Page 13

Luka

“ R erun the drill! You guys are sloppy! Get your shit together. We won’t leave until I see some actual hockey players and not a bunch of pansy asses that wouldn’t know a stick from their own ass!” Coach screams from the other side of the rink.

He’s pissed.

I lift my helmet off my head and wipe the sweat pouring from my forehead. With how much we exert ourselves under all this padding, it’s a wonder we don’t sweat even more. I skate over and grab my water, which is sitting on the player’s bench. I spray the water in my mouth, and the cold helps cool me down, but only briefly.

Coach’s whistle blows, and we get into place to run the same drill we’ve run the entire practice. I’m tired and sluggish. My body is screaming at me to be done, but I don’t pay it any attention as I skate over to meet Rowan in the neutral zone.

“You ready?” Rowan asks as he lines up in front of me to face off for the puck.

I smirk. “I was born ready.”

“Could have fooled me. What the hell is up with you today, man?” Rowan asks seriously.

I grunt in frustration because something does feel off . I can’t seem to think straight. None of the shots I’ve taken have made it past Nash. It isn’t like me to play this sloppy. Thankfully, it isn’t just me. The whole team sucks ass today, so Coach is too busy being pissed at everyone as a group to notice how off my game I am.

“I don’t know.” It isn’t a lie. I got the same amount of sleep I always do, ate the same breakfast, and did all my warmups. I’m a man of routine, and nothing about that has changed.

“That girl’s not already messing with your head, is she?”

“Who?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. Lily. The girl you flirted with all Saturday night.”

He’s right. I know exactly who he was talking about, but I’m unwilling to admit that my attraction to my tutor—who happens to be my sister’s best friend—may be the culprit.

It was fucking fun to flirt with her and watch her cheeks turn rosy pink every time I looked at her. I particularly enjoyed watching how her face lit up when she blurted out random facts and listening to her fumble over calling me beautiful and pretty.

She’s beautiful and pretty. She’s also intelligent and so off-limits that I shouldn’t even be thinking about her as anything more than a friend and my tutor.

“ I’ve been right here, waiting for you to find me, Luka Russo.”

I shake my head to clear Lily’s voice from my mind. I don’t know what the hell happened to me when she said that, but I’ve never felt such an urge to protect someone. I felt like picking her up and running around that damn frat house, screaming “MINE!” like a fucking caveman.

My reaction to her statement was all-encompassing and overpowering. I have no clue why, which is exactly why I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s also most likely the very reason I suck today.

“Whatever it is, let it go.”

“Oh, thank you, oh wise one. So, fucking simple. Why didn’t I think of that?” I glare at him as our assistant coach drops the puck between the two of us.

“Hey, I’m not captain for nothing. I’m full of insightful wisdom.” He laughs as his stick makes contact with the puck first, but I push forward and jab my twig between his skates and the puck, effectively pushing us out of the circle and toward the defensive zone.

We fight for control, both hellbent on getting the puck first. I finally see my opening, and I don’t hesitate to take him down. He would do the same to me.

My stick collides with his with such force that he lets off the puck momentarily. That one split second is all I need. I steal the puck and turn, racing toward the offensive zone and Nash. I hear some of the other guys screaming for me to pass it, but I ignore them. I have a clear shot, and I’m taking it.

I will get one fucking shot in today .

Rowan is hot on my heels, but I’m a faster, stronger skater than him. Though it isn’t by much, it’s enough to win a one-on-one race. I calculate what would happen if I shot for the top left corner and quickly decide it’s too risky. Instead, I go for the shot, which I’m almost sure I can make just by the current position that Nash is in.

I shoot, and I score.

Fuck yes!

Rowan slams into me from the back, laughing as he grabs onto my padded shoulder. “See! I told you! Let that shit go.”

Maybe he’s right. I can’t let whatever I felt for Lily on Saturday distract me from my goal of making it to the NCAA championship.

I need to let it go and stay focused. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done when her bright green eyes float into my mind and remind me of all the reasons why staying away from her will be so fucking hard.

The smell of old books and silence are the only things that greet me. Lily said to meet her here at 6:30 p.m. I look down at my watch and note that I have a minute to spare .

This is the first time I’ll see her after whatever the hell happened Saturday night. An image of Lily in that tight, short miniskirt pops into my head, and I internally groan. Damn . Saying she looked good would be the understatement of the century.

She looked delicious and delicate at the same time. I wanted her to myself and away from all the prying eyes surrounding us. Not just for my sake, but for hers, too, since she didn’t seem all that comfortable. I don’t know if it was the party in general, the attention she drew, or if it was me .

At some point during the night, my playful flirting turned into something more intense as the need to protect her flared.

That’s the very feeling that I need to shove deep, deep down into the recess of my fucking brain because I don’t have the time or capacity to have those kinds of feelings. My shitty performance at practice was proof enough of that.

I have a feeling turning that shit off won’t be as easy as it sounds in my head, though, which makes my nerves flare about seeing her tonight.

I gave myself a mental pep talk all the way here, and I continue to mentally chant all the reasons why I need to stay away from her as I walk back to what now seems to be our table.

You need to stay focused.

You have one goal, Russo—the championships.

She’s just a friend.

No, no, she’s just my tutor.

There. It may be easier to only think of her as my tutor. I may have pushed for the friend thing the other night, but now I’m realizing how dangerous that is and how right Lily is with her damn friendship tiers.

Oh, how easy it would be to move up through the ranks with her. My promise to her flashes through my mind as I spot her sitting at the table. She’s furiously typing on her laptop. Her eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration as she delicately bites her bottom lip.

Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a loose t-shirt. It’s a stark contrast to how dressed up she was Saturday night. Even though I thought she was the hottest girl I had ever seen then, I think I like this look even better.

I make a small choking sound as I try to swallow, but it gets caught in my throat. She’s breathtaking in a subtle way. She’s the type of beauty that sneaks up on you when you least expect it, consuming your thoughts and making any other woman look insignificant in comparison.

She’s the forever kind of beauty .

Get your shit together, Russo. You cannot and will not think about her like that . I clear my throat loudly enough for her to hear. I don’t want to startle her again.

Her head pops up, and a broad, genuine smile consumes her pretty face. It takes everything in me not to reciprocate her warm welcome. I only give a small smile and nod back as I take my seat across from her.

Her smile wavers, and that one action has my stomach leaping. I don’t know if I can do this—if I can shut down whatever feelings that have been brewing over Lily McKenna. However, I know if I don’t try, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve had one damn goal for my entire college career, and that was to make it to the Division I championship. This is literally my last year to make that happen —my last shot. A girl has never factored into my life as anything more than a short-term hookup, a way to pass the time. I wasn’t— I’m not —willing to let anything distract me. I’m too damn close to lose sight of my goal.

Lily McKenna is the only girl who has made me stop and think twice about having something more than a fling.

“How are you?” she asks tentatively.

“I’m fine. I’m short on time tonight, so let’s just get right to it, shall we?” My brisk tone makes her smile disappear into thin air.

I feel terrible that I’m making this awkward. That’s not what I want, but I also don’t know how to safely place her back in the “acquaintance’s only” zone without being a complete dick.

This fucking sucks.

Her eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as she studies me. “Did I do something to upset you?” she finally asks after a long moment of silence.

I shake my head. “I just have shit to do after this, so can we move it along?”

The hurt that flashes through her eyes before she squares her shoulders and shuffles the papers in front of her practically guts me. My entire body revolts at the prospect of hurting her. It’s the last thing I want to do in the world, but I don’t know how else to put some distance between us.

I could so easily see myself falling for her, and that can’t happen.

She pulls out her color-coded notes and almost robotically starts going through them. She shows me her process and then hands me a blank sheet.

“Here.” Her tone is anything but light. It’s infused with hurt.

She’s careful not to make eye contact with me as she pulls out a textbook and instructs me on where to start.

“Lily, I—,” I start to say remorsefully but she interrupts me.

“No, I get it. We don’t need to have a conversation about it. I would rather skip that whole awkward interaction anyway.”

She’s trying to let me off the hook and I should want to take it without question, but it doesn’t feel right. Nothing about tonight does.

When I don’t say anything, she asks, “Can we just move on?” Her expression is giving little away.

I simply nod because what the hell else am I supposed to say?

I dutifully listen as she explains the lesson, while feeling like a complete and utter asshole. Maybe this isn’t the best way to handle this. Maybe we could still be friends and it not distract me. But as second thoughts run amuck in my brain, Lily continues to act as though she couldn’t care less that I’m here in front of her.

I don’t try to fix it. I keep my mouth shut and listen as she lays out her outline for my upcoming test in one of my classes for business. I feel like I’m doing a fairly good job of listening until she pauses.

I look up from the paper to see that she’s watching me closely. Her eyes zero in on my hand. I look down to see what she’s staring at and notice that I’m tapping the table incessantly. I immediately stop. I didn’t even realize I was doing it to begin with.

“I didn’t mean for you to stop. Movement helps you absorb the material, Luka. Do you have your ball with you?” she asks .

“No, I forgot it.” I was too worried about how tonight would go to remember to grab the ball.

Her lips pucker as she searches around in her bag, which is sitting on the floor beside her. She grumbles a few times about not being able to find it until she exclaims suddenly. “ Ah ! There it is! I knew I had it in here. Take this.”

She reaches across the table with her palm closed around whatever she dug out of her bag. Her hand opens and drops something metal onto the wood table in front of me.

I have no clue what the hell it is. It’s in a ring shape and made of metal. It has what looks like little spikes that come together in a circle.

“Why does this look like a torture device?” I ask.

“Trust me, if I wanted to torture you, this isn’t how I would do it,” she says sarcastically.

“You have something you need to tell me, McKenna?” I ask playfully, and I immediately regret asking.

“Why would I need to tell you anything, Russo ?” she says with more venom in her tone than I’m prepared for.

Fair enough . I remind myself that is exactly what I wanted when I came here tonight. Lily not liking me is safer for both of us.

I pick up the torture device, deciding it’s best to leave her question unanswered. “What’s this for?”

“Put it on your finger. It’s used for ADHD or anxiety, but I read where it could be helpful to you, just like the ball. It gives your mind something to focus on in the background. You can spin it or just rub your fingers across it.”

I immediately feel shame for giving her a hard time when she went out of her way to find another tool for me to use to help with my studies. “I’m sorry.”

Her head snaps up and the hopeful look in her eyes makes me want to puke. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for making fun of it. Thank you for getting it for me.” It’s all I can manage because I sure as shit can’t apologize for anything else. I can’t afford to .

Her shoulders drop in disappointment, and her eyes narrow. I brace for her anger, but it never comes. She says nothing outside of going through the study material, and it’s painfully obvious that she’s avoiding any eye contact.

As fucked up as it sounds, considering I’m the reason she won’t look at me, I crave her green eyes on me. I want her attention, and I want to put a smile back on her face.

I don’t like the cold, indifferent Lily sitting across from me right now.

I’m the only one I can blame, though. This is what I said I wanted. What I said I needed in order to stay focused.

There’s no bitching out now.