that.”
He ducked his head and went into his room for a few minutes before heading out the door. I couldn’t stop laughing at my very interesting roommate. The intense guy who was going to a party to seem not obsessed with hockey and needed a buddy.
Well, that was something I could easily do. Now I had to tell my brother about him before he accidentally found out. And convince him Jonah and I rooming together wasn’t a big deal.
I got out my phone and sent him a text.
Ryann: Can you meet?
Mikey: Absolutely, where?
Ryann: Quad, fifteen minutes. Near the clock tower.
That was one thing I admired Michael for—I was always a priority. Even if he was dating or midseason, he never made me feel like an inconvenience in his life, like he actually enjoyed seeing me and was glad we were close. I threw on jeans and a Moo U shirt and set out to meet him, my heart rate picking up the closer I got. It was easy to tell Jonah it would be no big deal, but it was only half true. Michael was going to be pissed he didn’t know about the dorm situation. Super pissed.
And the rooming-with-his-teammate thing might not go over well.
“Ry, hey,” Michael said a few minutes later, walking up from the sidewalk that twisted into the library. “What’s up? Why are you coming from that way? Isn’t your dorm on the south?”
“Ah, well, nice catch.” Shit. Say it. Tell him. “I’m not living in the dorm anymore,” I said, all in one breath.
“Why the fuck not?” His eyes got all big, and a vein popped out on his forehead. “Where are you living, and why didn’t you tell me? When did this happen?”
Not a great sign. He spoke fast when his emotions got the best of him, and his eyes bugged out of his head.
“I found a roommate on a third floor of an old house. I love it actually, plus, it’s close to the coffee shop attached to the library where I work now.”
He blinked. “You moved out and got a job? Ryann… what is going on?”
“Sit down, come on.” I moved us to the bench, and he plopped down next to me, anger rolling off his shoulders. “I was on probation last year after my roommates had weed and alcohol in our dorm. I didn’t use it, but it didn’t matter since it was our room. It was a warning, and after the first week back… she pulled the same thing. Parties, beer, handles of vodka. If we got caught, my scholarship could’ve been in trouble.”
He took a deep breath and pinched his nose. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? This happened last year? What the fuck?”
“Because you would’ve tried to fix it. It was during the season, and I didn’t want to mess anything up. I needed to sort this out on my own, okay? I love you, but…you’re my brother, not Dad.”
He recoiled like I hit him in the right in the teeth. “Ry,” he said, his voice breaking. Hearing the emotion in his voice and the look of despair on his face made my stomach twist in knots. I hated seeing him upset.
“Look, I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it that way. I just…” I paused and adjusted my ponytail before looking at his sad eyes. “You need to focus on yourself, not me. I wanted to figure my shit out so you didn’t have to worry. Maybe I need to prove to myself I’m okay alone. You’re going to be gone next year, and you should graduate and move on. Maybe I needed to show both of us I’ll be fine.”
“But you’re not alone. I’ll always be there for you.”
“I know.” I leaned my head onto his shoulder for a second. “But we can’t live in this bubble forever.”
He sighed and let out a long growl before he stretched. “So where do you work?”
“The cafe by the library.”
He nodded and tapped his fingers on the edge of the bench. “Okay, I like that. You’re always there anyway, so you might as well get free food.”
“Duh,” I said, forcing a smile before I dropped the biggest bombshell. “There’s one more thing.”
“What is it?” he asked, his tone sharper than normal.
“I’m rooming with your teammate, J.D.”
His entire body turned to stone, and he looked me up and stared me down like I was an opponent on the ice. “What? With J.D.?”
“I answered an ad for a roommate, and there was a name mix-up. He thought I was a guy, and I thought he was a girl.” I paused and wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs. “It’s working out well for both of us, actually.”
Michael’s expression could scare a serial killer. “You’re living with my teammate?”
“Yes.”
“A hockey player.”
“Yes, you can clarify all you want, but… we both need the roommate, okay?” I said, my throat dry and my skin itching with worry. “This isn’t high school anymore, Michael.”
His jaw tightened, and he brought a clenched fist to his mouth. “We could see if there’s room in like a girls’ dorm or something.”
“No. I’m staying.”
“Ry,” he said, his voice getting tighter. “I hate this.”
Shit. “I know you do, but you have to trust me. You do, right?”
He took a deep breath. “Yes, but—”
“There is no but here. Just yes. You either trust me or you don’t. This will be fine, okay? I’m not going to make out with him under the bleachers.” My face heated at the memory of the teammate who wanted to mess with Michael’
s stats to make captain and used me to do it. It caused the one and only riff between my brother and me. That asshole was the main reason I never even looked at a hockey player that way. “That will not happen.
He swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. I’m still pissed as hell but not ready to punch someone. If I had to pick anyone on the team for you to live with… it would be him. He’s a recluse and a good dude.”
“Don’t take this shit out on him, Michael. I swear to god. This is my fault, and I’m not moving out because you might be upset.”
He nodded, and the anger seemed to dissipate behind his eyes. “Thank you for telling me everything. I hate that it took you this long, but… I can see you’re nervous. We aren’t the same people we were in high school.”
“I want us to remain close, but I gotta figure stuff out on my own, you know?”
He nodded and let out a long sigh.
“Oh, by the way, I’m dragging J.D. to the party Saturday. We’ll show up together so don’t be weird about it.”
He ran a hand over his face and nodded. “Well, that would’ve been a shock, so thanks for the heads up. I’m glad he’s loosening up. I don’t get him.”
“He’s focused, Mikey. Really focused.” I found myself defending him. “Saturday will be great.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” He put his arm around me in a quick hug. “Thanks for telling me, even though I should’ve fucking known. Don’t keep shit from me again.”
“Love you,” I said, pinching his side and earning a yelp. “Oh, your fan club is arriving.”
A group of five girls giggled in his direction, and I pushed off him. “Be smart bro, I’m too young to be an aunt.”
His eyes bugged out of his head, and he flipped me off before turning on the charm and facing the girls. He was such a damn flirt, but it made me smile. He didn’t shy away from connections with others like I did. He took out his grief on the ice.
I curled my hair and wore dark skinny jeans, black flats, and a black chiffon top that dipped a little lower than normal in the front. While parties weren’t my thing, going out, flirting, and having a few drinks had their time and place when it wasn’t in the stupid dorms. It had been a long summer of nothing but working at the library part-time, so excitement grew in my gut all day. Letting loose sounded awesome.
I rubbed lotion on my hands and arms, made sure to put on an extra layer of mascara, and lined my lips with a deep red. It was the perfect combination of flirty but not overdoing it, which was about the only look I could go for knowing my brother would be at the party. Flirting was alright but never with the hockey team.
Music blared from my phone, and I turned it off to see how my roommate was doing. He sat on the couch, eyes narrowed at the TV, and he leaned onto his knees. “Hey, you getting ready to leave soon?” I asked.
He flicked his gaze to me and back to the TV but did a double take. This time, his intense stare started at my legs and slowly moved up my chest before landing on my face. There was a flicker of heat in his eyes, but it disappeared in less than a second. A warm, dangerous thrill went through me knowing he checked me out.
“Is what I’m wearing not okay?” He gestured down to a gray T-shirt and jeans.
“Oh, you’re fine.” I headed toward the other side of the couch and sat down. “I meant more like, is there anything you needed to do before we head out?”
Hockey played on the TV—shocking no one—and he paused whatever game he watched to focus on me again. “I’d like to finish this period. There’s five minutes left.”
“Yeah, for sure.” I squinted at the screen. “Okay, is this an old game from last year’s season?”
“Yes. I like to look for patterns. It might seem tedious, but watching rushes and possessions and studying other players’ moves can help me be a better teammate.” His focus was back on the TV, and I didn’t want to distract him, so I kept quiet.
Did Michael ever study his teammates so he could be a better teammate? I couldn’t remember him doing that, but maybe he did.
Doubtful, though. My brother loved hockey and was a great leader, but very few people were like Jonah. His desperate focus made him more.
More focused, more willing to spend every second getting better, and more to lose if he didn’t make it. My heart swelled again when I thought about how he blamed himself for his mom’s decision, and it made me want to try harder to be his friend.
That meant getting him to have a good time and relax tonight. I waited until the clock ran down before taking the remote from him and turning it off. “Okay, Jonah, you’re officially done. You push all thoughts of sticks, pucks, and ice out of your head.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, hinting another smile as he stared at me.
“I mean it.” I pointed a finger at his chest and hardened my face. “No sneaking off at the party to watch a game on your phone, and no talking shop. You will have fun.”
His lip twitched on the side. “Seems a little…forced when you say it like that.”
“Don’t care.” I stood up, jutting my chin toward the door. “Put your fun pants on, and let’s go.”
“Fun pants?” he said, this time letting out a small laugh as he grabbed his wallet from the side table. “Are you wearing your fun pants?”
“Yes. Made sure I washed them yesterday.”
He shook his head at me, but warmth flared in his eyes. “I appreciate what you’re doing.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, putting a hand on my hip.
“Distracting me from being nervous.” He ran a hand through his messy hair. It was so full and thick and paired well with his long lashes and dark brown eyes. There was a reason why girls loved talking about his picture on billboards: Jonah was handsome. “I’m glad I’m going with you,” he said, his voice low and deep.
“You know… I’m glad too.”
We shared a brief smile, and the strangest urge to touch him had me take a step back. I rarely touched anyone and that would cross a line. A huge one. Even if I wanted to know what his hair felt like, I couldn’t. “Party time, hockey man. Oh, I told my brother. He knows we’re showing up together.”
6
Jonah
The first college party I went to, I slept with someone I never saw again, woke up with a pounding headache, and threw up before practice the next day. The image of the girl, the gross feeling of the hangover, and the physical way it hurt my body never left my mind. Even now, walking toward the hockey house with Ryann, nerves exploded in my gut. Especially that her brother knew.
Too much could go wrong. Getting drunk meant losing control, and control of my own life was the only thing I had left.
“How did he take it?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s more annoyed at me than you.”
Not reassuring. He’ll be here tonight. Guess that would clue me in on my status on the team. Shit. “No punching me in the face the second I walk in?” I meant it as a joke, but her red cheeks paled a bit, and my jaw clenched with stress.
“No, he won’t. I’m almost sure of it.” She grinned, tooth-gap on display, and my insides felt warm for a second. Then Ryann sneezed three times, covering her face with the crook of her arm before she gave me a sheepish smile. “Ah, excuse me.”
“You’re all right.” I glanced down at her. Ryann’s full height came to my shoulders, her frame petite. If I wasn’t so nervous about the party, I’d admire her hair. It was the first time I’d seen it down and wavy, and damn, Michael’s little sister was pretty.
More than pretty.
I cleared my throat, and my teammate’s little sister flashed in my brain like a jumbotron. It didn’t matter if I craved her smile and enjoyed her constant teasing. There wasn’t time for anyone in my life, and even if I had free moments, she would be the worst person to get involved with. At least she told her brother about us living together.
“Do you drink?” Ryann asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I have, yes.” My tone was clipped as w
e continued down the path toward the hockey house. Students were out on a warm summer night, and a few heads turned my way as we walked. They were easy to ignore though. A quick nod in greeting pacified them. “Do you?”
“Every once in a while. I have friends and I love people—the noise, the chatter, the questions. I can talk to anyone about anything, but I need quiet and time to retreat. If I’m around people too much, it’s exhausting.”
Two thoughts struck me.
Were my rules keeping her from friends?
Did she think I was exhausting?
I didn’t get to ask though. Someone came into view and said Ryann’s name in a way that had me suck in a breath. It was soft, tender, and intimate?
She stopped walking as the guy got closer to us, and her usual smile slid off her face. “Derrick.”
“Hey. How are you?” he said, his gaze moving to me for a second before he focused on Ryann. “You look amazing. It’s been a while, huh?”
“Yeah.” She bit down on her lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Been about six months since you decided to not answer my texts.”
“Look,” the guy said, wincing and gripping the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. Things got weird for me, and instead of being honest, I backed out. I tried calling you a few times to explain. Could we talk, just the two of us?” He glanced at me again and recognition hit me.
Derrick Flanigan. One of the top guys on the baseball team.
“There isn’t much to talk about,” Ryann said, her tone sad and without her normal zest. Hearing her voice devoid of emotion gutted me. She’d radiated so much joy and hope in the short time I knew her, and not seeing it, even for a second, made me want to do anything to get it back.
“I really am sorry,” Derrick said, his shoulders slumping. “Well, see you around Ryann.”
Holdout: A Moo U Hockey Romance Page 5