Page 1 of The Rule Breaker (Colton U Playbook #1)

RYAN

I think my virginity is growing back.

I don’t even know if that’s possible, but honestly, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.

I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months. Months . I’m starting to wonder if I’ve forgotten how to talk to girls altogether.

Not that I haven’t had opportunities. Because I have—plenty. But every time, something pulls me back. Hockey’s basically taken over my brain. I can’t stop thinking about how to improve my wrist shot or how to skate faster. Hell, I even dream about drills sometimes. It’s sad, I know.

My life is one giant loop of eat, sleep, hockey, repeat. I can’t even remember the last time I went to a party, or went out, or… well, did anything that didn’t involve breaking my body in half on the ice.

The familiar smell of sweat and hockey gear fills the locker room as skates come off with a click. I yank mine off, place the guard on, and toss them into my locker.

As usual, Austin’s phone is blasting some obnoxiously upbeat pop song as he bobs his head along, grinning, while half the guys groan in protest.

“Fuck, I’m dead,” Logan exhales dramatically as he drops onto the bench, shooting a look at Nathan. “Hayes, you think you can convince your dad to cut us some slack tomorrow?”

Nathan scoffs, shaking his head as he peels off his jersey. “Yeah, that’s not happening. My dad’s a beast.”

And he is. Coach Hayes is a goddamn legend, one of the best in the game. I respect the hell out of him, especially when he pushes us like that. We need it, especially after a practice like today.

“Heads up!” someone shouts.

I glance up just in time to catch a water bottle flying my way.

Twisting off the cap, I take a long gulp, letting the cold water slice through the dryness in my throat.

Around me, the guys are chirping each other, tossing jabs, but I can’t shake the weight of practice.

It’s stuck to me like the sweat on my back.

“You sure you’re not getting a contact high from your socks?” Logan laughs as he hurls his skates into his locker. “Pretty sure they could walk themselves to the laundry room.”

Austin scoffs, flipping Logan off. “Who told the rook he could talk trash? Worry about making the starting lineup, buddy.”

“Someone needs to tame your ego,” Cole says, raising a brow, his voice dripping with the usual deadpan sarcasm. His tattoos, which cover pretty much every inch of his neck and arms, make him look like he just stepped out of a biker gang—if biker gangs wore hockey jerseys and chewed gum 24/7.

The rest of the guys erupt into laughter, but I’ve already zoned out.

My eyes drop to the floor as I yank off my pads with a harsh breath.

Practice was rough. Our game against Crestmont is tomorrow and I’m still making dumb mistakes.

My strides were too slow; I missed the puck a handful of times.

I even somehow let the rookie knock me into the glass.

Fuck . I feel like I’m stuck on a broken record, repeating the same shit over and over. Skate faster, hit harder, play smarter. Always chasing the next win. And yet, somehow, it still feels like I’m not doing enough.

“We played like shit out there,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. The frustration spills out before I can stop it. “Maybe if you guys stopped bickering and actually pulled your weight, we’d play better.”

The laughter dies, leaving only the faint buzz of Austin’s playlist. A couple of guys glance at each other, awkward and unsure, before Austin—because of course it’s Austin—breaks the tension.

“Relax. We’ll get the win.” He flashes that cocky grin that makes me want to either roll my eyes or punch him. Sometimes both.

I settle for the former. “Yeah? You do realize if you fail your classes, we’re out a center forward, right?”

He leans back, crossing his arms. “I’ll pass… eventually,” he says, his smirk way too confident for someone who’s an F away from sitting on the bench for an entire season. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it under control.”

“Control?” I snort, zipping up my bag. “The only thing you’ve got control over is the playlist in here.”

“Hey.” Austin points a finger at me. “That’s important, and you know it. Helps keep morale up and shit.”

I bite back a laugh, shaking my head. Morale my fucking ass. His pre- and postgame rituals are so ridiculous they belong in a case study.

“Yeah, well, maybe start showing up to class,” I fire back. “I’m not kidding, Austin. If you tank your grades, we’re screwed.”

His grin falters for a split second, just long enough for me to notice. But then he shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. “Relax, Reed. I got this.”

I shake my head, stuffing my gear in my bag. As much as I want to just let it go, I can’t. Hockey’s not just a game to me. It’s my future. If one of us slips, it hurts the whole team. He should know that by now.

Grabbing my towel, I head for the showers without another word. I’ve got enough on my plate without adding Austin’s bullshit to the mix.

The water hits my skin, hot and scalding, but it doesn’t do much to clear my head.

The game, the guys, the constant pressure surrounding me every single day…

it’s all closing in, and no amount of hot water is going to wash that away.

I lean my forehead against the cold tile, letting out a long, slow breath.

I miss the way things used to be. Freshman year, hockey was fun. School was manageable. Back then, I could do it all—games, parties, school. Now it’s like I’m on autopilot, stuck in some never-ending loop of practices, drills, and trying to stay ahead.

I finish up quickly, shutting off the water before wrapping my towel around my waist. When I step back into the locker room, Austin spots me, his grin widening. “Party tonight,” he says, tossing a balled-up towel in my direction. “You in?”

I catch the towel and toss it back, shaking my head. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Stuff like watching game footage?” Austin asks, arching a brow. “You can’t be serious, man. It’s Friday night. Loosen up a little. Maybe touch some grass or, I don’t know… an actual human being.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, but the words feel hollow even as they leave my mouth. I know I won’t go. I’ll spend the night at my desk, buried in notes and clips from tonight’s practice, trying to figure out what went wrong. That’s what I do. That’s who I am now.

“Ah, fuck,” Nathan mutters, yanking off his jersey with a frustrated sigh.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, glancing at him as he lingers by his locker.

He rubs his forehead, groaning. “Forgot my sister started school today. She’s on her way to campus right now. I should go help her out, make sure she doesn’t get lost or end up in some weird frat house.”

Austin perks up immediately, his eyebrows practically launching off his face. “Another Hayes on campus? Damn, is she cute?”

Nathan spins on him so fast that Austin flinches. “Doesn’t matter,” Nathan growls. “She’s off-limits,” he warns, his eyes scanning the room. “If any of you fuckers even think about touching my baby sister, then you’ll have me to deal with. I’m serious. Hands off. All of you.”

I smirk, not fazed by his warning—monk routine and all that.

I’m not hooking up with any girls, let alone Nathan’s sister.

He’d break my legs before I could even say hello.

Besides, I’ve known Nathan since freshman year.

He’s become like a brother to me, and the last thing I’d ever do is cross that line.

“What if she thinks about touching me?” Austin asks with a shameless wink.

Nathan’s eyes narrow, and I swear I can hear his jaw clench from across the room. “You want me to kick your ass in front of the whole team?”

Austin winces, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Nah, I’m good. My ass is sore enough as it is.”

“The hell?” Cole asks, leaning against his locker with a raised brow, gum still rolling between his teeth. “What the fuck have you been doing?”

Austin chuckles. “Some girl thought spanking me would be fun.”

The room pauses for a beat with every head turning his way.

“And?” I ask, a little too intrigued to hide it. Sue me—it’s been months since I’ve felt a girl’s hand anywhere near my ass.

“Kinda was,” he admits with a shrug. “But it hurt like a bitch the next morning.”

The room breaks out into laughter and I breathe out a laugh, shaking my head. Jesus. Austin is out there getting spanked, and the closest thing I have to a date, is my right hand.

Hockey’s my life, no doubt, but damn, I miss the other stuff. I miss sex. I miss kissing a pretty girl. Hell, I even miss watching these idiots get hammered.

“You seriously not coming out tonight?” Austin asks, elbowing me. “I need a wingman.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Yeah, you’re good, man. You don’t need one.”

Austin could walk into a room, flash that cocky grin, and walk out with half the room’s phone numbers before finishing his first drink.

“Come on,” he groans, dragging the word out. “One night, Cap. We win tomorrow regardless. You’re wound tighter than a drum. I’m seriously worried for you.”

I laugh despite myself, but damn if he isn’t right. My shoulders are practically locked in a permanent knot from all the tension I carry. I’ve buried myself in schoolwork and hockey for so long that I’ve forgotten how to have fun.

And fuck, do I miss it.

I let out a long breath. Maybe, just for tonight, I could let all the responsibility shit slide. “Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath with a shake of my head. “I’m in.”

Austin lights up like a damn kid at Christmas, throwing a playful punch at my shoulder. “Finally! Let’s get you outta that dry spell.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He lets out a scoff, tapping me on my back. “Please. You think I can’t tell when someone’s so backed up they’re walking around like a damn statue?” He gives me a once-over, tilting his head. “Your right arm’s looking a little too swole, man. Dead giveaway.”

I shake my head, giving him a shove. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

He laughs, undeterred, swinging his bag over his head. “You’ll thank me later, Cap. Trust me, the team’ll play better with you a little less… wound up.”

I snort, grabbing my bag. “I’m not thanking you for this.”

Austin winks, already halfway out the door. “You will.”

I roll my eyes, but a laugh escapes me anyway.

Guess I’ll find out tonight.