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Puck Me

M.A. Lee
Copyright © 2023 by M.A. Lee

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
 Contents

1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 29
Afterword
Also By
About the Author
 Chapter 1

Sadie

“T hat’sI turntheaway
biggest dick I’ve ever seen!”
as Lacey licks her lips, causing the naked guy to chuckle.
“I can’t believe this,” I groan as I push my way through the crowd. The door to the Sunnyvale Hawks locker room
closes, and our view of the naked player disappears.
When Lacey had said she wanted to come with me tonight, dicks and naked guys weren't what I had expected.
It’s only seven, but already the arena is packed with rowdy fans ready to watch the Sunnyvale Hawks hockey team.
Everyone is decked out in teal and silver – the official colors of our school and team. This is my second year at Sunnyvale, and
I couldn’t imagine going to school anywhere else. The small campus was even more breathtaking than the online pictures and
brochures I had looked over when I had made the decision to attend after high school. Tucked outside of a bustling city,
Sunnyvale offers gorgeous beaches, small cafes, and shops and is the perfect place for me to start out on my own.
However, right now, I want to murder my journalism professor for thinking that I would ever be interested in doing a story on
a sports team – especially our school hockey team. Why in the hell did I agree to this?
Oh yeah, because if I turned down the assignment, that would be the nail in the coffin for any chance that I would land
my dream job of interning at The Vibe, only the most influential and popular social media and news platform.
Chad, my boss, knows that my dream and passion is to write feature articles about current events, not athletes who seem to
think they are gods on campus.
“Stop complaining,” Lacey, my roommate and best friend, scoffs. “Look around. We are in a sea of hotties.” She waves her
arm around as though that should entice me to want to be here.
Trust me, it doesn’t.
Athletes aren’t my type.
Cocky, sweaty, muscle heads just don’t get me all hot and bothered. Especially not these guys. The Sunnyvale Hawks Hockey
Team has the worst reputation around. They are known for throwing wild parties, sleeping with every female on campus, and
being just plain rude.
“I know absolutely nothing about hockey,” I yell, trying to get my voice to be heard over the loudness of the arena. “Of all the
assignments to give me, this has to be some kind of sick joke,” I say, rolling my eyes as a guy stumbles past me, his beer
sloshing over the rim of his plastic cup.
Lacey moves her red hair off her shoulder as she turns to face me. “Just watch the game, get the details you need to write
your article, and then we can leave,” she sighs. “Besides, you just got a glimpse of a full-blown naked hottie back there,” she
yells, pointing behind us.
Guilt begins to creep in as I look at Lacey’s face. Her blue eyes dull as her smile fades. Lacey was excited about heading to
the game tonight. Unlike me, Lacey enjoys going to the school sporting events and getting wild. I love a good time, too, but a
hockey game? Not so much.
“We can stay longer,” I say, not wanting to ruin her night. She agreed to come with me, so the least I can do is show her a
good time. “I have my press pass, so we can go into the locker room.”
Hearing this, Lacey’s eyes go wide, and a devious smile creeps over her soft, porcelain skin. “Did you say locker room?
You mean, we don’t just have to spy outside the door in hopes of seeing the glorious form of a naked man? Oh, hell yes,” she
shouts.
A few guys turn to look at us, but mostly everyone is rushing to get to their seats before the game starts. Rolling my eyes, I
ignored her comment. I need in that locker room, but not for the reasons Lacey does. I wrap my sweater around me as the arena
is cold from the ice. I glance down at the notes from my professor on my phone. I need to do a story on the Hawk’s star player,
Tripp Stevens. Notably, one of the hottest guys on the team, he also has one of the worst reputations in the media right now. And
for good reason.
Grabbing my hand, Lacey starts pulling me toward the left. Laughing, I let her pull me as I stuffed my phone back into my
pocket. We reach the locker rooms, and I spot a tall, muscular man in all-black standing guard. He eyes us as he approaches,
and I can tell from the way he’s smirking at me that he thinks we are just trying to get a glimpse at the guys again. Even though
Lacey and I are complete opposites, I can’t help but love her. Lacey and I met when we both arrived at Sunnyvale on the same
day. We were assigned to be roommates and hit it off immediately.
“Hi, I’m Sadie Allen,” I greet him, holding out my press tag lanyard that I’m wearing around my neck.
The burly man reads the tag and then nods for us to enter. “You only have ten minutes. The boys have to get out on the ice
soon,” he grunts as we walk past him and into the large locker room. “This time, they should be fully dressed,” he chuckles,
and I want to die of embarrassment.
The room smells like sweat as we glide past a nice seating area. So far, this is the nicest locker room I have ever been inside
of, and we haven’t made it past the entryway.
Turning a corner, a large dick smacks me in the face.
Well, not literally, but the guy standing in front of me, completely nude with his very well-endowed dick hanging between his
legs, doesn’t seem to be shy at all.
“Hey ladies, puck bunnies have to wait outside.” He smiles, though my eyes can barely see past the large dong staring back
at me. Seriously, do these guys have no shame?
“Oh my god, he thinks we are puck bunnies,” Lacey squeals.
Smacking her arm, I grunt, “He thinks we are what?”
“Girls who chase after hockey players,” she says, as though it is some strange compliment.
Embarrassed and now insulted, I know that I need to correct Mr. Naked before he gets the wrong idea about me. “No, I’m
with the University Press. I’m here to interview Tripp,” I rush out.
Grabbing a towel off a bench next to him, Mr. Naked wraps it around his torso, but he’s so large the towel barely covers
his… penis. Pointing behind him, he says, “Tripp is back there, but hurry. He doesn’t like the press.”
I can only imagine. I’ve never met Tripp, but from what I’ve read and seen in the press, he seems difficult – at best.
Pulling Lacey along, we walk past other burly hockey players who, thankfully, are dressed in their uniforms.
“There he is,” Lacey whispers, nudging my arm.
I spot Tripp sitting on a wooden bench, lacing up his skates. He’s already in his uniform, save for his Jersey and his glorious,
rock-hard abs are on full display, but I see a tightness in his jaw. Mustering my courage, I walked over to him. Sensing my
presence, he looks up, but the glower he gives me causes me to take a step back.
"What are you doing in here?" Tripp asked gruffly. "No reporters allowed."
"Just came to get a quote from the team's star player. Our readers are dying to know more about the elusive Tripp." I try to
sound flirty, but I feel that it comes off as sarcastic.
"Yeah, well, I've got nothing to say." He grunts and continues lacing up his shakes.
Is this guy serious right now? His coach was the one who reached out to my boss about doing a story that would paint him in
a better picture. And this is how he decides to treat me?
“Seems to me you would want to say something,” I begin, all professionalism down the drain. “ Don’t you want to have one
nice story about yourself?”
Standing, Tripp towered over me as he pulled his jersey over his head. I watched as the muscles on his arms rippled, and I
couldn’t help but stare. How could someone so sexy be such an asshole?
"Fine. I've played hockey since I was five years old. It's my passion. And I intend to lead this team all the way to the finals
this year." He goes to walk past me, his skates giving him a little more height to his already large frame.
“That’s not what I was looking for,” I shouted after him.
He doesn’t stop walking as he yells over his shoulder, “Not my problem.”

***
“I can’t believe you talked to Tripp,” Lacey says as we sit in the stands, watching as the team skates across the ice.
I’m beyond pissed right now. After my rude encounter with Tripp, I texted my boss and told him I didn’t think I would be
able to write the story. His terse reply telling me to figure it out, only added to my agitation.
“You heard what an asshat he was,” I growl out. “I hate that I was given this assignment. They know I want to focus on
current events and travel, not trying to make a giant jerk look good to the public.” Huffing, I cross my arms across my chest,
knowing I look like a toddler having a tantrum, but I don’t care.
Shrugging her shoulders, Lacey stuffs a handful of popcorn in her mouth. The girl clearly doesn’t understand my dilemma.
She’s having the time of her life while I’m over here stewing. Ignoring my comment, she says through a mouthful of popcorn,
“Look, the game started.”
The crowd around us goes wild as the game begins. Tripp skates across the ice, stickhandling the puck with ease as he
weaved between defenders. As I sit in the stands, trying to ignore him but unable to take my eyes off his skillful play, I decide
that maybe I will just focus on his athleticism and his skillful moves. Clearly, he’s not going to help me with this piece, so I
will just have to write it as basic as I can. Taking out my phone, I started to take notes.
A guy behind me pumped his fist in the air, and I tore my eyes away from where I was writing. Tripp was gliding across the
ice at lightning speeds. His teammates were right behind him, bumping and moving the opponents as they tried to stop Tripp
from his mission. The crowd erupts in a wild cheer as Tripp lifts up his helmet, revealing his wide grin and sparkling eyes. He
pulls the mask back down and continues to skate down the ice, twisting and maneuvering his stick as he handles the puck with
control. As he approached the boards near where I was sitting, he wound up, flicking his wrist, and slapped a blistering shot
in the net. The goalie never had a chance as the puck rocketed into the top corner. A siren wailed as a red light flashed. The
crowd roared in appreciation while Tripp circled back, basking in the applause. Raising his stick up in the air, he throws off
his helmet once again and laughs as he celebrates with his team.
It was hard not to cheer along with everyone else – even if I felt like that puck was a missile launched straight for me.
Regardless of what a pain he was, Tripp was talented. He glanced up at me with that smug grin that sent shivers down my
spine.
“He’s totally looking at you,” Lacey giggles next to me.
“I doubt it,” I lied.
Giving me a wink, Tripp skated back toward the red center line, and the action resumed. A teammate passed him the puck,
and he stickhandled up the ice again, defenders giving him a wide berth. As he reached the blue line, he wound up for another
shot. Somehow, I got lost in the game, and my notes were long forgotten.
Just then, a defender angled him off, and Tripp lost control of the puck. It slid harmlessly toward the boards in front of me.
As it got closer, Tripp got it on his stick again, letting him give it one last whack, sending it straight for my head.
I gasped and recoiled as the puck struck the glass right in front of my face. The glass spider-webbed under the impact.
Screaming, I grabbed onto Lacey as a few other people in the stands ducked and jumped away. Thankfully, the glass didn’t
break, but I swear my stomach dropped.
“Good thing that glass didn’t break, or that puck would have hit you right in the face,” a guy I recognized from my Sociology
class slurred. “You must have good luck.”
“Yeah, great luck,” I intoned.
Tripp coasted by with a cocky, stupid smirk on his face. He blew me a kiss before skating off after the play. Narrowing my
eyes at him, I thought to myself, alright, it’s war now.
 Chapter 2

Tripp

“D ude,Jacecan’tScott,
you put your dick away?”
the goalie for our team and my best friend, stood in the center of the locker room, completely naked, while
the rest of us suited up.
“I’m just giving the people what they want,” Jace says, his face serious even though there is nothing serious about Jace.
“Well, the only people in here don’t want to see your STD-infested cock. Get dressed. We hit the ice in fifteen minutes.” I
scowl at him, but Jace knows I’m not really angry. We’ve known one another since we were in elementary school. The guy is
hilarious, and I wouldn’t want anyone else on my team or by my side even if he needs to learn how to put on some damn
clothes.
“Don’t be upset, Jace. Tripp here is just angry about the latest article about him.” Logan walks past us, his skates hung over
his shoulder.
“Dude, shut the fuck up about that. I don’t care what that trash says about me,” I roar out, though anger is flowing through me.
I haven’t exactly had positive press lately, and my coach has been riding my ass to change the public’s perception or some
shit like that. He says I won’t attract desirable teams in the NHL if the world thinks I’m a cocky asshole.
Patting me on the back, Logan offers a smirk as he heads toward the walkway to the ice. Most of the team is already on the
ice, but I like to take my time and get myself in the right headspace before a game. It’s been my dream to play professional
hockey ever since I first learned how to skate. I grew up in a shitty neighborhood with Jace and Logan. We met Topher when he
moved to our area, and he was always skating. One day, he took us to an ice skating rink and taught us how to skate. From
there, we became obsessed with hitting the ice and playing hockey. I don’t know where I would be today if he hadn't taken an
interest in us and kept us out of trouble. Most of the guys from our old neighborhood are in prison or dead, so to say we are
grateful is an understatement. Now, Topher is the assistant coach to our team and the reason we came to this university. We owe
him everything.
The vibe in the locker room is still pumping with energy. Last season, we had a tough season, but this year, we’ve had a good
start. I could already hear the crowd roaring outside, and I knew once I hit the ice, they would lose their fucking minds.
Suddenly, the locker room door creaked open, and a petite blonde slipped inside. She had a press pass dangling around her
neck and a girl with a wide grin by her side. They were both hot, but the blonde was one of the sexiest women I had ever seen.
She wasn’t showing off her tits and ass like most of the puck bunnies around here.
Too bad she worked for the press – which was notorious for writing nothing but shit articles and stories about me. "What are
you doing in here?" I asked gruffly. "No reporters allowed."
The girl smirked, nonplussed by my harsh tone. I almost got hard. "Just came to get a quote from the team's star player. Our
readers are dying to know more about the elusive Tripp. My name is Sadie, and I work for the University Press.”
"Yeah, well, I've got nothing to say." I glowered at her, hoping she'd take the hint and leave.
"Come on, give me something," she pleaded. "My editor will kill me if I don't get a story." The urge to give her a quote came
over me, but I pushed that aside. Regardless of how desirable she was, she was still the enemy in my eyes.
Damn, she was laying it on thick. Those blue eyes staring back at me told me she needed this, but I wasn’t in the business of
helping out those who wanted nothing more than to destroy my career. But fuck me, she was beautiful. Her thin sweater hugged
her tiny frame, and those jeans made her ass look incredible. Noticing me staring, she huffed and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Well…”
Fuck, she’s persistent, too. With a resigned sigh, I said, "Fine. I've played hockey since I was five years old. It's my passion.
And I intend to lead this team all of the way to the finals this year."
Sadie’s face lit up as she eagerly scribbled down notes in her phone. "See, that wasn't so hard. Was it?" Her tone was almost
sarcastic, and I didn’t like it one bit. Most women would die to be sitting in here with me. Hell, most try to sneak in before
games. But this chick – she doesn’t even really seem interested in me, just a story.
If Sadie wanted a juicy story, I would give her one. This girl had no idea who she was messing with, but I planned to show
her just who Tripp really was.
 Chapter 3

“W hatI were you thinking?”

knew I was in trouble the moment I saw the look on my boss's face as he held up my blog post from last night. Chad
ran the University Press, which had moved more into the modern era of technology and didn’t print newspapers.
Instead, we wrote weekly news articles that went straight to students' emails, the school website, as well as blogs and social
media posts. Students at Sunnyvale relied on us to give them their news and coverage over issues and brands they cared about.
When he texted me earlier that morning, demanding to meet me before class, I knew I was in trouble.
Playing coy, I acted like I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”
Shoving his phone in my face, I saw my latest blog post staring back at me.
Star Player lived up to his name last night – Tripping Tripp.
If you saw the game last night, then you witnessed the almost deadly mishap that Tripp, the self-appointed star player
of the Sunnyvale Hawks, made. What appeared to be a trip on the ice almost landed the player on literal thin ice. Maybe
the arrogant guy who seems to walk on water may have flaws after all. Want more information? Check out these videos
sent in from fans at the game.
Reading back my words, I felt a smile of accomplishment creep across my face. The vein on Chad’s forehead bulged, and I
couldn’t help but stare at it. For a guy only two years older than me, he seemed more like two decades older.
"Care to explain this?" Chad asked, his voice cold as ice.
I gulped, trying to come up with something, anything, to get myself out of this mess.
“Well, it is all true information. I mean, if you watch the videos …”
“I don’t want to see the videos,” Chad roars, throwing his hands up in the air wildly. “You were given one simple task,
Sadie. All I asked you to do was write an exciting article about a star player. I mean, the guy may be an asshole, but he is
worshiped by all of the females on campus. Couldn’t you just make him look good?”
I hate how Chad is chastising me right now. He may be my boss at the University Press, but he is still a student just like me.
But guilt creeps over me as I realize his anger is justified. I was being petty when I wrote that post. I knew exactly what I was
doing. Regardless if Tripp was a jerk or not, I had a job to do. I failed, and for that, I need to make this right.
Stuffing down my pride, I humble myself. “Chad, I am sorry. Tripp was a jerk when I interviewed him. I know that isn’t an
excuse. I will make this right, I swear,” I say.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Chad lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I will let this one go, but damn, Sadie, you need to
do better.”
I want so badly to remind him that he gave me this assignment – and one that I know absolutely nothing about. My entire
career so far at the press has only shown that I enjoy writing feature articles about travel, lifestyle, and current events. Why he
felt like I would enjoy writing a hockey star profile, I will never understand.
“I know, Chad. I promise, I won’t let you down,” I say, holding up my hand.
Rolling his eyes, Chad just waves me away. “Get to class, we will figure this out later.”

***
As I walk across campus to my first class of the day, I’m lost in thought. The sun was shining high above me, nestled in a
baby blue sky. It was another beautiful day, and I couldn't imagine how anyone could be angry living here. Deciding to attend
college in sunny California had surprised everyone I knew. Especially since all of my friends and half of the cheer team, which
I had been a member of since middle school, were accepted to the community college back home in Kentucky. I had never
veered away from my friends. We had all practically spent every day since kindergarten together, but now, I was clear across
the country in college by myself. However, I had secretly dreamed all of my life of going somewhere far away from my friends
and family money. I wanted to grow. To find myself. To meet new guys, not just the boys I had grown up with all of my life. Oh
yeah, and school was placed somewhere in that vision, too. Somehow, I had found the courage to do this and find the
excitement in what this journey held for me. I landed a great internship and needed to keep my role if I wanted to pursue a real
career in journalism after college. How could I write a story that would make Tripp seem wholesome? It was going to be a
challenge, given the negative view many seemed to hold of him. And, to be honest, my blog post last night didn't really help his
image either.
“Hey, press girl,” I heard shouted from behind me.
Turning, I spotted Tripp running toward me.
Oh shit, was I imagining this? There is no way Tripp would be yelling for me. And did he for real call me press girl?
“Are you talking to me?” I ask, stopping as he approaches me.
A few people slowly walk by, watching as the infamous Tripp moves past them. Damn, this guy really is admired and
detested on campus. The girls are ready to drop their panties for him, and the guys want to punch him. Watching all of their
reactions to his presence is entertaining.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you,” Tripp says angrily. “What the hell was that post about?”
So, clearly, he saw my blog post. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of my blog getting that much attention.
“What post are you talking about?” I ask, doing my best to feign innocence.
Tripp sweeps a hand over his head and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what blog
post I am talking about,” he yells, catching the attention of other students on campus.
Anger floods through me. I don’t know who the hell this guy thinks he is, but I will not let a man yell at me like this.
Stepping toward him, I close the distance between us, catching him off guard. “You are right; I do know what post you are
talking about, and I stand by what I said. You are arrogant, dangerous, and full of yourself. I should have written more, but I did
my best to censor myself,” I shouted back.
Tripp’s eyes go wide as he stares down at me. Until now, I didn’t realize how tall and muscular he really was. He towers
over me like an oversized tree, and maybe I should be intimated by his large presence, but I’m not. I know guys like this. They
think they are untouchable. They think they can talk down to those of us who they deem as not good enough. But little does
Tripp know, I am not the type of girl who allows any man to belittle her.
“You call that censoring? You called me arrogant and claimed that I tripped on the ice. You were at the game, so you know I
didn’t mess up,” he states, his jaw tensing as I can see the anger burning in his eyes.
Resting a hand on my hip, I pull out my phone and check the time. I have ten minutes before I am officially late to my class. I
hear Tripp exhale again, and when I look up at him, he seems agitated.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to class,” I sigh. “Look, I shouldn’t have added in the negative comments,
and for that, I am sorry. I should have been more professional, but you know that you sent that puck soaring for me. You were
rude when I tried to get an interview. I didn’t even want this assignment – I hate hockey and most sports. My boss threw this at
me to help you, a gift from your coach. I will retract my statement, but if you want better press, maybe try being more pleasant
to people.”
Clenching his jaw, Tripp just stares blankly at me. “I expect to see a new post.”
Done with Tripp and this conversation, I spin on my heel and start walking toward the English Department building. I refuse
to argue anymore, and it’s clear Tripp doesn’t respect anyone but himself.
“Where are you going?” Tripp yells from behind me.
I don’t bother turning back around, but I do offer him a pleasant one-finger salute as I continue my way to class.
 Chapter 4

Tripp

I s this girl for real?

Standing alone on the cobblestone pathway, I watch as Sadie walks away, and damn, she looks good. Her tiny hips sway,
causing my eyes to look straight at her perfectly plump ass. She’s wearing black leggings and a form-fitting white Sunnyvale
University t-shirt. Her tits look good in that shirt, too.
Fuck, why am I even looking at her? This girl is infuriatingly stubborn and just wrote a post that made me look like both a
clumsy athlete and an asshole.
Rubbing my jaw, I honestly don’t know what to do. I see a few people standing around, their phones out, and clearly, they
recorded our argument. Great, that will be on social media before I can even make it to class. I can’t believe Sadie did that.
I’ve never had a girl who I hadn’t slept with get pissed at me. Normally, most chicks are willing to do anything and everything
to get my attention, but with Sadie, she just seems hell-bent on pissing me off. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I pull it
out, I see my coach texting me.
Shit, this morning just keeps getting better.
Coach Carl: I need to meet with you after your classes today.
Fuck. Me.
Me: Ok, I will meet you in your office around 2:30.
Stuffing my phone back into my pocket, I glanced around at a few people who were still watching me. I give a guy who is
openly still recording me a deadly glare, and he quickly puts his phone away. Most people wouldn’t dare mess with me, but
this girl – she is not just messing with me, but my career.
As I stomp my way to my physiology class, I try to push my encounter with Sadie out of my mind. I just need to get through
my classes today, and then I can worry about everything else.

***

Stepping into the Coach’s office, I ready myself for a scolding.

Just the way he’s staring at his computer shows me he is pissed. When he finally glances up, he nods his head toward the
chair facing his desk. Hanging on the walls are years and years of pictures of championship teams he has led to victories.
Retired jerseys are displayed with shined trophies. The man is a legend and someone I have a healthy fear and respect for.
Coach Carl isn’t a guy to mess with. Even in his fifties, the man is built like a brick wall and works out every day. His salt
and pepper hair is shaved close to his head, like most of us young hockey players. In his day, he helped several college and pro
teams win championships. After a career-ending leg injury, he was asked to become the head coach at Sunnyvale University.
He takes his job seriously and treats us all like we are one of his kids – well, except his daughter, whom we have all been
warned to stay away from.
“Sit,” he grunts, picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip. Another thing about Coach Carl is that he drinks coffee
religiously.
Settling in the leather chair, I fold my hands in my lap and meet his gaze. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Don’t give me that ‘what’s up, Coach’ bullshit,” he shouts, and I jump on the inside. “Tripp, I told you how important it was
for you to make nice with that girl from the University Press. Couldn’t you just offer her one of those smiles that work on all the
other girls?” he asks, rolling his brown eyes.
“I really tried, Coach,” I reply, but I can see he doesn’t care what I have to say. “Her name is Sadie, and apparently, she’s the
only girl on campus who doesn’t think I’m charming,” I add.
“Well, there are others who don’t think you are charming. Here, let me remind you,” he yells, throwing papers at me. Some
land in my lap, and others fall to the floor. Quickly scooping them up, I see my name plastered across several headlines.
Tripp Stevens Hockey God or Devil in Disguise?
Campus Superstud Tripp Stevens Caught In Lewd Acts. My eyes glance over the photo of me tangled in a sheet with three
girls. Someone had walked in on a foursome we were having and took the pictures. At the time, I was too drunk to care. Now,
as I see my glazed eyes and how the photo must look to my team, a wave of shame burns through me.
I place the articles on his desk, and he grunts as he pushes them out of his view.
Shaking his head, Coach slams his cup onto his wooden desk. A few pens scatter, but he never stops staring at me. “I don’t
give a shit, Tripp. My job as your coach is to help you take your hockey career to the next level, but that will never happen if
you keep pissing everyone off. Sleep around. Have fun while you are young – I get that, but intentionally ruining your reputation
will get you to a farm team at best,” he roars out. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he takes in a deep breath and visibly calms
down. “That girl, Sadie, she’s supposedly one of the best writers they have right now. Her boss had to persuade her to take the
interview. Apparently, the guys who write sports articles are intimidated by you, and all of the other females only wanted the
job to sleep with you. This girl is the real deal. You may not get another chance, Tripp, but if you do, don’t fuck it up.” I hate
that he’s right. I screwed up this chance, and I know it. However, I’m not a quitter. I’ve been through more shit in my life than
anyone knows. I’m a fighter. A fucking champion. I won’t let Sadie stop me from changing the public’s perception of me,
especially knowing that pro teams won’t even bother to sign me if I can’t get my shit together. No NHL owner or franchise
wants a fuck up hindering their brand.
“You have my word, Coach. I will fix this,” I swear. For probably the first time in my life, I mean what I am saying. Hockey
isn’t just a sport to me. It’s my life. It’s my lifeline and the only shot I have of having a future. Hockey saved me as a kid and
brought me to college. I never would have been able to afford school if I hadn’t received a hockey scholarship.
“You better because the university and the Dean have been breathing down my neck. Either you fix this, or they may kick you
off the team,” he seethes.
I hear him loud and clear. A sobering expression comes over his face. I can see it written all over his expression. Coach is
mad.
Standing, I go to leave when Topher stops in the doorway. A look of disappointment crosses his face, and fuck, if that doesn’t
cause my heart to plummet to the pit of my stomach. I’ve let him down just as much as I’ve let Coach down.
“Tripp, I stuck my neck out to bring you and the guys here. My name and reputation are riding on you all. Don’t ruin this for
yourself,” he states flatly.
All I can do is nod. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I won’t know what to say. There have only been a few times in my life
when I’ve felt humility. This, right here, is the worst I’ve ever felt.
Whether I like it or not, I need to change and the first step I am going to take is apologizing to Sadie.
 Chapter 5

Sadie

“H ey,I tell me what happened?” Lacey whispers loudly as she nudges my arm.
had made the mistake of telling her I ran into Tripp outside as I quickly slid into my seat. Our professor walked in a
second later, and I had hoped Lacey would wait until after class before she began her interrogation, but of course, she
didn’t.
Staring ahead, I managed to say, “We can talk about it later.”
“You have to give me something,” she demands.
A girl sitting in front of us turns and shushes us, causing me to flip her off. She just rolls her eyes and then turns back to listen
to our professor. Lacey and I only have one class together, and it’s our Sociology course. It was an elective that I selected and a
class she chose only because I was taking it. Lacey keeps changing her major, so right now, she is in business management.
“Fine,” I begin, talking through clenched teeth. “He was pissed about the article. I’m thinking of writing something else,” I
state.
“Like what?” she asks, not even bothering to pay attention to the class.
Instead of talking and risking another nasty glare from a classmate, I pull out my phone and text her.
Me: Chad jumped all over me this morning, and then Tripp made it clear I was ruining his life. I will just write a story
that showcases him as being the hockey god he claims to be.
Lacey: Why do you care what Tripp thinks?
I stare at her question.
I know I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but I do. My post attacked him in a way, and as someone who wants to be viewed as
a professional in the journalism industry one day, I need to ensure that I don’t burn any bridges right now.
I type out one last reply and then turn off my phone, letting Lacey know that I am done with this conversation for right now.
Me: I don’t care what Tripp thinks, but if I want this to be my career, I have to eat crow and do the right thing.
Sinking in my seat, I return my attention back to the front of the classroom and hope that the class will go by quickly.
***
After my next two classes, I was still reeling from my encounter with Tripp. And Lacey had me thinking about why I should
even care what he thinks. I just need to create a trend-worthy story that doesn’t make him look like the ass-wipe he is. Huffing,
I move toward the cafeteria. The cafeteria buzzed with chatter and clanging trays as I made my way to the lunch line. My mind
raced, trying to conjure up a new idea for Tripp, but each one fell flat.
Venturing to the food court, I eyed my options for lunch choices. Most days, I bring a healthy lunch, but today calls for greasy
goodness.
The smell of pizza and french fries mixed with the sounds of muffled laughter and scraping chairs had me momentarily
forgetting about my worries. I grabbed a tray and shuffled forward, hoping inspiration would strike before I reached the front
of the line.
“Got any ideas?” a gruff voice spoke behind me.
Turning on my heel, I dropped my empty tray, which banged loudly on the tile floor. Everyone around us stopped what they
were doing and stared at me. Wanting to shrivel up and die, I slowly picked up my tray. My cheeks were flaming red as I tried
not to act embarrassed.
Standing next to me with a pleased smile on his face, Tripp chuckled. His piercing blue eyes were like a vast ocean I could
get lost in if I let myself. And trust me, I wasn’t about to sink in that ocean. His narrow jawline was filled with stubble, and as
he rubbed his jaw in amusement, I felt white-hot anger flood me.
I hated how he was enjoying this.
“What are you talking about?” I huffed, moving down the line.
I wanted nothing more than for him to get away from me, but it appeared like he was on a mission. How did he even know I
would be here? I didn’t think the jocks ate in the cafeteria.
“Did you get a new idea to make me look like a prince in the eyes of my fans?” he questioned, a smug grin on his face.
Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him. “Cocky much?”
“Not cocky, just honest,” he intoned, flashing those blue eyes at me.
“Uh, you are incorrigible. Couldn’t you wait and talk to me later? It hasn’t even been a full day since you accosted me,” I
snap.
“Whoa, you are throwing around a lot of big words there. Look, I saw you walking toward the cafeteria and thought I would
just stop by, say hello, and see if you had any ideas for the article. My coach has been breathing down my neck, and I know
your boss isn’t too happy with you either…”
Turning again, I hold up a finger, stopping him abruptly. “First of all, you brought all of this on yourself. Like I said earlier, if
you tried being a decent human being, you wouldn’t have any of these issues looking good in the press. Besides, my boss isn’t
angry with me,” I lied.
Narrowing his eyes at me, Tripp leaned in so close that I could feel his warm breath against my cheeks. My heart began to
flutter, and I hated how my body was reacting to his nearness.
“Tell yourself whatever you want, but I know, good and well, that you are going to rewrite a story for me. I think we should
plan a day so we can work on it together,” he adds, only intensifying my hatred for him.
“Are you serious?” I ask, cocking my hip as I seethe with rage. “You don’t know anything about journalism.”
“Seems to me like you don’t need to know a lot to do what you do. I can write a story about myself,” he says, winking as a
mob of girls walk by us. They flirtatiously wave, and my stomach churns. Great, now I’m going to lose my appetite.
“Absolutely not. I will write a story once I figure out how to make the town troll look like a prince,” I seethe.
Chuckling, Tripp starts to back away from the line, but then pauses and comes back toward me. “I’m not a prince, baby. I’m a
fucking king,” he whispers, leaning in so close that I feel his warm breath caressing my cheek. I hate how my body shivers
beneath him.
“More like the town fool,” I mumble, eliciting a chuckle from Tripp.
I scoot forward as the line continues to move. Tripp follows suit, doing his best to drive me insane.
“Whatever,” he says. “Anyway, I will find you soon, and we will get started on that article. I think once you get to know me,
you will find that you may just like me,” he adds, licking his lips.
Oh, hell no. I know Tripp isn’t insinuating that he can flirt with me and flash that charming smile, so I will be ready and
willing to sleep with him like the rest of the females at Sunnyvale.
Stepping closer to him, I push against his chest with my finger, and oh, holy hell. His chest is like a massive rock.
Solid and hard.
My finger lingers against his t-shirt far longer than it needs to. Tripp’s eyes follow my hand, and he looks back at me with a
knowing smile.
Damn, he already thinks he has swooned me.
“One thing you need to learn about me is that I don’t take orders from you. Just because you can skate around with a puck
doesn’t make you any better than me. I will work with you on this article because I have to – it’s my job, but that doesn’t mean I
have to like it or like you,” I snarl.
Finally, I remove my finger from his chest and step back. I hate the effect Tripp is having on me. He has this ability to rile me
up while making me want to run my hands all over his washboard abs. It’s like he has some crazy power over females.
“Say whatever you want, but once you spend time with me, you won’t be able to resist me,” Tripp states, and then he turns
and begins walking away, leaving me standing there with my mouth wide open in shock.
I have no idea how I will ever make him appear as wholesome and humble. Maybe I should just consider calling this one a
loss and claim defeat.
Hunger now long gone, I slam my tray on the counter and storm away from the prying eyes of those around me. Somehow, I
have found myself in the middle of a fucking sports soap opera with the entire campus as my audience.
I spend the rest of the afternoon in my classes, fuming and trying to do anything I can not to think about Tripp.

***
Once my day is over, I make my way back to my dorm room. Lacey has late classes today, so I have a little while to myself.
Throwing my bag on the floor, I head over to my twin-size bed. Each room in the dorm has two twin-size beds on opposite
sides of the room. Each half of the room had a small desk and closet area. When I arrived last semester, the room had been
freshly painted a light gray color and had a large window centered between the two beds that allowed a nice view of the sunny
campus.
My laptop was glaring at me. I knew that I needed to start working on a new topic, but I had nothing on my mind but how
much of an asshat Tripp was. Flopping on my bed, I close my eyes and release a heavy sigh. All I see is Tripp’s smug face in
my mind. The last thing I want or need is to spend any time with him. This is a job, something I need to do. So, I just need to get
something out there that will make both my boss and his coach happy.
Groaning, I padded across the room and grabbed the laptop. I stare at the blank computer screen. An empty page stares back
at me. I could write an entire novel about his charm, how he lights up a room when he walks into it, and how he carries
himself with such confidence. I can talk about his sweet talking and how great of a body he has…
Shaking my head, I close the device. If I start writing about Tripp’s personality it will quickly turn into what a player he is.
And, if I start talking about his body, that will turn into an erotic story that I don’t think my boss will approve of.
Lying back on my bed, I decide I don’t really have a choice but to spend time with Tripp in order to write this article. One
day. That’s it. Nothing more.
He’s got one chance to prove himself to me, or I will be forced to write the article based on my own opinions, and god only
knows, no one needs to hear what I’m thinking right now…
 Chapter 6

Tripp

I skate down the ice, my stick gliding with ease as we run through a couple of drills. After classes, I had my evening practice
with the team. We have a big game coming up, and Coach has been even more intense lately.
I skate over to the blue line and flip the puck to my teammate. He sends it back to me, and I push it ahead towards the other
players who are practicing their power play. We are all working hard, and I am doing everything I can to get Sadie out of my
mind.
I’ve never met a girl who can infuriate me and turn me on at the same time. My charm doesn’t seem to affect her, and I’m not
sure what to do with that. I always get what I want, especially with females. But not with Sadie.
What’s got me even more frustrated is how much I enjoyed the feel of her finger on my chest. It wasn’t lost on me that she
kept her finger against my chest far longer than she should have. I know she thinks I’m hot because, well, I am. But she was
fighting any attraction she felt.
“Tripp, what the hell, man?”
I hear my name shouted across the arena just in time to see the puck slide past my stick. We are scrimmaging in this drill, and
I just let the other team get a one-up on me. I never fucking slip up in practice.
“Sorry,” I shouted, pissed at myself.
I can’t let Sadie get to my head.
Skating up to me, Logan stops, and ice sprays over my practice jersey. The air seeps through my facial guard and freezes my
cheeks, numbing them. My skates squeak across the ice as I take a step forward.
“Dude, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Don’t do that, Tripp. You are screwing up our plays, and I can see the tension in your form.”
I can tell he’s not going to give this a rest. The thing is, I don’t even know what my problem really is. Ever since I met Sadie,
she’s had this insane ability to get under my skin and rile me up. I’m not the type of guy who lets anyone mess with their head,
and definitely not with my hockey skills.
“It’s nothing. Just let it go,” I say, starting to skate away. I’m not about to have some therapy sessions on the ice right now.
“Hey, if this is about the bad press, just let that shit go. Coach has a plan for that, right?” he yells after me.
I nod, but don’t bother to slow down. I make my way back over to the rest of my team, who look equally as pissed as I feel.
***
After practice, I feel like shit.
My muscles ache, and my head feels like I’ve been hit by a ton of bricks. All I want to do is go back to my dorm and fall into
bed. The guys from the team were talking about heading to a party, but I’m just not feeling it.
After showering and soaking in an ice bath, I grab my duffle bag and head out of the arena. When Sunnyvale University
decided to start a college hockey league, the Dean created a multi-million dollar hockey complex and brand new dorms for the
team players to live in. Apparently, there were several donors and residents in Sunnyvale who had been begging the university
to start a hockey team. A lot of people thought it was ridiculous, with Sunnyvale being a California coastal town, no one ever
thought a hockey team would bring in any fans or revenue. But all of the haters were wrong. Once word got out that the school
would be creating a hockey team, scouts from all over the country began bringing in star players they found in high schools.
Topher was one of the first players recruited, and his team led the first-ever Sunnyvale hockey team to several state
championships. The guys and I envied him, and when he told us to apply and send our tapes to the school, we didn’t even think
twice.
Now, I’m going to school on a sports scholarship – something I never thought would happen to a kid like me, and living in a
dorm bigger than the shit trailer I grew up in. I’m living like a fucking king, and I won’t ever go back to the filth I came from.
“Tripp,” I hear called behind me, and I can’t help but groan.
I already know it’s Jace before I turn around. His loud and boisterous voice booms all around me.
“Hey, man,” I say, though I don’t bother to sound pleasant. He knows from the shitty practice we just came from that I’m not
in a good mood.
Jace jogs to me, his shaggy brown hair bouncing all around his face. I don’t know how the guy does it. I keep my hair shaved
during the season because I can’t stand to have my hair in my face while skating.
“What is this I hear about you not going out with us tonight?” he asks, hopping all around me.
Shaking my head, I rub my shoulder where my muscle is still aching. “I’m exhausted and just need to get some rest,” I say,
which isn’t really a lie. My body is fucking sore and tired, but that has never stopped me before from going out and partying.
“Logan said you were all pissy during practice. Are you still upset about those articles? I thought Topher and Coach were
taking care of that?” he asks.
“Nah, I’m not going to let some stupid articles get to me. I’ve just been going hard lately, and it’s finally catching up to me.
Don’t worry, man. I will be out with you all this weekend,” I explain.
Jace eyes me carefully, and I can tell he wants to push me, but thankfully, he doesn’t. “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to
it,” he laughs, patting me on the back.
Once he takes off, more than likely heading to the bars that are walking distance from our dorms, I continue the short trek
across campus.
“Tripp,” I hear a female call out from behind me.
Groaning, I stop again. I’m not in the mood right now to talk to anyone, and I really just want to go home. I spot a familiar
girl sashaying up to me. She’s one girl who I‘ve hooked up with before but never bothered to call again. Hell, I can’t even
remember her name right now.
“Hey,” I say gruffly.
“Tripp, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” she says, flirting. “I’ve missed you.” She runs a finger down my arm, and I can’t
help but watch as she licks her lips seductively.
Moving out of her reach, I try to be patient. “Look, I’m exhausted. Maybe I will catch up to you another time,” I say, starting
to walk away.
This chick has other plans, though. She reaches out and grabs me, stopping me. “Tripp, we had fun last time we hung out.
Don’t you remember?”
I’m not really in the mood to deal with another puck bunny. “Not really, but I hang out with lots of women,” I say rudely. I
know I sound like a dick, but I can’t bother to care. All I want to do is get back to my bed.
When she gasps and looks as though I have ruined her day, I start moving again.
When I finally arrive in my dorm, I throw my bag down and head straight through the communal living room to my separate
bedroom.
Each of the dorms in our building was designed to look like small apartments customized with our own kitchens, living room
space, three or four bedrooms, and private bathrooms in each bedroom. The sharp lines and clean surfaces of the furniture
made me feel like I was living in a castle, even though it was only an apartment. Growing up, I could only dream of places like
this. Light gray walls and large windows overlooking campus make the rooms feel inviting, and the new leather couches and
flat-screen television in the living space are masculine but warm. I keep my room clean and tidy, a way I can truly show
appreciation for this life I have found myself in. Logan, Jace, and I share this dorm, but unlike me, these guys are complete
slobs. My king-size bed is made up, my black satin sheets folded nicely and neatly, just ready for me to fall into them. My
closet is lined with my clothes according to size and style. It’s all mine, and I know I need to appreciate it all.
Falling onto my bed, I close my eyes for a moment and let the day come crashing down on me. Within seconds, I can feel
sleep taking over, and thankfully, I don’t fight it.
 Chapter 7

Sadie

S taring at my computer screen, I stretch out my arms and wiggle my fingers.

I had finished typing my article an hour ago, and my fingers were still cramping, and my eyes were growing blurry, but I
was done.
I read over the article at least ten times, and now, I’m just staring at it, unsure if it’s ready to be sent to Chad or not.
I had been at war with myself on what to write. I couldn’t let another day go by with Tripp hounding me and knowing that the
guilt I felt over my last piece continued to eat away at me.
The words glared at me, almost bouncing off the screen. I had decided to write about how much Tripp and the team had
changed sports at Sunnyvale University. A focus on his commitment to athleticism was highlighted, but it was a very generic
article. I knew that it was safe enough to not gain me any more negative attention from my boss, but would hopefully do the
trick to get me assigned to a different task for my next piece. I was ready to jump back into writing about what I loved and not
cocky asshole hockey players.
“Come on, Sadie, just send the damn email,” I muttered to myself.
Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed the send button and then sat back in my chair and closed my eyes.
Waking up before dawn, I was now feeling the ramifications of rushing to complete this article. I had stayed up late last night
and then woken up super early to finish it before my classes.
Feeling relieved to have one thing off my shoulders, I quickly rushed to shower and dress in a pair of black leggings and a
red crop top, before grabbing a muffin and heading out to class.
Making my way to the Journalism building, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. When I retrieve it, I see a string of text
messages. Shit, I guess I had forgotten to turn the volume back on this morning. I had silenced my phone last night after locking
myself in my room to get the piece completed.
Chad: Update on your article? The Hawks coach is on my ass about this.
Lacey: I am going to hit up a bar with some girls from my business class. Can you take a break to join us?
Mom: You haven’t called all week.
Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I exhale a heavy sigh. Hopefully, Chad has received my article, so he should be appeased for
now. I had heard Lacey knock on my bedroom door last night, but I had turned on music, plugged in my headphones, and
disappeared from the rest of the world. I should have texted her back, but I will have to do that now. And my mom… I just
don’t have the energy to talk to her right now. My parents think my journalism passion is nothing more than a glorified hobby.
They don’t see writing as a lucrative career path. With both my mom and dad being attorneys, they had hoped I would follow in
their footsteps and get a law degree, but I never had any interest in law. I mean, I can argue with the best of them, but when it
comes to practicing law and everything it entails – I just found it boring. Writing and exploring new cultures and trends is what
really brings me excitement. Knowing I can’t ignore everyone any longer, I quickly rush out a few replies.
Me: Chad, you should have received my article this morning.
Me: Sorry about last night, Lacey. I tuned out the world and worked on my article. How about we go out tomorrow
night?
Me: Hey, Mom. Sorry, I haven’t been in touch lately. I will call you tonight.
I had just rounded the corner to my classroom building when disaster struck. I was so lost in my thoughts, distracted by the
conversations I was catching up on, that I hadn't seen the uneven part of the sidewalk. I stumbled, my phone flew out of my
hand, and skidded across the cement. I groaned and raced to go get it, but I was too late. Someone had already picked it up.
 I looked up into the face of the person who had retrieved my phone. I recognized him from one of my classes – Sociology, I
think. He had brilliant green eyes and a wide grin that usually seemed to be on the verge of laughter. I remembered them
because Lacey had pointed out how hot he was. She always has her radar turned on for hot guys. I expected him to hand me my
phone in silence or maybe snarkily remark about how clumsy I was.
But instead, he did something unexpected. He held out the phone with a smile and said, "This must be yours."
“Thanks,” I say, taking the phone from his hand. His finger glides along my hand, and I swear, I feel goosebumps creep over
my skin.
“Hey, don’t we have a class together?” he asks, his smile beaming.
“I think so. Sociology, right?”
He nods and grins again. Man, I could get lost in a smile like that.
“Sorry,” he begins, shaking his head and chuckling. “I’m Preston.”
“Sadie,” I say sheepishly.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” he says, his tone sweet. “You write for the University Press. You wrote that hilarious article on
Tripp,” he comments.
“Yep, that’s me. That article got me in the hot seat with my boss. I was up all night writing a new feature for Tripp and the
team. That’s why I was so clumsy and dropped my phone,” I explain.
“I loved that you just went for it and wrote something that made the campus god look more human,” Preston chuckles.
I feel my cheeks heat and my heart flutter. This is the first time anyone other than Lacey has said they liked the post I made
about Tripp that landed me in this mess.
“Really? Because most people didn’t like it. I guess he gets enough negative press on his own,” I state.
“Well, the guy could use a knock off his pedestal if you ask me,” Preston intones, shaking his head. “I mean, sure, he’s a great
athlete and hockey player, but he is constantly getting himself into fights on the ice, and the way he sleeps through women on
campus – he just doesn’t seem like a very respectable guy.”
“Are you real?” I joke. “I’ve never heard a guy not defend Tripp before.”
Preston is adorable and sweet. I honestly didn’t think guys like this existed. Most guys look at Tripp and envy him for
sleeping around and having a powerful status. It’s endearing to hear that Preston sees past all of that.
We start walking again, and Preston stays right next to me. We make idle conversations about the campus and the upcoming
semester. The sun was shining brightly in the morning sky, and a light morning fog still hung in the air. The world felt still,
suspended in a moment of peace. I had been so preoccupied the last few days that I hadn’t had a moment to breathe. This was
nice.
We reached the entrance to my classroom building, and Preston stopped and turned towards me, a smile on his face. He had
been so easy to talk to, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him.
"Would you want to go out sometime?" he asked, and my heart skipped a beat. “We could grab something to eat and share our
hatred of deplorable athletes,” he joked. I felt a thrill of anticipation that I hadn't felt in a long time. I smiled back at him and
nodded.
"Yes," I said. "I would like that." As we parted ways, I couldn't help but feel like my world had just changed, and maybe my
luck was finally starting to change.
 Chapter 8

Tripp

I can’t help but feel like a creeper right now.

I’m still standing transfixed as Sadie disappears into one of the classroom buildings, and the nerd she was just flirting with
turned and walked toward another building. The guy was wearing khaki pants and a light blue polo shirt. Who the hell dresses
like that on their way to class? My gray sweatpants and black fitted t-shirt are comfortable and what most guys seem to be
wearing to class, especially morning classes.
“What are you doing, Tripp?” Logan asks, walking up next to me wearing dark shades.
“Dude, why are you wearing sunglasses at eight in the morning?” I question, watching him take a sip of coffee from a local
diner. He looks like hell and smells like alcohol.
“Man, my eyes are burning. I think I slept an hour last night. We had a good time,” he chuckles.
Shaking my head, I secretly am happy that I turned down their offer to go out last night. We have an intense practice tonight,
and I would hate to show up hungover like Logan is. He will push through it, though, like he always does.
“Damn, sucks to be you,” I laugh.
“Seriously, what are you doing? Who are you staring at?” he asks, lifting his sunglasses and revealing red, bloodshot eyes.
“No one,” I grit out.
“Fuck that,” Logan says way too loudly. “You were watching that Sadie girl again. Do you like her or something?” he asks,
winking at me like he knows a secret.
“I wasn’t watching her. I saw her and was going to ask her about the article she was supposed to be fixing, but some dweeb
intervened,” I scowl.
Logan laughs at this. “Dude, you are a terrible liar. I get it, though, she is fucking hot.”
I slap him on the shoulder, knocking his sunglasses off his face. “Don’t even start with that shit. You know that I don’t fucking
date. Especially someone as irritating as Sadie. The girl has it out for me. You read that post she made.”
I cringe as I think back to how she humiliated me in the press again. It still makes me sick hearing my coaches are pissed at
me all because Sadie decided to get pissed off.
Moving down the sidewalk, I head to my first class of the day. I refuse to let Logan get under my skin. He’s known me most
of my life and knows that I hardly ever catch feelings for a girl. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated a few girls, but nothing was
ever serious. And those girls were obsessed with me. They did anything and everything I wanted. The last thing I need right
now is to like a girl who can’t stand me.
“Tell Sadie I said hello,” Logan calls after me.
I offer him the finger as I continue on to class.

***
Once my class is over, I rush out of the building in hopes of catching Sadie before she leaves. Most morning classes start and
end around the same time. My physiology class is next to the building I saw Sadie walking into, so I jog on over and wait.
Maybe Logan is right; I do look like a creep waiting for her, but I don’t have a choice. I need to know if she has made
amends with her article before I head to practice tonight. If Coach is still pissed, practice will be brutal for me.
After a few minutes, I spot Sadie walking through the double glass doors. When she spots me standing with my arms crossed
over my chest, I can tell she’s not happy. Even from a distance, I could tell she was agitated. When she looked up and spotted
me, her frown deepened, and a scowl appeared on her face. For some reason, this made me laugh.
 I walked over to her, the smile still on my lips. "Hey," I said, already feeling the tension radiating off her body. Even that had
me laughing on the inside. From the fury I could see building in her eyes, I didn’t dare to laugh out loud. "Just wanted to check
in on the article you were supposed to be writing."
Sadie stared at me, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" she snapped, her voice terse. "I told you I'm working on it. And I
don't need you hovering over me like I'm some kind of incompetent child."
I raised my hands in surrender. "I'm not trying to hover," I said in a calming voice. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay.
You seemed a little...stressed."
Sadie sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Look, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just...I've been stressed out over this. But you
will be happy to know that I wrote something and sent it this morning. I stayed up all night, so I’m not in the best mood. It
makes you look like a star, so you should be happy."
“Great, that’s what I wanted to hear.”
Her body immediately turns rigid as she pokes out a hip, and I can see the sass getting ready to spew all over me. “I hate
how pompous you are.”
This time, I don’t hide my laughter inside. “And I hate how crabby you are.”
Narrowing her blue eyes, Sadie looks as though she is about to explode. Fuck me, she is sexy as hell angry. I’ve never found
a woman attractive when they are pissed off, but Sadie just screams sex appeal. I would love to bend her over one of the
benches beside the building and fuck that sass right out of her.
“Maybe if you weren’t such an asshat all of the time, you wouldn’t find people hating you so much,” she yells.
Ouch, that one almost stings. I won’t admit it, but part of me knows that she is right. Some people love that I’m an asshole or
asshat as Sadie so eloquently stated, but I do know that others are growing tired of my shenanigans.
“Asshat? That’s a new one,” I tease.
“As much as I would love to stand here and share insults, I have to get to my next class before I’m late.”
Sadie starts to walk away, but I move forward, grabbing her gently by the arm and stopping her dead in her tracks. Her eyes
trail down to where my hand is around her arm and I immediately let go. “Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say
that I do appreciate you writing a new article. For what it’s worth, you are doing me a solid,” I tell her.
For a moment, I see some of that built-up tension inside of her subside, but just as quickly as it left, it reappears again. “You
are welcome, but I didn’t do it for you. I owed my boss the article he wanted, and I needed to set things right. Journalism is my
major and what I want as my career. Hopefully, this is the last sports article I have to write, so we won’t ever have to deal
with one another again.”
Again, I feel a sting that I can’t really decipher, but I know I don’t like the feeling of it. Why does she bother me? Why do I
almost feel upset that she doesn’t like me? Fuck, why do I want her to like me?
I have no idea what comes over me, but I take a step toward her and close the distance between us. When she gasps at my
nearness, I feel my dick growing hard, and I hope my sweatpants don’t show off the hard-on I’m experiencing.
“Why don’t you just admit that you might like me?” I ask her. Those blue eyes glow as they look up at me. She opens her
mouth and my eyes immediately travel to those beautiful, pink lips. Damn, those are the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen. I feel
myself moving closer until my lips are mere inches from hers. “I’m sure it was exciting for you to write about me. Just knowing
you were up all night thinking about me turns me on,” I breathe.
I swear, I see her shiver as she just stares at me. Then, my god, she bites her lip, and it takes everything inside of me not to
crash my lips to hers and drag her back to my dorm.
“The only thing I was thinking about was the idea that I would never have to see you again. But, it’s nice to know I affect you
so much. Maybe you like that I had to write about you, but it didn’t do anything for me, well that’s not true…” she pauses, and
for a second, I feel my heart starting to race. “I felt myself growing very, very –” she moves in, her lips now hovering over
mine, “ sick to the stomach.”
Suddenly, she jumps back and turns on her heel, those sexy hips swaying and her perfectly plump ass mesmerizing me as she
walks away. I don’t dare to move since I already know I have a raging hard-on right now. Thankfully, I hold my backpack in
front of me to hide the tent I’m sporting in my sweats. A smirk grows on my lips as I watch her sashay away. I had no idea what
she was going to say, but when she got close, and her voice turned velvety and heated, I swear I thought she might say she grew
wet thinking about me. That she touched herself to the idea of seeing me. But nope, not even close. This girl, who is far too hot
to handle, is going to be the death of me. Hopefully, I never have to see her again because if I do, I think I may fall in love with
her.
It’s tough to admit, but I may have just met my match.
 Chapter 9

Sadie

"W hatApparently,
the hell was that?” Lacey squeals, shoving her phone in front of me.
Tripp must have a fan club or campus paparazzi following him because we were photographed in a very
heated and compromising scene, and those pictures are now plastered all over Instagram and any other social media
platform that people use.
I try not to look at her screen, but she is literally pushing it into my face. I swat it away, but she just continues to hold it out in
front of her. “You two look so hot. I swear, I can feel the sexual tension just staring at the picture. Did he get hard?”
“Eww, shut up, Lacey!” I yell, finally pushing her hand away from my face.
I can’t deny the fact that we do look hot standing there, but the exchange was anything but sexy. Tripp has this innate ability to
piss me off but, at the same time, get me turned on. I would die before I admitted that I got a little wet looking at pictures of him
on the internet while writing my article. His washboard abs are perfectly defined from the years of skating and extreme
workouts. His arms are huge, and the muscles seem to pop out of every shirt he wears.
I’m sure I even drooled a little, adding pictures of him to the article, but I would never admit that to anyone.
I knew people had seen us this morning. Stares followed me the rest of the afternoon until I was finished with classes. To be
able to focus, I had turned off my phone. Now that I was making the trek back to my dorm, I turned my phone back on to see a
text from Chad.
Chad: Did you forget to come and see me? I need to talk to you about the article.
Sighing, I stop in my tracks. How had I forgotten to head straight to his office after class? Turning, I mumble to myself as I
stomp toward the Journalism building. I can’t tell from his text whether he is happy with the article or not. If he’s not, I have no
idea what I am going to do. My job at the press doesn’t pay, and I need the credit I will earn for passing. If I fail this class, my
parents will never let me hear the end of it. More than likely, they will force me into a different major. I swore, when they
agreed to pay for my tuition, that if I couldn’t make it in the Journalism program, I would give up my dream and get a degree in
a program they felt was more ‘realistic’ – their words, not mine.
I walked into the building, and my nerves were churning. I bit my bottom lip as I moved through the halls with articles
displayed proudly behind glass frames. As I was standing in the hallway, I heard a voice call out from behind me.
"I love your article!"
I turned to see Chad rushing towards me, a huge smile on his face. "My article?" I asked.
He nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it's great! The Hawks’ coach just called, and he raved all about it. Especially, the parts where you
talked about how hard the team works and how great Tripp is with his fans – it's all fantastic."
“Seriously?” I ask, shifting from foot to foot. I glanced around. This wasn’t some cruel joke, was it?
“Yeah, seriously!” Chad chuckled. “I mean, I knew you would do a good job, but I knew you weren’t too thrilled about this
assignment. You killed it!,” he raved.
I had worked hard on the article, staying up late and draining myself, but I wasn't sure I had done enough to get noticed or
make everyone happy. Pride and joy filled me. To make things even better, I won’t have to deal with Tripp anymore. I gave
myself an internal high-five at that.
“Well, that’s good to know. Hopefully, I can get back to writing my current event blogs and articles,” I say, feeling the weight
of the world released from my shoulders.
Shaking his head, Chad places a hand on my shoulder, and just like that, I feel a new weight shifting toward me. “No way,
Sadie. I’m keeping you on sports, specifically the Hawks. The coaches want you keeping an eye on the team to ensure his star
players keep good press.”
It takes a moment for me to take it all in. There is no way Chad is asking me to keep writing about sports. “Wait, why?” I
finally blurted out.
His eyes go wide, and I swear, he looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Sadie, everyone is talking about your article. Of
course, I am going to keep you on this assignment. If we can gain attention from some of the sponsors that fund the Hawks team,
maybe they will purchase advertising space on our website or newspaper. This could be a huge deal for our press,” he boasts.
As much as I want to tell Chad there is no way in hell I am going to keep writing about sports, I also know that I can’t let him
down, either. Our program is small, and he looks so happy.
“Ok,” I sigh. “I will keep doing it.”
“Why do you sound like your puppy just died?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Have you met the players on the Hawks team? Most of the Sunnyvale sports players are cocky, but these hockey guys are on
another level,” I state, rolling my eyes just thinking about them.
“Hell yeah, I’ve met them,” Chad yells, and then he moves in closer to me, whispering, “Those guys are absolute pricks, but
they are hot as hell and bring in a shit ton of money. This could open real doors for you, Sadie.”
His tone is gentle, but I hate how he’s making me feel like I’m selling my soul to the devil right now.
“I get that, but I don’t have a passion for sports. I have a true passion for lifestyle brands and writing about current events.
You know, things that people care about. Ideas that actually matter.” I huff as I move toward his small office.
I flop down in the worn leather chair in front of his tiny wooden desk. Chad follows me into his office and sits in his chair
which has seen better days, too. Unlike other buildings and complexes on campus, the Journalism building hasn’t been updated
or refurbished in decades. All of the furniture is old or hand-me-downs chair,from the buildings that were revamped.
“You know, for a lot of people, sports are important. You could use this as a stepping tool into the media world. A lot of
sports journalists travel the world, and after a few years, they switch over to writing topics they are passionate about.
Everyone has to pay their dues,” he explains.
For someone who is only two years older than me, Chad sure does seem very sage and full of wisdom right now.
“Fine, I will do it, but I won’t like it,” I say, pouting.
Laughing, Chad just rolls his eyes at me. “You better be glad that I adore you,” he jokes.
“Sure,” I snort.
I stand, knowing that I can’t run from this opportunity. As much as I detest Tripp and the thought of spending the rest of the
semester writing about a hockey team, I know Chad has made some valid points. I just need to buck up and remember that this
is only a stepping stone to something far bigger and greater for myself.
As I step out of his office, I hear Chad yell from behind me, “Just stare at the sexy guys and everything else will be fine.”
If only it were that easy.
***
“How about that date?” I hear called from behind me.
Turning, I spot Preston walking up to me. I had just left the Journalism building and was a mix of emotions. When he reaches
me, he’s holding out his phone. “I never got your number, but I’ve been following your articles.”
My heart flutters as he nears. “Hey,” I greeted him.
“So, how about I take you out to celebrate?” he asks, winking.
Preston is adorable and sweet, and a date does sound nice, but why am I not feeling super excited about this? Any other girl
would be jumping at the chance to go out with a guy like Preston.
“Sure, that sounds nice.” I gave him my cell phone number, and we decided to go out that evening. Just as I’m putting my
phone away, I spot Tripp walking our way with a girl wrapped around his arm. When our eyes meet, he gives me a strange
glance but doesn’t stop to give me a hard time like usual. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I can’t worry about Tripp right
now. I’ve got another guy wanting my attention, and I’m going to choose the right guy.
***
Preston and I strolled into the cozy diner on campus, its walls adorned with faded movie posters and neon signs. We are
enveloped in the comforting aroma of sizzling fried food and rich, freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With a
chivalrous gesture, he held the door open for me, and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his small kindness. As
we settled into a booth by the window, the sunlight was streaming in and casting a warm glow over our faces, and I couldn't
shake off a sense of unease despite Preston's sweet and attentive demeanor. Though this was our third date, something just
wasn't clicking between us.
We chatted effortlessly about school and our lives, but as he shared his plans for the future with me, I found myself drifting
off into thoughts of what it would be like to be truly swept off my feet. Preston was a gentleman, and I couldn't shake off the
feeling that something was missing.
We settled in and made small talk about our classes and upcoming exams. Preston told me about his plans for after
graduation, his eyes lighting up with excitement. But even as I listened, I couldn't help but wonder if this was really what I
wanted. I wished I could find someone who ignited a fire within me instead of just going through the motions with someone
who checked all the boxes.
As we finished our meal and made our way back to campus together, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
Preston was a good guy, but I simply couldn't force myself to feel something that wasn't there. Deep down, I knew I needed to
be honest with him before things went any further.
I smiled and thanked him for the wonderful date. Maybe one day I would find someone who made my heart race with
excitement, but for now, Preston was a pleasant diversion from reality. He was a great guy, but I couldn't force myself to feel
something that wasn't there. For now, he was a kind and caring distraction from my search for true love.
“I had a great time,” Preston says, standing outside of my dorm.
“Yeah, it was fun,” I say, feeling disheartened.
“How about another date?” he asks, with hope in his eyes.
I glance down, unsure of how to respond. “Preston, you are such a nice guy, but I don’t think I am looking for anything
serious right now.” It’s not really a lie, but I’m not sure if it’s the truth either.
An angry look crosses Preston’s features. “Is this about Tripp?” he asks angrily.
“What? No. Why would you ask me that?” I almost yell out.
“You know he sleeps with every girl on campus. I saw him yesterday with some girl all over him. All you would ever be is
another puck bunny to him,” he shouts at me.
I step back as though he has assaulted me. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I hate how he dismisses me like this.
“I’m glad I got to see how you really are,” I yell back. “You need to leave.”
Preston goes to say something but thinks better of it. Throwing his hands up in the air, he storms away, leaving me standing
alone in the dark.
 Chapter 10

Sadie

“I can’t believe you are upset about this!” Lacey shouts from her bedroom across the hall. “And, how did you score a date
with Preston? He’s like the perfect bachelor.”
I hadn’t had a chance yet to tell her about my terrible date with Preston.
I added some light rose gold eyeshadow as I applied the final touches to my makeup. Sitting in front of my vanity, I stare
back at my reflection. My long hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and my lips are a glossy pink color. I chose a red crop top
and skinny jeans for tonight.
After my impromptu meeting with Chad, I felt like I could use a night out. Plus, I had promised Lacey I would make it up to
her and go out with her. I definitely need to unwind, and since it’s Friday night, there will be several campus parties where I
can do just that. Of course, Lacey already knew of several taking place, so she jumped at my suggestion to go out.
“You know I can’t stand Tripp,” I yell back, standing and grabbing my phone off the vanity top. “Also, Preston was a
complete dud. He wasn’t who I thought he was.”
I pad over to her bedroom and whistle when I see Lacey standing in front of me, a black leather dress hugging her slim
figure. She’s slipping her feet into a pair of black Chanel heels, and she looks smoking hot. If I were a guy, I’d hit it.
“Damn, you look hot,” I cat-call.
“Duh, I know that,” Lacey giggles. “Now, don’t try and flatter me to change the subject, even though we both know that I love
a good compliment. I think you don’t like Preston because you and Tripp have some weird sexual tension going on. I mean, it’s
super hot but strange at the same time. Maybe you just need to fuck him and see if that changes how you feel about him.”
Her suggestion only makes my stomach churn. Rolling my eyes, I stare at my best friend, who has clearly lost her mind. I
don’t bother going into detail about what Preston said.
“I’m not some puck bunny,” I declare, shaking my head in disgust.
Lacey laughs as she starts to head down the hallway. I follow behind her, stuffing my cell phone in my small clutch I grabbed
for the evening. “Look, you are even starting to get a hang of the hockey jargon.” Pausing at the front door, she turns to face me
and I almost stumble into her. “We both know you could use a good lay. Just think about it,” she says, opening the front door.
Standing in the doorway, my mouth hangs wide open. Sure, it’s been a while since I had sex. Far too long to admit, but that
doesn’t mean I should just sleep with the first sleazy hockey player I meet. Stepping outside and closing the door behind me, I
offer a silent prayer that I will be able to forget about Tripp tonight and just have a good time.
***
Loud music pulsates all around us. Lacey and I didn’t have to walk too far to find one of the many parties taking place
tonight. Just one block over from our dorms, we found where several small houses on a tree-lined street, each house full of
college students. My heels clank against the pavement as Lacey and I head toward the first house on the street. Bright strobe
lights reflect off the street lights, and a few guys mingle on the porch of the single-story bungalow.
“Hey,” a guy shouts, waving to Lacey.
She waves back, smiling and giggling as she approaches the porch. “Hey, Brock.”
Of course, Lacey knows this guy. Being a natural flirt and socialite, she literally knows everyone.
“Glad you could make it tonight,” Brock says, handing her an unopened can of beer.
He barely notices me as he slightly nods my way. When Lacey is around, guys seem to forget I even exist.
“This is my friend, Sadie. She really needs to let loose and have a good time,” Lacey interjects, giggling at my expense.
Part of me wants to crush that can against her head, but I don’t. Brock smiles and throws me a beer, which I happily catch. I
don’t usually like beer, but tonight, it seems like I’m going to need a lot of alcohol to get through the night.
“Well, you all have come to the right place. We’ve got a shit ton of drinks, music, food, and several of the university’s sports
teams are mingling around.” He chugs his beer as Lacey thanks him and leads me inside of the house.
Once inside, I am assaulted with more loud music as people dance around the living room. All of the furniture has been
pushed up against the walls, and several other people talk in the halls, sipping their drinks as they watch the dancers jive up
against one another. Straight ahead, I can see into the backyard, where a large concrete patio hosts more people who lounge
next to an in-ground pool. I watch as a guy clad in only a pair of black boxers jumps into the pool, splashing a group of girls
sitting on the edge. The sounds of thumping bass and laughter filled the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and sweat.
People danced in large groups to catchy pop songs while others spoke softly among themselves in the dimly lit room. I made
my way towards the swimming pool area, which was bathed in a neon glow, casting an eerie light on everything it touched. The
crowd there was sparser but just as lively, with a row of plastic beer pong cups lined up impeccably on tables. A group of
people were huddled around, shouting and cheering excitedly as they took turns throwing ping-pong balls into the cups. I
approached them and asked to join, enjoying the feeling of camaraderie as we played together under the sweltering heat.
“Hey, this looks fun!” Lacey shouts as she makes her way to our game. “
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I laugh, throwing a small white plastic ball toward a red solo cup. I miss, and the group
around me shouts for me to take a drink of my beer.
I take a sip and cringe at my choice. Why in the hell had I taken this beer? I don’t even like beer.
“Can I join the fun?” a male voice asks.
I spot a cute guy with curly blonde hair sidling up to the makeshift table. I recognize him from my journalism class.
“He’s cute,” Lacey whispers in my ear as she nudges my side.
She’s right, but the last thing I want to think about tonight is another cute boy. Any cute boy, for that matter.
“Hey, sure. I’m not very good at this, so I expect to lose,” I laugh as the guy moves to stand next to me. He smells really
good, and his smile is captivating.
“You’re Sadie, right?” he asks, picking up the small ball and throwing it. To my surprise, he lands the ball in one of the cups
and the other team has to drink. “I’m Alex.”
“Yeah, I’m Sadie. Hey, you are good at this,” I admire.
“I’ve played a few times. My frat house has this game playing constantly,” he laughs.
So, he’s a frat boy. Definitely not my type, but he’s cute and good at this game, so I will let it slide for now.
The other team throws, and they miss. It’s my turn, and I try to throw the ball straight ahead, but once again, I miss. Alex
picks up his drink, and we cheer as we each take a swig. “So, you are writing the sports editorials for the hockey team now,”
Alex says.
Ugh, I really didn’t want to talk about work or hockey. “Yeah, for now. Hopefully, it’s just a short gig,” I say, though I doubt
that will be true.
“I was hoping to land that role,” Alex says, and I hear a hint of anger behind his words.
“I wish I could give it to you,” I explained honestly.
“It must be nice getting to work up close and personal with the team. Especially with Tripp. The guy is trouble, but no doubt
he’s an amazing hockey player.”
“He’s alright.” I shrug and look around. I’m done with this conversation and this game.
Turning to Lacey, I point toward a row of chairs by the pool. I see a chair open, and it’s calling to me. Sitting outside with a
drink and listening to music seems right up my alley. “Hey, I’m going to go grab a chair by the pool,” I shout to Lacey.
“You don’t want to play anymore?” she asks, glancing between the game and Alex.
“Nah, I’m getting a buzz now and just want to chill,” I tell her.
“Ok, I’m going to walk around and see if I can find more people I know. Half of my design class is supposed to be here
tonight. I told them I would meet up with them when I got here,” she states, looking around the space. “I’ll text you if I can’t
find you later if you decide to move, but at some point tonight, I’m going to drag you out to dance with me,” she adds before
sashaying through the crowd.
I push my way through the sea of people over to the pool patio. A few people look my way, but I don’t recognize anyone. A
few guys who look like they could be football players splash around in the pool while I head over to the chair.
Sipping the cold beer, I watch everyone around me with amusement. This is exactly what I need right now—a low-key night
without the pressure of homework, deadlines, or my parent’s constant questioning. Once I get enough alcohol in me to make me
not care anymore, I will dance with Lacey, but for now, I’m staying put.
I feel a large presence next to me, and before I even turn my head, I already know who it is.
“Didn’t like beer pong?” a familiar voice questions.
Ugh, really? How does he always find me?
I sit up straight. “Are you here to give me another juicy story to write or to just be a pain in my ass?” I snapped at him.
I see him cringe as though I had just slapped him across the face. He looks at me for a moment, and I swear, I see the anger
building inside of him.
“Go ahead, write your story about me – the fuck up. The king who is about to lose his crown,” he shouts, causing a few
people to turn our way.
“That's not what I want,” I cry out. I lower my voice and wince.
“Well, I am here because it’s a party with lots of willing people to spend time with,” Tripp says, winking and licking his
lips. There he is, the wicked guy I love to loathe.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I sink lower in my seat. “Why are you over here? Shouldn’t you be finding your next conquest or
causing havoc somewhere?” I begrudgingly say .
Tripp only laughs, completely ignoring my insults. “The night is still young. So, I hear we will be spending a lot more time
together,” Tripp says, smirking as he sips on a long-necked bottle of beer. “How will your new boyfriend handle that?” he
questions, winking. He squats down next to me, and his large frame almost overtakes the space. I feel tiny in comparison to
him.
“Not sure what you are talking about,” I quipped, not bothering to look at him. I keep my head forward and pretend to care
about the game of chicken now being played in the pool.
“Which part?” he chuckles.
“All of it.”
“No one told you?” he asks, a sly grin crossing his too-handsome features. God, I hate how sexy he is. “The team wants you
to be our official reporter.”
That’s not what Chad said, but Tripp most definitely was informed that I am now being forced to write more sports articles. I
hate how much he seems to be enjoying this.
Finally, turning to face him, I watch as the lights from the pool cascade across his face. He seems to glow against the
blackness of the night, and holy shit, he’s even more handsome. His strong jaw is highlighted and those piercing eyes – I need
to stop thinking about his face right now. I’m not even drunk yet, so I can’t blame it on the alcohol.
“I think you got your facts messed up. I will be writing articles about the team, not specifically you,” I inform him. “And I
don’t have a boyfriend.”My frustration only seems to please him more. He places a hand on my knee, and I swear, an electric
surge jolts right through me. My eyes lock on him as he smiles back at me. Narrowing my eyes, I huff, but he doesn’t move his
hand.
“It would help, though, you know, spending time with me,” he smirks. “And, since you don’t have a boyfriend, we don’t have
anything to worry about. You were, however, getting cozy with that guy the other day,” he says, alluding to Preston.
I’m not sure why he even cares.
“What about your girlfriend? I’ve seen you with the same girl a few times,” I retort.
“I’ve got lots of women but no girlfriends,” he says, licking his lips.
Done with this conversation, I stand, forcing Tripp to move his hand away from my knee. I down the last bit of beer and then
look at Tripp. I start moving when I hear Tripp yell my name.
“Come on, Sadie. I think we both know a little time together would help you change your mind about me,” he laughs, causing
my blood to boil.
“I don’t need to spend any time with you. I just need to write about the team,” I argue, moving through the crowd as I attempt
to get as far away from Tripp as possible.
“You can run, but you can’t hide forever,” he shouts, laughing from behind me.
Storming back into the house, I search for Lacey and another drink.
 Chapter 11

Sadie

“H owAfter
many drinks have you had?” Lacey asks, as I twirl around her.
my conversation with Tripp, I found Lacey in the kitchen, where a girl with hot pink hair was playing bartender.
She was now my second best friend as she continued to serve me fruity drinks that didn’t taste anything like alcohol, but
had me feeling weightless.
“No clue,” I giggle.
A loud song plays over the speakers as several girls and guys dance all around us. Throwing my hands up in the air, I let my
head fall back as I enjoyed this moment of absolute freedom.
“Maybe it’s time to slow down,” Lacey offers, leaning in close to me. My eyes are closed as I allow my body to dance
freely, my hips swaying, my hair flying all around me. “You know I love it when you finally have fun, but you are going to wake
up tomorrow with a massive hangover.”
I should probably care and listen to her warning, but I just can’t seem to remember why. Another song begins to play, and my
eyes shoot open as I clap my hands wildly. “Oh, I love this one!”
“I need to take a break,” Lacey laughs, her body slowing down its dancing. “My feet are killing me, and I think I am going to
switch over to water now.”
“Boo, you are no fun,” I whine, dancing in circles around her.
“Whatever, I will be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” she instructs, but I just wave her off as I turn around and continue
moving my hips to the beat of the song.
Suddenly, a pair of strong hands wrap around my waist, and I’m being pulled against a hard chest. Smiling, I turn my head
slightly to see the guy, Brock, from the front porch.
“We didn’t get a chance to talk earlier,” he whisper shouts into my ear. He pushes his cock against my hip as he grinds into
me from behind. Brock is super hot with short brown hair, brown eyes, and a broad smile, but for some reason, I don’t feel
anything dancing with him.
“Yeah, I was with Lacey. No one sees me when I’m with Lacey,” I slur, and I can’t understand why my words sound so
funny.
“Well, I see you now,” Brock grunts into my ear.
I move to get out of his grip, but he only clutches my hips tighter. Something feels off about this, but I don’t know what.
Where is Lacey? Maybe I should go look for her.
“I think I need to find Lacey or get another drink,” I say, as I manage to swivel around and face him.
His hot breath races down my neck as he pulls me in closer. I feel trapped, and my stomach now feels queasy. Yeah, I really
don’t like this.
“How about I get you another drink, and we can go to my room and talk,” Brock suggests.
My legs suddenly feel numb, and all I want to do is lie down. “Where is your room?” I ask, but I feel like my words only
come out as a jumbled mess.
Brock takes me by the arm, starting to lead me away from the dance floor. Hopefully, he takes me someplace where I can
sleep. I really need to sleep right now.
“Whoa, where are you going?” I hear from behind me, but I‘m too sleepy to even turn my body.
“We are just going to find a place for her to get a drink,” Brock says, though he doesn’t sound all flirty anymore. There’s an
edge to his voice that makes my stomach drop.
 “Where’s Lacey?” I ask, but I’m not sure if I said the words aloud or in my head.
“She looks pretty drunk to me. Maybe just leave her out here,” a familiar voice says.
Is that Tripp?
Why would he be talking to Brock?
“Hey, what happened to Sadie?” I hear Lacey squeal.
With my head swimming and my eyes barely able to focus, I feel like I can’t stand anymore. Maybe if I just go to sleep, I will
wake up and feel much better. That’s the last thought I have before everything goes black.
 Chapter 12

Tripp

H owI’mthenothellsome
did I get myself in this situation?
fucking white knight who searches for a damsel in distress to save. But here I fucking am, playing the part
of the good guy when we all know I am far from good. I can’t help but stare at Sadie as she lay reason,blackout on the ground,
completely unconscious. Her long hair is splayed all around her face, and that tiny body of hers looks so soft against the
hardness of this party. She's so goddamn beautiful it almost hurts, but I can’t seem to look away. She’s like a tragic
masterpiece. So beautiful, but oh, so very wrong – especially for a guy like me.
“Did she faint? Oh my god, is she okay?” Sadie’s friend kneels next to her, hysterically crying. When she looks up at me,
mascara running down her face, I already know that I’m in fucking trouble.
“How much has she had to drink?” I ask, not bothering to focus on Brock or the girl.
“Brock, did you give her anything?” the girl questions, and suddenly, I feel an intense need to punch Brock in the face.
I’ve known Brock for a year now. He’s on the wrestling team, and we’ve worked out together a few times. He’s a decent
enough guy, but I know far too well that people will do just about anything to get laid.
“Lacey, come on, you know better than that. She was downing drinks left and right,” Brock says, shaking his head in anger.
So Lacey is Sadie’s friend.
“Enough. Will you both just shut the fuck up. We need to get her up off the floor. Where does she live?” I shout, causing both
Brock and Lacey to look at me with blank stares.
“We live just around the corner, but I can’t carry her there,” Lacey cries.
I look at Brock, but he just shrugs. Sadie is nothing more than a drunk chick at one of his parties, and I don’t even bother
asking if he can help. Nervously, I glance around the room. I’ve had a couple of beers, but not enough that I can’t drive.
“I’ve got my Jeep here. I can drive you all home,” I offer, almost instantly regretting the words as they stumble out of my
mouth.
“Looks like you’ve got this handled. If she pukes, let me know so I can get someone to clean it up,” Brock states, quickly
retreating before any of us can respond.
My thoughts on this guy just fell a shit ton. I don’t blame him for not wanting the drama, but damn, he was about to take Sadie
to his room. Just the thought of him being alone with her causes my body to tense. I don’t know why I care, but for some reason
I do.
“We can get into trouble if our dorm manager catches Sadie like this. We have a strict policy that if we come home after
midnight, we can’t be intoxicated. She can’t even walk,” Lacey cries, lifting Sadie into a sitting position.
Sadie’s small body slumps against Lacey, and I huff as I realize I’m going to have to carry Sadie to my Jeep.
“Where else can I take you? Do either of you have boyfriends or friends you can crash with?” I ask, praying she says yes.
Lacey manages to get Sadie standing, but she is leaning against a wall, and Lacey is clearly struggling to hold her upright.
Everyone around us just keeps dancing and partying. No one offers to help or seems to care about the girl passed out in front of
them. I guess this is a common occurrence at parties like this.
“No. I left my phone at the apartment, and we are single.” I see the worry on her face.
Running a hand down my face, I bend over and grab Sadie, lifting her up and throwing her almost weightless body over my
shoulder. “You can sober up at my place. This isn’t a good look for Sadie,” I growl out.
I’ve never let a chick stay overnight at my place. Hell, most girls just fuck me and then are ready to leave and tell all of their
friends about it. But Sadie is different. We are – hell, I don’t know what we are. Not friends. Sort of colleagues, I guess. All I
know is that I need her to keep making me look good in the press, and that won’t work if she gets in trouble with the school for
being black-out drunk.
“I don’t know about this,” Lacey calls out as I begin walking through the party, looking for the front door. “Sadie is going to
be so pissed.”
I turn around, almost hitting Lacey with Sadie’s heels as I have her thrown over my shoulder. “You Hopefully,either let me
get you all someplace safe for the night or stay here and take your chances with the prying eyes with cell phones,” I snap.
Lacey stumbles back as though I just hit her. I can tell she’s considering her options, but we both know that right now, I am
their only choice.
“Fine,” she huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. My eyes take a second to appreciate the cleavage poking out of her
tight top. Lacey is a beautiful girl but she doesn’t hold a candle to Sadie. While Lacey seems to beg for attention with her tight
clothing, Sadie has this modest beauty that draws you in despite yourself.
We make our way out of the party and I scowl at a few people who are openly taking photos of us. I know this will be all
over social media, and the coach will be pissed. Hopefully, I can explain myself before too much damage is done.
I find my Jeep parked just a few houses down, and when I go to put Sadie in the front seat, her small frame slides easily onto
the leather passenger seat. Lacey hops in the back seat as I hurry to get into the driver's seat.

“You two can have my room, and I will sleep on the couch. Once we get inside, just take Sadie to my room and close and lock
the door,” I explain as Lacey fumbles with the seatbelt.
“Ok. We can sleep on a couch or something,” she offers, but I can tell she doesn’t mean it.
“Nah, I have roommates who are out tonight. They will come home early in the morning, and I don’t want you all there when
they do,” I explain.
While I would never think my friends would ever take advantage of a girl while she was drunk, I do think that their loud and
rowdy ways could scare the girls. Not sure why I care, but for some fucked up reason, I do.
I pull up to my dorm, which is more like a luxury high-rise, thanks to the sponsors and donors of the athletics department. I
cut off the engine just as Lacey whistled.
“Damn, what is this place?” she asks, the scent of tequila wafting off her breath.
I don’t respond as I get out of the Jeep and rush over to Sadie’s side. She is still passed out, but now she is snoring. It’s cute,
and I have no idea why. Maybe I’m drunk, too, because a sober Tripp would never think a girl snoring is cute.
I lift her out of the seat, and this time, I cradle her in my arms. She’s weightless as her body just hangs in my arms. Lacey
rushes to catch up to me as I swiftly walk up the walkway and into the building. Once inside, we get on the elevator and head
up to my suite.
Unlocking the door with one hand is a challenge, but not as much as it is to fight the urge to run my nose down Sadie’s neck.
She smells like vanilla and lavender, and all I want to do is memorize that scent. It feels like home and I’ve never known that
feeling before.
We make our way down the hall and to my room, and the entire time, Lacey is eyeing me carefully. Not in the “I want to fuck
you” way that most girls watch me, but like she knows something. A secret.
“You guys can take the bed,” I offer, as I gently place Sadie on my bed.
Fuck, why do I like the sight of this girl in my bed?
“You like her, don’t you?” Lacey says, making it more of a statement rather than a question. She sits on the edge of the bed
and moves some of Sadie’s hair out of her face. It’s a sweet moment, and I can tell they have a strong friendship.
“Who?” I ask, as I back away from the bed.
“I see how you look at her. And tonight, you didn’t have to intervene and help us. Why did you do it?” Lacey asks me.
Rubbing my jaw, I glance around my room. This conversation is too serious and uncomfortable for me. “It’s not what you
think. Sadie is helping me. That’s all. She looked like she needed help, so I did her a solid. It helps the both of us,” I lie.
I knew that if I hadn’t stepped in tonight, Sadie could have possibly gone to Brock’s room, and – I can’t even finish that
thought.
“Whatever. I won’t say anything, but if you like her, you should tell her,” Lacey adds, kicking off her heels and crawling into
bed next to Sadie. She glances down at her friend and then looks back up at me. “Lock the door behind you,” she reminds me as
I move to the doorway.
Lacey curls into Sadie, and before I can even start to close the door, she is passed out, too. I stare at Sadie as she lay on my
bed. Her soft features are highlighted by the slight glow of the moonlight filtering in through my window. She’s a fucking angel,
and here I am, the devil, watching her from afar. I have no right to have any feelings for Sadie. But damn, if she doesn’t make it
hard to want to be near her. That feisty attitude and gorgeous looks– she is irresistible.
Sighing, I force myself to close the door and pad into the living room area. Crashing on the couch, I stare up at the ceiling
and wonder what in the hell I’m going to do about these feelings I now have for Sadie.
 Chapter 13

Sadie

W hyGroaning,
is my head pounding?
I slowly open my eyes only to find that I am not in my bedroom. Panic takes over as I sit up, instantly
regretting the decision. White walls surround me, and the scent of sweat and a male cologne assault my senses.
Nervously glancing around, I release a silent prayer when I realize that I’m still fully clothed. Lacey is curled up next to me,
and she is snoring loudly.
“Look who decided to wake up,” a gruff voice says.
Shooting up in the bed, I grab my head as an insane pounding takes over. I feel like someone is taking a hammer to my skull
right now. And, to make matters worse, Tripp is standing in front of me. Clad in only a pair of black running shorts, his
muscular form takes up the entire doorway.
“Where the hell am I, and why do I feel like death?” I ask, but my voice is dry and rough.
“You got wasted last night and passed out at the party. Lacey couldn’t take you back to your dorm, so we just brought you
here,” Tripp says, a wide smile growing on his face.
Why is he loving that I’m in pain and panicking right now? God, he is such a jerk.
“Where is here?” I question again.
“My dorm. Specifically, my bed,” he taunts.
Oh. My. God.
I’m sleeping in Tripp’s bed. Crawling out of the covers, I jump off the bed, and I have to reach for the wall to keep myself
from falling over. Ok, it looks like I’m still a little drunk. There is no telling how many women he has had in this bed. Does he
even wash his sheets? Dread consumes me as I think about Tripp with other women.
“I could catch an STD,” I cry.
“Good god, woman. How big of a man whore do you think I am? I don’t fuck girls in my bed,” Tripp states angrily.
Lacey rolls over, and I have to stifle a laugh as her hair is plastered to her face, and mascara runs under her eyes, making her
look like a raccoon. “Will you two shut up or fuck already?”
“I’ve got donuts and coffee in the kitchen. No rush, but I’ve got practice later today and need to shower in my bathroom. I
mean, you are welcome to stay for a show, but I thought I would let you know in advance,” Tripp chuckles as he turns and
leaves the room.
“Did you honestly think this was a good idea?” I turn to Lacey as she moves to get out of the bed.
Shrugging her shoulders, she takes a moment to stand. “There wasn’t a better option. Besides, Tripp was being really nice.”
I can’t even imagine Tripp being nice.
“I can’t think right now. I need to get my shoes on and get out of here,” I say, scurrying around to find my heels.
“Be easy on him,” Lacey begins. “That guy Brock, whom we met at the party, was about to take you to his room. You were
almost passed out, and Tripp intervened. You collapsed, and everyone was staring. Tripp picked you up and let us stay here.
We would have been in big trouble had we gone back to our dorm. There’s no telling what would have happened if we had
stayed there. You really owe him a big thanks,” she states flatly.
Lacey’s words caused my stomach to drop. I had no idea I had gotten that drunk or that I was in any danger. I am not the type
of girl who parties often and gets drunk, nor am I the girl who puts herself in dangerous situations. However, somehow, I did
all of those things last night and put Tripp’s reputation at stake.
“We need to get out of here,” I say, looking for my small clutch with my phone.
 Lacey and I go to leave the room, but I am stopped in my tracks when I see the wall – no shrine– of Tripp. In his bedroom,
the guy has a wall with photos of him in his games, winning trophies, and news articles written about him over the years.
Damn, he certainly is an arrogant, cocky bastard.
Lacey just laughs as she pushes me out of his bedroom. When we make our way to the small kitchen, I spot three other guys
sitting at a round table. They all stop eating and talking as we approach.
“Logan, Jace, Topher, this is the infamous Sadie who is working with the team now and her friend, Lacey,” Tripp announces.
Cringing, I offer a slight wave to the guys as Lacey beams and says hi to each of them.
Logan, who has coal-black hair and light blue eyes, laughs. “So, you are the one who the coach hired to try and make this
asshole look good.”
“Sort of.” I shrug.
“Nice to meet you all,” Jace says, but his dark brown eyes are only looking at Lacey. He runs a hand through his shaggy
brown hair, and I swear, I hear Lacey moan beside me.
Shaking his head, Topher takes a sip of his steaming hot coffee. “You need all of the good press you can get, but I think you
both need to do some damage control after last night.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” I ask.
“Dude, it’s too early to think about that shit,” Tripp argues.
Topher ignores Tripp as Jace offers Lacey and me donuts from a box. I select a chocolate glaze while Lacey grabs a sugary,
twisted donut.
I take a bite and hope that the heavy bread and sugar soak up the remains of alcohol still in my system. I need to sober up
fast.
Topher takes out his phone and flashes the screen at me. Tripp moves over to stand next to me so he can see the screen, too.
He smells incredible, but I push down that thought. On the screen is a photo of me passed out, eyes closed, and hair in disarray
as Tripp carries me over his shoulder, ape man style.
I gasp and throw my hands to my face. This is so bad.
Topher starts scrolling through several different social media platforms. Some have thousands of likes, while others have
blazing comments like, “Tripp carries his next conquest.” Or, “Tripp and the girl of the evening heading out.” Then, a few
more pictures pop up with far worse captions like, “Is Tripp About To Take Advantage Of His Next Victim?” And others like
“Tripp Storms Out Of Party With Drunk Girl."
“Damn, it wasn’t even like that,” Tripp argues, shaking his head and moving away from Topher and his phone. “Sadie passed
out, and I was helping her. Those comments make it look like I was taking advantage of her.”
Tripp seems angry, and I suddenly feel bad for putting him in that situation. “This is all my fault. I drank too much, and
passed out. I will fix this,” I promise.
“You better do it soon. Coach is already pissed. I’ve managed to keep him calm, but practice is going to be tough,” Topher
says.
“Can you take us back to our dorm?” I ask Tripp. “I promise, I can fix this.”
Grabbing his keys, Tripp doesn’t say anything as he starts moving to their front door. Lacey and I scramble to keep up with
him. Shit, this is so bad.
“Bye, girls. Hope to see you all again soon,” Jace calls behind us.
I have to pull Lacey to make sure she doesn’t go back inside again. I have a feeling Lacey will be seeing Jace again.
***
The car ride back to our dorm is pretty quiet.
Lacey sits in the back seat, going through my cell phone. I ignore her gasps as I know she is finding more pictures from last
night.
Tripp’s knuckles are red as he tightly clenches the steering wheel. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are blazing wild. I need to
say something, but I’m unsure what to say, so I blurt out the first thing I can think of.
“How do you afford a car like this?” I ask, staring at the sleek interior of the Jeep.
“Sponsors,” Tripp says, shrugging like I should already know this.
“But you aren’t even in the NHL. I didn’t think college athletes could have sponsors,” I note.
“Technically, we aren’t allowed to. However, when a company throws their products my way, and all I have to do is wear
their clothes, drive their vehicles, or be seen at their clubs – how can I turn it down?”
His logic is reasonable but morally gray at best.
“Cool.”
When we reach our dorm, I stall a moment as Lacey gets out of the vehicle. Turning to Tripp, I offer a small smile. “I really
do appreciate you helping me out last night, and thanks again for the ride. I swear, I will fix this,” I explained.
Tripp eyes me carefully, like he’s not sure what to do or say. “I don’t regret helping you. I wasn’t going to leave you there
vulnerable…” he pauses and closes his eyes tightly. When they open again, I see turmoil. “Sadie, when it comes to you, I feel
crazy. The thought of another man touching you had me seeing fire red. I know I have no right to feel that way, but I do. I’m
sorry if I made your job harder.”
I’m momentarily speechless. What in the hell is Tripp saying? Before I can even respond, Tripp goes to pull away. I close
the door and watch as he drives away. I have no idea what just happened, but I know that things between me and Tripp are
irrevocably changed.
 Chapter 14

Sadie

“D o you know how bad this looks?” Chad screams into my phone.
I sit at my desk, still hungover, as I listen to him yell at me. Apparently, pictures of Tripp carrying me out of the party
have gone viral, and not in a good way. Instead of people calling him a hero for helping me, they are making him look
like some Neanderthal who is carrying me out to have his way with me.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I try to explain, but Chad doesn’t want to hear it.
“The Hawks may ask me to assign someone else to this, or worse, we could lose some of the sponsors who have started
advertising on the website. We need this to go well. You need to fix this,” he yells again.
“I will make it all go away,” I swear.
Chad hangs up, and I know that I have royally fucked up right now.
I start with my blog first and then move to our website. Each word I write is filled with truth and emotion. I don’t make
myself appear to be a victim, but rather someone who needed help from a friend. I highlight Tripp for doing the right thing and
making sure two females made it to a safe place and were taken care of.
After two grueling hours, I’ve created multiple social media posts, updated the blog, and added to our website. The story of
Tripp, the hero, is out for the world to see now, and all I can do is hope and pray that these stories change the perception of
Tripp. Honestly, after last night and this morning, my entire view of him has changed. He’s still such an enigma to me, but I feel
like, he’s slowly peeling back his layers, and I am seeing parts of him that he has hidden from the rest of the world. Publically,
he comes off as this wild, arrogant man. But in reality, he has a heart and cares.
Sighing, I close my laptop and pad over to my bed. Lacey has been sleeping since Tripp dropped us off. Now, it’s my turn to
crash and sleep off the remains of last night.
***

I woke several hours later to the sound of my phone ringing next to me.
Glancing at the screen, I realized I slept through the entire day. It was after five, and I was still exhausted. My mom’s name
appeared on the screen, and I groaned as I answered the call.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Sadie, are you not being safe?” her shrill voice rang through the line.
Cringing, I held the phone out from my ear. “What are you talking about?”
“Your cousin saw posts about you on social media. You were passed out, and some large man was carrying you. What are
you doing there? Is this what you are learning at that journalism school?” she cried out.
I fall back onto my mattress and close my eyes. Of course, my cousin Holly would be the one to see those posts and show
them to my family. She’s such an innocent and probably thought I needed saving or something like that.
“Mom, I am fine. I promise. I had a few drinks and was super tired. A friend helped me out,” I tried to explain, but she
wasn’t hearing any of it.
“Sadie, your father and I told you that if we didn’t feel like you were safe or that you weren’t taking school seriously, we
would bring you back home. You should transfer to a more respectable university, like one in New York or Boston. You’ve had
your fun, but when are you going to finally agree that journalism at that beach party school just isn’t practical?”
I absolutely hated how my mom always seemed to crush my dreams. I understood they didn’t agree with my choice of
schools or majors, but this is my life, and at some point, I need to have the freedom to do what I want. My grandparents had left
me an inheritance, and that had paid for my tuition so far. But I was terrified my parents would revoke that and force me back
home.
“I know you don’t get what I’m doing, but I swear, everything is fine. I even wrote an article this morning that cleared
everything up,” I explained.
“Posting to a school website doesn’t fix your tainted reputation. Your father and I have talked and made a final decision. If
you haven’t proven to us that this school and your major are practical, then we are going to bring you back here,” she firmly
told me.
I wanted to scream, yell, and cry, but none of that would matter right now. My mom was stubborn, and I knew that arguing
wouldn’t get me anywhere with her. I just needed to prove to my parents that this wasn’t just a far-fetched dream. I would show
them that I could do this.
“Ok, Mom,” I agreed.
We talked for a few more minutes before she hung up to meet my dad for dinner.
“Are you seriously considering leaving Sunnyvale?” Lacey asked from her bed.
I hadn’t even realized that she was awake. I rolled over and faced her, my head lying on my pillow. “I have no idea what I’m
going to do, but that is my last resort. I want to stay here, but my parents think journalism is just a hobby, not a career or a
future.”
Lacey and I had had this conversation before, but it still sucked to be reminded that my parents didn’t approve of the life I
wanted to live. Especially, when I had messed up and given them another chance to prove me wrong.
“What are you going to do?” Lacey asks.
“I just need to keep my head on straight. No more getting drunk,” I almost laughed.
“What about Tripp?” she asked, moving to sit up in her bed.
“What about him?” I asked, trying not to imagine his face or rock-hard chest.
“He is totally into you,” Lacey added.
“Nah, he was just doing me a favor. I’m helping him and the team out.” Even I wasn’t sure I believed my words.
“Sadie, come on. Tripp doesn’t do anyone favors. From what I’ve read about him and seen at other parties, he only does
what he wants. But last night, I saw the way he was looking at you. He cares about you,” she gushed.
Shaking my head, I move to sit up so I can face her better. “I don’t know what to think about Tripp,” I sigh. “What about
Jace?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“I see what you are doing,” she laughs. “He is so damn hot. How does Tripp have such hot friends?” She smiles, and I see
her begin to blush.
“You’ve seen the team. They are all like Greek gods,” I admire. I may not like Tripp, but I can appreciate sexy guys when I
see them.
“You are so lucky that you get to work with them. Maybe sometime I can go with you to another game?” she asks, smiling
brightly.
“You better come to all the games I have to go to. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know that regardless of how I feel
about Tripp or hockey, I have to make this work. My grade, degree, and future depend on it,” I share with a resigned huff.
I’m so in over my head right now that it’s not funny, but I’m not someone who gives up. Like it or not, my world now
revolves around hockey – and unfortunately – Tripp Stevens.
 Chapter 15

Tripp

I sliced through the frigid air with each stride, the blades of my skates leaving jagged trails in the ice. The coach's voice
echoed off the walls, gruffly barking out instructions that I struggled to focus on as I reeled from a headache brought about by
last night's excesses. Hockey had been my passion and my only chance for a better future—if I wanted to keep it that way, I
knew I had to push through this especially rough practice session.
“Hey, did you see Sadie’s post?” Jace asked as he passed me the puck.
Feeling like shit, I vowed to lay off alcohol on nights that I had games or practices the next day.
“Not yet, why?” I asked, skating past him and shooting the puck toward the net.
The puck sailed into the net, and I sighed with relief. Topher was watching me carefully, and I didn’t want to disappoint him
again.
Jace skated over to me and lifted his helmet. “She wrote about how you were this knight in shining armor and saved her from
a disastrous night. You look like a hero,” he laughs, because we all know I am anything but a hero.
“Good, maybe Coach will stop giving me the stink eye,” I state.
Jace skates past me, zig-zagging through cones set up for a speed drill. He moves with precision and winks as he flips us off.
I laugh because the guy never takes anything seriously. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t even be thinking about last night.
Instead, he’s probably planning the next rager to attend.
“Anyway, what about Sadie’s friend, Lacey? Do you know anything about her?” Jace asks, causing me to focus on him again.
We skate over to the bench and grab a quick drink until it’s our turn to run the drill again.
“I have no fucking idea. Why? You like her?” I ask, squirting refreshing cold water into my mouth.
For a moment, Jace looks uncomfortable. The typical funny guy is now quiet and, dare I say it, shy.
“She was hot as hell and seemed nice. Maybe I will see her around campus. Maybe you could ask Sadie about her,” he
questions.
“Seriously, dude? Are we in middle school again? If you like Lacey, go talk to her. Besides, Sadie and I only talk about
hockey. She is just writing about me in the press as part of her job,” I rush out.
I feel a pang of guilt as I belittle my feelings for Sadie. Fuck, I don’t even know what I feel for her. I know that I like being
around her. I like seeing her riled up and angry. She is so cute when she pinches her nose and stomps around. Then, she is sexy
as hell when she stands up to me and proves to herself and everyone else around her that she is strong and independent.
“Sure, she’s just doing a job. From what I saw last night at the party and this morning, there is more going on between the
two of you than work,” he chuckles, taking another drink. He moves to skate away, but before he does, he turns back to me.
“Maybe you should try being honest with Sadie and yourself.”
What the fuck does that mean?
After practice, we all hit the locker room to shower and change. I grab my duffle bag when I hear Coach call my name.
“Stevens, meet me in my office,” he shouts.
The guys all look at me, and I can see the sympathy in their eyes. Most of them were at the party last night and saw the posts
circulating on social media. Even though Sadie made new posts and updated an article on the Sunnyvale website, the damage
has still been done.
I slowly make my way to his office. I walk over to the coach, and he motions for me to sit down. In his large leather coach's
chair, he always looks older than his years. The wrinkles around his eyes are like threads looping through an old quilt. I hate it
when he uses that tone of voice – a cross between a frustrated sigh and an amused whisper. I messed up, and he's going to want
answers.
Steepling his hands in front of him, he exhales before he begins. “Tripp, having this conversation with you is starting to get
really old,” he gruffs. “I thought after our last conversation, you would start to take all of this more seriously. Look, Topher has
had your back, and I understand that you have worked your ass off to get here, but this is a business for me, too. All you have to
do is play hockey, smile for pictures, and keep your shit together. If you continue to remain a liability, the Dean may force me to
bench you for the rest of the season.”
“You all can’t do that!” I shout, momentarily forgetting that I’m talking to Coach. Shit, I didn’t mean to yell at him. “I’m sorry
for raising my voice. I know that I’ve fucked up, but last night wasn’t one of my mishaps. I honestly was helping Sadie. She
even wrote new posts about it this morning,” I explain.
Coach shakes his head and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, Topher showed that to me. I’m giving you one last chance.
After that, my hands will be tied. Sponsors don’t want drama and scandals attached to their names. Don’t blow this, kid. You
could have a long history in the NHL one day if you can just make it through college.”
All I can do is nod at this point. “I am going to do everything in my power to make you proud, Coach,” I pledge. I truly mean
it, too.
“I believe in you. But more than anything, make yourself proud,” he finishes, and then motions for me to leave.
As I walk out of the coach's office, I know that I’ve got to do everything I can to fix the messes I’ve created for myself. Even
when I do the right thing, like last night helping Sadie, people still think the worst of me. It’s my own fault, and I know that, but
it’s damn time that I make a change.
Moving across campus, I’m lost in thought when an arm drapes through mine. I already know it’s the annoying puck bunny
who won’t leave me alone. This time, she’s wearing a necklace with her name, Jessica, written in gold cursive writing. Now I
remember her name.
“Tripp, when are we going to hang out again? I think you and I would make a great team, and it would look incredible for
your reputation to have a steady girlfriend,” she breathes heavily.
“I’m not into dating,” I say, shrugging her off of me. This girl seriously can’t take a hint.
Looking angry, she brushes her long hair behind her shoulder. “Is this about that nerdy girl who writes the articles about the
Hawks?” she questions, her tone pissed.
I hate how she talks about Sadie like that. “You don’t even know Sadie. She’s not nerdy, she’s fucking determined and
brilliant. Maybe I haven’t been clear. I don’t want to date you, so back off,” I yell, causing her to back away.
Shaking my head, I glance around and see a few people watching us. Preston watches, too, and when our eyes connect, he is
glaring at me. Looks like I’ve earned another enemy. Game on, asshole.
 Chapter 16

Sadie

I was almost to the Journalism building when I saw Tripp standing in front of it, hands in his pockets, wearing a cocky half-
grin. His lips curved into a smirk, and he winked at me as I approached. I felt my cheeks heat up despite myself as he oozed
an aura of effortless confidence. As I drew nearer, he looked at me with captivating blue eyes, the corners of his mouth curling
into a flirtatious smirk.
“Look, my biggest fan,” he mocks, pushing himself away from the building.
Turning, I pretend to look for someone else. “Where? I want to see the poor soul,” I banter back.
Tripp laughs and slides in next to me as I don’t slow my strides. “So, have you heard the good news yet?” he asks, nudging
my shoulder.
“What? That you are now STD-free?” I take the stairs and try to keep my emotions under control. Being near Tripp has my
heart racing and my mind buzzing. Our banter is typical for us, but after Saturday night, I have no idea where we stand
anymore.
“Funny,” Tripp mocks. “Nah, something even better. You are going with the Hawks on our next away game,” Tripp tells me.
I stop dead in my tracks, and Tripp almost bumps into me. “What?”
“I guess you hadn’t heard yet. Well, consider me lucky, as I get to tell you first,” Tripp quips.
Huffing, I find the will to walk again and storm into the Journalism building. I should be heading down the hallway to my
ethics course, but I veer to the right and head straight to Chad’s office. Tripp trails behind me, and I can feel him smiling the
entire way. Why does he enjoy my suffering so much?
Bursting into Chad’s office, I catch him as he’s laid back in his chair, playing a game on his cell phone. I startled him, and he
jumped up straight. “Sadie, what are you doing?”
“What is this about me going to an away game,” I shout.
Chad eyes me, and then his eyes go as wide as saucers when he spots Tripp towering in the doorway. “Tripp Stevens, it’s a
pleasure to meet you,” Chad gushes.
I roll my eyes as he fanboys over Tripp. “Focus, Chad,” I say, snapping in his direction.
“Well, the Hawks coach called and asked that Sadie and the rest of the sports department be available for away games. He
wants all the good press they can get. I was just about to email you, but I got distracted with other work matters,” Chad stutters,
keeping his eyes and smile on Tripp.
“You mean that you were too busy playing CandyCrush on your phone,” I snapped. “Look, can’t I just write my article from
here? I can watch the game on television and write an article that makes every player a star,” I add.
Shaking his head, Chad puts his phone down on his desk. “I don’t think that will work. The Hawks want you at this game. I
can’t say no, especially when they are getting sponsors to help us. We may finally be able to get all of our journalists desks,”
Chad enthused.
That thought is appealing. We are the only department on campus where the paid employees and interns don’t have an actual
office. However, the thought of traveling with a hockey team isn’t as endearing.
Suddenly, I turn to Tripp who is still standing in the doorway. He fills the space completely, and his presence alone
commands attention. “Did you do this?” I question.
Holding his hands out in front of him, Tripp fakes innocence. “Hell, no. Coach called me this morning and told me that he
asked for you and the rest of the department. He’s on damage control,” Tripp explains.
He may not say it directly, but I read the underlying message in his words. I put Tripp in the hot seat again. As much as I hate
it, I do owe him.
“How many nights will I be gone? I have classes,” I say.
Chad checks the calendar on his desk. “You would leave Thursday night and come back home Sunday evening. You would
only miss your Friday classes. I can reach out to your professors and explain your need to be absent. You can do your
classwork on the road,” Chad states.
I feel like I’m in the eye of a cyclone right now, and there is no end in sight.
Tripp takes a step toward me and throws his arm around my shoulder. I fight the urge to sigh at the feel of his strong arm
around me. Damn, he smells so good.
“Don’t stress about it, Sadie. This will be a fun adventure,” Tripp says, smiling widely down at me.
I narrow my eyes at Chad, who is still starstruck as he eyes Tripp. Well, hell. Looks like I need to start packing my bags.
***
By Tuesday night, my professors for my Friday classes had already sent me my work to complete while I was traveling.
Lacey was beyond jealous that I got to go away with the team, even though I was dreading the idea. I’m pretty sure Lacey and
Jace had been hanging out, but she was keeping all of the details to herself. I wasn’t going to pry. She would tell me when she
was ready.
Sitting at my desk, I finish my last assignment and feel my stomach growl. I’m starving.
“Hey, want to go grab something to eat at the campus cafeteria?” I ask Lacey, who is snuggled in bed watching Netflix.
“Sure,” she agrees.
We leave our dorm and walk the short distance to the center of campus, where the cafeteria is located. I can smell the
delicious aroma of several different cuisines offered, and I begin walking even faster. When we entered the cafeteria, it was
clear that almost all of the other students had the same idea as us to have a late dinner.
Lacey and I head to the Italian station and get in line. I love the lasagna and salad offered. As we wait in line, I hear loud
laughter and spot the Hawks hockey team sitting near the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. A group of girls sit at a table beside
them, giggling and shamelessly flirting as the guys are loud and rowdy.
“Oh great, I can’t seem to escape hockey,” I mutter as I do everything in my power to look away.
My eyes deceive me as they search the sea of faces for Tripp. Of course, I spot him instantly, and our eyes lock. Tripp’s
insane blue eyes captivate me as a slow smile spreads over his features. He winks, and I feel a hot blush creep over my face.
Tearing my eyes away, I feel Lacey nudge me from behind.
“I see you and Tripp eyeing one another,” Lacey whispers as she pushes me forward in line.
When it’s my turn to order, I almost forget what I am doing. Lacey tells the server our orders (I order the same thing each
time we eat here), and I move forward without thinking.
“We aren’t eyeing one another. I just looked at who was making all of that noise, and I saw him,” I lied.
Lacey laughs, and her hair flies all around her face. “Well, I’m not going to be shy,” she giggles.
Lacey waves to the team, and Jace jumps out of his seat and jogs toward us. “Hey, Lacey,” he gushes, smiling at only her.
“Hey, Jace.” Lacey blushes and smiles so wide that I wonder if her face hurts.
“Why don’t you girls come sit with us?” he asks, pointing behind him to the large group.
“Oh, are you sure?” Lacey plays coy.
“Yeah, we were just having a late dinner after practice and talking about going to the bonfire on Friday night. The Sigma
Sorority wants to throw us a bash before we leave for our first big away game. It’s going to be epic. You should come, too,”
Jace offers.
Before I can open my mouth to decline, Lacey is already making plans for the two of us. “Sure, that sounds great. Let us get
our food, and we will be right over.”
We pay for our dinners, and I reluctantly follow her to the table filled with the Hawks. Jace makes room for us right next to
him, and of course, I find myself sitting across from Tripp.
Jace and Lacey fall into an easy conversation. I only make out a little of what they are saying, but I know I hear plans for
Wednesday night. The cafeteria is roaring with noise from so many people inside. I quietly eat my food and make a plan to
escape as soon as I am finished. Lacey won’t even notice I’m gone now that she is sitting with Jace.
“Someone is quiet tonight,” Tripp shouts over the noise.
He has a girl with fiery red hair sitting next to him, looking at him as though he were a god come down to earth. She glances
at me, and I don’t miss the snarky scowl she throws my way as Tripp watches me carefully. She’s wearing a necklace with her
name, Jessica, written in gold script. I haven’t seen anyone wear a necklace like that since I was in middle school.
“I’m just enjoying my dinner. I spent all evening working on assignments,” I explain, through a bite of lasagna.
“You going to the party?” he asks.
“I’m going, Tripp. I got a super cute new bikini,” the fiery, red-haired girl announces, placing a hand on Tripp’s shoulder.
For some strange reason, I feel a wave of anger and jealousy as I watch her slide her hands over Tripp’s thick muscles. I
want to reach over the table and slap her away from him, but I refrain from doing it.
 To my surprise, Tripp ignores Jessica and keeps his eyes trained on me.
“I’m not sure. Jace just told Lacey and me about it, but I will probably need to pack since we are leaving Thursday,” I
explain.
Tripp doesn’t budge on the topic. “Come on, it will be fun. Besides, you could use a night of fun,” he states.
“What does that mean?” I snap back.
“Nothing, just that you always seem too serious. It might do you some good to relax.”
I think back to the last time I just wanted to relax. That night didn’t go as planned, and I internally cringe as I think of the
backlash that came.
“The last time I went to a party, it didn’t end so well…” I try to explain.
Tripp nods, but he reaches across from the table and grabs my hand. It startles me as a shock of electricity shoots through me
the moment our hands touch. I can tell he feels it, too, because his eyes go wide, but he doesn’t release my hand.
The red-haired girl gasps, and then dramatically stands and walks away. Clearly, Tripp pissed her off.
“This will be different. No alcohol since we leave the next night. It will just be a big bonfire on the beach with some food
and good music.” I hear the eagerness in his voice for me to attend. I’m not sure why he cares, but it’s sweet, nonetheless.
“I guess I will go for a little bit. I mean, Lacey will probably drag me there anyway,” I chuckle.
Tripp releases my hand, and I hate how empty it feels to not have him touching me any longer.
Everyone is still laughing and chattering and once I finish my food, I go to stand to empty my tray and make a quick escape.
Lacey spots me moving and turns to me.
“Sadie, are you leaving?” she asks.
“Yeah, but you stay. I need to get some things done,” I lie.
I can tell Lacey doesn’t want to leave. She’s having a good time with Jace, and I love that she and him are hitting it off.
“I can come with you if you want,” she offers, but I see it in her eyes that she wants to stay.
“No, it’s fine,” I deadpan.
“I can walk her back to your dorm,” Tripp offers, surprising us both.
“That’s a great idea!” Lacey exclaims.
I give her the stink eye but turn and smile at Tripp. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Nah, I haven’t packed yet, so I was going to leave soon anyway,” Tripp states, standing and grabbing his empty tray.
Together, we leave the table, and I can feel all eyes on us as we throw away our trash and walk to the exit.
Once outside, I notice that the sun has set and a sea of blackness has taken over the campus. There’s a slight chill in the air
from the ocean, but it feels nice.
“You don’t have to walk me,” I offer.
“It’s fine. You shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Tripp says.
“You know, when you aren’t around everyone else, you can be pretty sweet,” I tell him, eliciting a smirk from him.
“Don’t tell anyone, you might ruin my asshole reputation,” he laughs.
We walk side-by-side along the cobblestone path, and it feels nice. Strange, but nice.
“You can be a total asshole, especially when you aggravate me,” I kid. “But seriously, you have this kind-hearted side to you
that I wish you showcased more often.”
Tripp slows his pace, and I pause, turning to look back at him. “Do you mean that?” he asks.
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t lie to you,” I swear.
The silver glow of the moonlight reflects off his face, and he is so damn sexy it’s hard to look away from him. No one should
be allowed to look this good.
“You want to know a secret?” he asks me.
“Sure.”
“I only really care about a few things. Hockey is number one because that is what saved me, but Jace, Topher, and Logan are
literally my brothers and my only family. Other than them and hockey, I don’t care how the world sees me.”
I’m shocked at his admission but also a little saddened. Tripp moves over to a bench near a flower garden off the
cobblestone path. I follow him and sit dangerously close to him. “Do you care if we sit for a minute? This conversation took a
heavy turn.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything personal if you don’t want to,” I explain, secretly hoping he continues sharing. I like this
softer, more vulnerable side to Tripp.
“No, this feels weirdly nice. I don’t talk to a lot of people, but for some reason, I feel comfortable talking to you,” Tripp tells
me, and my heart swells. I nod and allow him to share. “I grew up in a small town. There wasn’t much to do except get into
trouble. I never met my dad, and my mom was always too high to care about me. Topher was a few years older than us and
always kept an eye out for Jace, Logan, and me. When he started playing hockey, he would teach us things he learned on the
school team. It kept us away from the gangs and drugs that took over the rest of the guys we knew. Over the years, we got
better at hockey and started playing in high school. We all knew that if we didn’t buckle down and get a scholarship to a good
college, we would die in that town. Obviously, Topher was the first one to get out. He got a scholarship from Sunnyvale when
they first created the hockey program. At first, people thought the idea of a hockey team at a beach school was crazy, but once
they started winning games and championships, people jumped on the bandwagon. The program blew up, and Jace, Logan, and
I knew we had to follow Topher. We worked our assess off to get our scholarships, and when Sunnyvale accepted all three of
us, we vowed we would do everything we could to make it work. I feel like I’ve let the guys down recently.”
Tripp pauses, and I see him hang his head in shame. I take that moment to place my hand on his. He turns to look at me, and
our eyes lock in a silent exchange. “I am blown away at how much you accomplished. You haven’t let them down. Everyone
makes mistakes. It’s how you come back from those mistakes that truly defines you.”
“Damn, Sadie,” Tripp breathes heavily.
Tripp's gaze softened, and his muscular frame leaned towards me, filling the space between us. He shifted closer, and I could
feel the warmth radiating from his body. His eyes were wide, intense, searching my face as he moved closer still. His warm
breath caressed my face, sending a thrill down my spine. I knew what he was about to do, and butterflies fluttered in my
stomach as his lips neared mine. I was suddenly conscious of every beat of my rapidly pulsing heart as I felt sure he was going
to kiss me. Tripp's warm lips pressed against mine. He tasted like the sea and smelled sweet with a hint of cloves. I closed my
eyes and parted my lips in return, and a rush of electricity shot through me. I felt the warmth radiating from every nerve ending
as hearts flew behind my eyelids. Time seemed to stand still in that moment as we lingered in perfect harmony. A shower of
sparks seemed to ignite in the air around us, and I felt like I was flying. The kiss was pure magic.
He pulled away suddenly, looking both relieved and apologetic at once. The moment our lips parted, we stared at each other.
I can't believe Tripp just kissed me.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Tripp whispered, his forehead leaning against mine.
“Really? I thought you hated me, or…” I didn’t know what to say. The moment had felt heavenly, and I didn’t want to ruin it
with the truth of my mixed emotions.
“I shouldn’t want to be with you. I shouldn't have kissed you, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. I can’t even begin to
explain to you how irate I am with myself for wanting you. What you don’t understand, Sadie, is that you hold the power to
destroy me. Not just my future and career but also my heart and soul. The last thing I should ever be imagining is me buried
between your legs, your sweet tits in my mouth, and the sound of you orgasming ringing in my ears. But fuck me, if that isn’t
what I dream about every night. I want you. I want to be with you, and I don't know how to stay away from you.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. My body is trembling, and all I can do is wipe away the tears falling from my eyes.
“Why did you tell me all of that?” I ask, my voice breaking through my sobs.
Shaking his head, Tripp says, “Because it’s the truth. Sadie, you make me want to be honest. You make me want to do better.
It’s wrong, but I can’t help it.”
He’s right; this is all very wrong. I have been assigned to work for Tripp and the Hawks. He has a future on the line, and
neither of us can risk messing up. Whatever this is, it is complicated. If it ends badly, everything we have both worked so hard
to achieve could go up in flames.
“Tripp, I don’t know what to say,” I begin, but he stops me.
Abruptly standing, Tripp offers me his hand. “Come on, let me walk you to your dorm. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry,
Sadie.”
My heart shatters into a million pieces, and I have to force myself not to start crying. He’s right, though. He shouldn’t have
kissed me. We shouldn’t have stopped.
“Ok,” I managed to say.
For the remainder of our walk, neither of us says anything at all. There’s this unspoken moment between us that neither of us
dares to share. That kiss was beyond perfect, but it was wrong. It can’t happen again. The silence is unbearable.
When we reach my dorm, Tripp goes to walk away, but before he does, he stops and faces me. “Sadie, just so you know, that
kiss was everything to me. We both know it can’t happen again.”
I stand there, surrounded in darkness, as I watch Tripp walk away, leaving me a broken mess.
Later that night, I’m scrolling through social media when I see a comment from an anonymous person. Opening the message, I
gasp in shock as I read.
Tripp isn’t really interested in you. All you are is another game to him. He will get tired of you, just like he does with all of
the other girls. And when he does, he will come running back to me.
I read over the message again. Who the hell is this? Why would they think Tripp is into me? Deciding it’s just some crazy
person, I delete the message and close my eyes, hoping for sleep to erase the night.
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