Ruthless Player: A College Hockey Romance (Westfall U Series)

by R. C. Stephens

  “You can actually hear it?” Cole asks. I turn to look at him and his eyes are round with curiosity and I don’t know what else. Fear? I know I’m terrified.

  “Yes,” the technician says, and then she adjusts something on her keyboard and there it is.

  Wow. This is real.

  The soft thumping sound relaxes me and suddenly I feel. . .love?

  “Say something,” Cole says, watching me with a worried brow.

  “Is it possible that I love this baby already?” I say to Cole, but it’s the technician who answers.

  “The bond of parent and child begins before birth. Some people say it never dies. Even after our parents are gone,” she says.

  This technician doesn’t know me or Cole from Adam, but somehow her words resonate and make sense and a peace falls over me.

  “Yeah,” Cole agrees softly, like he gets it too. He takes my hand and squeezes it, and gosh, it would be so easy to lean over and kiss him to make us a family, but he doesn’t know what all this truly means. He offers to give up on hockey but when it comes down to it, will he really be there for us? I don’t want to put myself in a position to find out so I decide right then that keeping a safe distance from Cole is best. I take back my hand and give him a tight smile. He looks confused but he has to understand that it’s safer this way. For all of us.

  Twenty-Seven

  Cole

  I head home after a full day. Early morning practice followed by two classes and one tutorial back-to-back.

  I walk through the front door. “Hello? Anybody here?”

  Holland walks out of the kitchen and licks her finger. Damn, she looks good. The only thing that’s changed about her in the past month is the size of her breasts. It’s hard not to notice because she wears tight tops, and man, the way it’s hugging her chest now is giving me a semi.

  “How was your day?” she asks.

  “Exhausting,” I reply. I slip off my runners at the door since Holland likes to keep the place clean. Dec usually forgets to take his shoes off and Holland will reprimand him. He’s been really cool with her living her though so I can’t complain.

  “I’m pretty beat too,” she says.

  “So sit back and relax and I’ll make dinner,” I suggest. “I got the ground beef.” I swing the plastic grocery bag so she can see.

  “Uh uh.” She shakes her head. “We are making dinner together.”

  Of course she has to be stubborn about every little thing and I love that about her.

  We head into the kitchen and I fill myself a glass of water.

  My cell rings.

  “Hello,” I greet into the phone.

  “Hi, Cole,” Granny Mae says. “Did I catch you on time?”

  “Yes,” I say. She’s been trying to call at about the time we prep dinner so that she can speak to both me and Holland. “I’ll put you on speaker.”

  “Hi, Granny Mae,” Holland says. These two have been getting along like old buddies.

  “Hi, darling,” Granny Mae responds. “How you feeling today?”

  “Tired. So tired. And hungry. . .like all the time,” Holland complains but she’s smiling so I’m not too worried.

  “Yes, I remember those days. I wanted to eat all the carbs when I was pregnant with Catherine.”

  “Carbs are my new best friend. I’m going to end up gaining so much weight,” Holland says, and she preps the ingredients for the guacamole.

  “Nah! You look great,” I say, and when I look at Holland a healthy flush comes to her cheeks.

  “I’m sure she does,” Granny Mae agrees, even though they’ve never met in person. “What’s on the menu for dinner tonight?”

  “Tacos,” we answer in unison.

  “Again? Didn’t you have tacos on Monday night?” Granny Mae asks.

  “Holland was in the mood for tacos again, so my . . .” I pause, realizing I was about to say my girl. “Holland gets to choose the menu.”

  “Are you okay cooking the meat again?” Holland asks me.

  “Of course,” I answer. Touching raw meat has been making her nauseous so I’ve been taking care of the main dishes while Holland prepares the sides.

  “Thanks.” Holland smiles.

  “What are the chances you two want to come down to Georgia for Thanksgiving next month?” Granny Mae asks. Her hopeful tone doesn’t go unnoticed.

  I stare at Holland and with my eyes ask her silently what she thinks.

  “I have to see what Paris and Max are doing,” Holland says. “This is our first Thanksgiving together in years, and we both don’t have any family.”

  Paris’s boyfriend, Tobias, took off a couple months ago and never came back. He’s barely in touch with Max either. It’s been weighing hard on Holland. She sees him as another dude that hasn’t stuck by his family. I’ve been trying to prove that I am nothing like that, but she’s been keeping me at a distance, even though she lets me come for doctor’s appointments, which I was at yesterday.

  “I understand,” Granny Mae says.

  “Would you consider coming here?” I ask my grandma.

  “You can still go to Georgia,” Holland says to me, like she is surprised I haven’t thought of the idea myself.

  “By the time Thanksgiving comes along you’re going to be six months pregnant. I’m not leaving you,” I declare.

  “The baby and I will be fine,” she assures me. She’s all about her independence and I get it. I don’t want to take that away from her. I just want to be with her.

  “Don’t you get that you and this baby are my family now? Even if we aren’t together, I still want to be with you and spend the holiday with you,” I explain to her.

  “I’ll let you two get back to cooking. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Granny Mae says.

  A wave of some sort of emotion passes over Holland, I’m not sure what it is.

  “Would you consider coming here?” This time the question comes from Holland.

  “I haven’t been to Westfall since I attended Catherine’s funeral,” Granny Mae says.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in a bad position,” Holland apologizes.

  “You haven’t, dear,” Granny Mae assures her. “Truth is, I was going to have to come back at some point. You’re having my first great-grandbaby. I’d be delighted to come. Thanks for the invitation but please, if I’m coming then I insist on cooking. I make a mean turkey and gravy and a homemade strawberry rhubarb pie.”

  “That sounds delicious,” Holland says. “I can’t wait to meet you in person.”

  “Me too,” Granny Mae says delighted.

  I know there is no way Holland is eating turkey because the pregnancy has given her an aversion to chicken and turkey, but it’s nice that she is going to let Granny Mae take care of things.

  I whisper thank you to Holland and she blinks and nods.

  “Talk soon,” Granny Mae says. “Enjoy your tacos.”

  “We will,” Holland giggles.

  “Take care, Granny Mae,” I say and we end the call.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask Holland.

  “Of course. I really like your grandmother; it will be nice to have a big Thanksgiving table. She won’t mind if Rebel, Wolfe, and Blossom join, will she?”

  “The more the merrier with my grandmother,” I assure her.

  Holland smiles.

  We place the food on the table and Holland builds her first taco. I love watching her do it to because she gives it so much thought. When she takes her first bite, her eyes close and she enjoys every ingredient coming together.

  “This is so good,” she moans.

  I start to eat too so she doesn’t feel weird about her new love affair with food.

  “How was practice today?” she asks after a few bites.

  “It was okay,” I say.

  “Just okay?” she raises her right brow, sensing something is up with me.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t feel like I have the same
enthusiasm for hockey that I used to,” I admit.

  She places her taco on her plate like I just had some life-changing realization. “Why do you think that is?”

  I shrug. “I seriously have no idea. I always loved hockey and my mom supported me and even after she died, I considered my team like my family. We trained together and played together. We hung out together after games. I was never lonely. Your mom was right to tell me to dive into hockey because I was lonely and hockey made me less lonely.”

  “What are you saying, Cole?” she asks, and I sense that I may be freaking her out. I don’t think she wants to know that now I feel like I have a real family with her here and the baby on the way. We aren’t together, but something tells me that if we were we’d be magic. Those thoughts sound weird in my own head. I was against relationships and settling down, but after seeing the baby on the monitor and realizing a real living being that I created was growing inside her belly. . . well, something inside me changed. I mean, do I have to be like my father? I would never make Holland choose me over her career.

  “I don’t know. I’m just rambling. Ignore me,” I chuckle. I don’t want to scare her off. She’s in such a sensitive place right now.

  “Are you sure? You can talk to me. I mean we still are friends, right?” she asks.

  “Of course we are. I’m just confused is all. I’ve started to think that maybe I should write the LSAT, you know, to go to law school. I mean my degree is in political science and business but. . .just ignore me. . . I guess I’m having lots of thoughts, you know because of the baby.”

  “Cole, the baby doesn’t need to change the course of your life. You can still follow your dreams,” she says.

  I want to ask her what if my dreams have changed? What if she and the baby are my new dream now? Do I have the right to say that? I take a deep breath. You’ll freak her the fuck out. Just shut up.

  “For sure. We can still follow our dreams, Holland. We got this.” I bite into my taco, but all I can think about is showing this girl that we can be so much more. The question is, how do I go about doing that?

  Twenty-Eight

  Cole

  It’s another early morning practice as Coach grills us about the Ice-Breaker Tournament, which starts tomorrow night here in Boston.

  “Freshman, beware. This tournament marks our standings going into the season. Last year we were the champions. This year we need to defy history and become the champions again,” Coach Ramirez says.

  The guys cheer and everyone leaves the ice.

  “Davis, stay behind,” Coach Ramirez orders.

  The guys take off to the locker rooms and I stay waiting on the ice.

  “Davis, I thought you wanted to draft this year,” he says, furrowing his brow.

  “I thought that’s what I wanted to,” I say to Coach, and he gives me a quizzical look.

  I respond by telling him about Holland and the baby. Coach eyes me like he is seeing me for the first time.

  “I can’t tell you what to do, son,” he says. He’s really been the closest thing I’ve had to a father these last three years. “What I can tell you is to keep your options open. You’re a damn good player and if this season goes as planned, you have the potential to draft, but I can’t tell you what’s good for you. Do you have another job lined up?”

  “Not exactly a job. I’ve been thinking of law school. My mother was a lawyer and she has a law firm. Well, it’s been left to me but I obviously don’t run it. There’s also my dad’s company but I don’t think I want to be doing that at all,” I chuckle nervously.

  “You have a plan B and that’s good. Especially with a kid on the way. The only parenting advice I can give you is be dependable. Kids have their own ideas and personalities. They just need guidance and someone to lean on from time to time,” he says. I know his kids are way older than me so I am guessing it’s been a while since he’s had a baby. Dependable sounds about right, but I have a feeling that baby is going to need Holland and me for every little thing and I plan to be there.

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “Look, Cole. I still need you to bring it on the ice. This team depends on you and Declan. You’re both strong wingers,” he says.

  “I don’t plan on letting the team down,” I assure him.

  “And you know you don’t have to give up on your dreams for a baby,” he informs me.

  “Funny, my girl. . .the mother of my baby said the same thing to me,” I say, catching myself. Holland and me are always spending time together but I need to remember she isn’t mine.

  Coach’s brow furrows. “Are you and the mother not together?”

  I shake my head. “She doesn’t believe in relationships,” I mumble. “She’s had a hard time and she doesn’t trust so easy.”

  “Show her she can trust you,” Coach expresses.

  “Wish I knew how,” I sigh.

  “Trust comes with time, Cole. Be patient.”

  “I’m trying, and about hockey, I won’t let the team down. I plan on bringing it home tomorrow night.” I nod.

  “Now you’re talking.” He claps me on the back and tells me to get out of there. I can’t say I have more clarity but he’s right. I need to keep my options open. This whole thing with the baby has been life altering and I feel like I have whiplash. I’ll just play it out and see what happens.

  The DCU center is packed for the Ice-Breaker Tournament. We’re playing Havenshire tonight. Always a charm playing those assholes. Everyone’s pumped and the game is about to begin.

  Bozeman is our center and he’s going up against Berlin.

  Berlin says something to him but I can’t hear what. What I do know is that Bozeman knows how to keep his cool. It makes me proud to think that Wolfe is in the NHL and that asshole Berlin is still here playing NCAA.

  Berlin shoots past Bozeman. The puck flies across the ice. Ryse intercepts and shoots it back. I get hold of the puck and skate across the ice. I shoot to Dec and he has a clean shot. He shoots and. . .the millisecond it takes to fly into the net has me holding my breath. He scores.

  The buzzer sounds. And it’s one point for us. I look at the scoreboard to see that we’ve only been playing a minute. I’m not dumb enough to think Havenshire is going to make it easy. That first goal was partial luck.

  I’m switched off the ice and a freshman named Evan Hayworth is put on instead of me. He seems to be a good guy. Came from Minnesota, seems to be a strong player.

  “Good play.” Coach nods to me.

  “Thanks, Coach,” I say, and I lift my water bottle to my mouth.

  I turn around to look out at the stands, maybe out of habit, and to my surprise I see Holland and Rebel in the stands. Holland notices me watching her and I nod my head. I like having her here, even though I don’t know if she’s rooting for me.

  The next few minutes pass without too much drama. Hayworth puts up a strong defense. Ryse is on their ass grabbing the puck away. Our guys make a few good passes but it doesn’t lead to another goal on either side. When I get back on the ice, I notice Berlin checking me out. I so want to give him the finger just to piss him off, but I don’t want to draw attention.

  Bozeman is at face-off. This time he stick handles the puck out of Berlin’s grasp and we are all a blur of players fighting for the puck like it’s our last breath. Ryse moves in on Berlin, he skates around him and I just get a bad vibe. Don’t get too close. I watch as Berlin’s elbow comes up and knocks Ryse backward. Motherfucker. The ref better call that but Ryse remains on his feet and continues to skate and the penalty isn’t called. Berlin takes the puck around the back of the net and shoots directly into our net and the score is one to one.

  Ryse skates over to me shaking his head. “Assholes always get away with so much shit.”

  “Tell me about it,” I say.

  The third period has a lot riding on the line. The game is tied and our standing for the year will be determined. Things move fast as both sides are out for blood. We won the Frozen F
our last year and I am betting Havenshire is gunning for it this year.

  My competitiveness and will to win gets the better of me as I skate my ass off. I steal the puck from someone on their team. He must be a freshman and I skate my ass off thinking I’m taking this one home, but I get intercepted by one of the Havenshire players and my shot isn’t as clean as I’d like it to be, so I pass to Hayworth and he shoots and scores. Fuck ya.

  The game resumes and Berlin laughs. He fucking laughs. It seems that his beef with Wolfe has somehow passed on to me. I’m beginning to think he may be insane. The game starts off again. And one of the Havenshire players board checks a sophomore on our team. A penalty is called and he gets two minutes in the box. Now is my chance. I skate my ass off and get past a bunch of players on their team. I steal the puck from under Berlin’s nose and when he comes after me, I am too damn fast. The goalie presses his knees together and I do it, I go all fucking in. Slap shot. The puck flies in the air and enters the right corner of the net.

  The crowd goes wild and I hold my stick up in the air and I look for her, Holland. What is she doing? What is she thinking? What has happened to me? I find her standing in the crowd cheering her ass off. By the look on her face she is hooting. So is Rebel. I wave at her and I can tell she knows it’s directed at her.

  We win the game two to three. It would have been nice to start off the season with a hat trick, but hey, I’ll take what I can get.

  The game ends and we shake hands with the players on the other team, but when it comes to Berlin, he fucking skips me. I don’t know what climbed up that guy’s asshole.

  We head back out to the bleachers and Coach pats me on the back. “Good job, son,” he says. “If this is how you plan on playing this season, it would be a damn shame for you not to draft.” His words hit home but I still feel so confused. Law makes me feel close to Mom. I enjoy learning law but would it give me the same satisfaction hockey does? My head is messed up and I know that it has to do with Holland and I raising this baby apart. I don’t want to be a part-time father but it isn’t only that. I have very strong feelings for Holland. I want to suggest to her that we date a little before the baby comes and see how it goes, but I know with everything she’s been through it’s a no go. Even though I don’t understand why. We live together, hang out together every night. Cook meals together. The only thing that’s missing is sex, and I have a feeling it would be fucking amazing too.