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“I’m thinking the parties, drinking, girls.” Alex waves a hand dismissively. “He thinks that if I live with the team, I’ll suddenly turn into some wild, out-of-control floozy.”

Despite myself, I snicker at the image of sweet, studious Alex going unchecked. “Does he know you’re his son?”

He laughs, but there’s a tinge of sadness to it. “I know, right? I love the team, but I’m not exactly the ‘keg stand’ type.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” I bump my shoulder against his. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Alex. And if living with your dad is what he thinks is best for you right now, then that’s okay.”

“I guess.” He shrugs, but I can tell he’s not entirely convinced. “I just feel like I’m missing out on the college experience. I should be able to make my own choices, mistakes, and everything else that comes with being here.”

My mind churns, realizing that his words hit way too close to home. “Yeah, I get that. Believe me, I do.”

“You do?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve always been pretty content in my own little bubble with my books and sarcasm to keep me company. But my best friend Jackson is always pushing me out of my shell. Telling me I need to try new things, meet new people, and experience all that college has to offer.”

“And do you? Come out of your shell, I mean.”

I chuckle wryly. “Not nearly as often as I should. It’s scary, as I’m sure you know, putting yourself out there and risking rejection,embarrassment, and heartbreak. It’s much easier staying in my lane where I know what to expect.”

Alex hums in understanding. “But that’s not really living, is it? If we never take risks, never challenge ourselves…are we making the most of the time we have here?”

His words strike a chord deep within me, and a flicker of determination and possibility ignites in my chest.

“You’re right,” I murmur more to myself than to Alex. “College is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most people. A chance to grow, learn, and discover who we are and what we want to become. And maybe it’s time I—we—start embracing that.”

Alex beams at me. “Yes! We’re young and have our whole lives ahead of us. We should seize every opportunity and make memories that will last a lifetime.”

His enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t stop the smile that threatens to be my undoing. “Okay. From now on, I’ll try to say yes to more things. To step outside of my comfort zone and see what happens.”

“That’s the spirit!” Alex claps me on the back. For a guy tinier than me, he sure packs a wallop. “And hey, you’ve already started by moving into the Hockey House. That’s a pretty big step.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Although, I’m not sure ‘living in a house with a bunch of sweaty jocks’ was on my college bucket list.”

“But it’s an adventure!” Alex insists. “Think of all the new experiences you’ll have. The stories you’ll be able to tell your future children. Hell, I bet you never thought you’d be sitting in an ice rink wearing Gerard Gunnarson’s hoodie, did you?”

I glance down at the oversized blue garment engulfing my small frame.No, no, I did not.There’s a first time for everything, though, right? So, what’s next?

Sleeping in his bed with him right next to you.

Oh, dear. That voice inside my head is absolutely right.

ICE QUEEN BLOG POST #6

Moving On Up

Hey there, puck bunnies! Ice Queen here, your go-to gal for the coolest takes on all things Barracudas.

Have I got news for you! Our little mystery man has leveled up in the world. From no house to the Hockey House! I know, I’m as surprised as you are!

Picture it: waking up every morning in that hunky fortress, padding down to the sleek kitchen in your slippers to pour a cup of fair-trade coffee, only to have a half-naked Adonis fresh from the shower saunter in.

I don’t know about you, but I’m positively green with envy. What I’d give to be this lucky bastard rubbing elbows—and who knows what else—with the cream of the crop, the upper echelon, the gods among men that are the BSU hockey team.

Oh, the sights he will see! Rippling muscles, glistening skin, bro-tastic hijinks, and homoerotic shenanigans. And let’s not forget about the crown jewel himself—Gerard Gunnarson. How isMystery Man not spontaneously combusting from being that close to that fine specimen of masculinity?

Now, I have a juicy little tidbit that I’ve been keeping under wraps. You see, while I know the name of this enigmatic figure, I’ve been asked to keep it on the down low to protect the privacy of this sudden celebrity. And I’ll be honest, I’m torn.

On the one hand, I live for the thrill of the reveal. For hearing the gasps of shock and delight when I drop a bombshell. Can you imagine what’ll happen when I unveil the man behind the mystery? The ensuing chaos will bepriceless.