Page 17 of The Rule Breaker (Colton U Playbook #1)

ISABELLA

I sink into the bleacher seat, the cold of the ice rink seeping through my jacket. I’ve always loved it here. It brings me back to those early mornings when my dad would wake Nathan and me up before the sun had even risen, pulling us out to his rink to skate.

Aurora drops into the seat beside me, immediately diving into her bag. A second later, she pulls out a crinkling bag of chips, a candy bar, and a small bag of popcorn.

I grin. “Came prepared, huh?”

She shrugs, already mid-chew. “Hockey games make me nervous. Food helps.”

I nod, stealing a chip from her bag. “Because of your boyfriend?”

She nods, munching through her nerves. “Yeah. I always hated watching him get slammed into the boards.”

I smirk, nudging her elbow. “I bet the part where you get to take care of him after was fun, though.”

Aurora lets out a quick laugh, but it fades almost instantly.

She sighs, staring down at the ice, fingers tightening around the candy bar.

“God, I hate this long-distance crap. He’s so far away, and we hardly ever talk.

He’s got games, practices, a whole life that doesn’t include me, and I just…

” She pauses. “He texts me to say whether they won or lost, but then… nothing. Hours of radio silence.” Aurora rips open her candy bar.

“I know he’s probably out with the guys, getting drunk…

maybe with some girl hovering around, trying to get his attention. ”

Something tightens in my stomach, and the question slips out before I can stop it. “And you’re okay with that?” I honestly couldn’t imagine living with that kind of uncertainty, not knowing what my boyfriend is up to or who he’s with.

Aurora snorts, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth.

“Of course not. But I’m not gonna sit here and obsess over it,” she says, tearing into the candy bar.

“What am I supposed to do? He’s out there, I’m here.

I can’t keep track of him every minute, right?

” She shrugs. “If he wants someone else, then by all fucking means. I’m not gonna beg him to pick me. ”

She says it like it doesn’t bother her, but I see the flicker of doubt in her expression.

“You guys have been together forever, right?” I say, nudging her lightly. “No way he’s throwing that away.”

Aurora exhales, glancing down at her snacks. “Yeah, I know.” She rolls her eyes, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Plus, there’s no way he can find someone hotter than me.”

I snort, bumping her shoulder. “Oh, how I love your humility.”

She grins, grabbing another handful of chips.

I glance at my phone, check the time, then type out a quick message to Ryan. He gave me his number the night he drove me back to my dorm—just in case I needed anything, since I was pretty out of it. I haven’t used it since, but this feels like as good a time as any.

Me:

Good luck on the game today.

I lean back in my seat, staring at the message for a second, suddenly way too aware of how nervous I feel. It’s just a text—so why does it feel like my heart is trying to climb up my throat?

The dots appear. Then freeze.

Then they start moving again.

Ryan:

You rooting for me, Curls?

A smirk tugs at my lips. I sneak a glance at Aurora, but she doesn’t even notice, too busy scarfing down her chips like they’re her last meal.

Me:

Seeing as my dad’s the coach of the team… yeah.

I hit send, and immediately, the three dots come back. My pulse quickens.

Ryan:

Wasn’t my question.

I asked if you were rooting for me.

Feed my ego, Isabella. I need it right now.

I roll my eyes, but the stupid grin stays on my face. I’m about to type something back when Aurora shifts beside me, giving me a knowing look.

“Is that him?” she asks, a smirk creeping in.

She doesn’t need to clarify who him is. We both know.

I roll my eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “Eat your chips.”

She chuckles, popping another handful into her mouth as I type out my reply.

Me:

I’m rooting for all the players on the team.

Ryan:

Isabella…

I bite my lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard before finally giving in.

Me:

I’m rooting for you, Ryan.

The second I hit send, my stomach twists with anticipation. The dots bubble on the screen, dancing for what feels like forever before his reply finally comes through.

Ryan:

I’ll make sure to score a goal just for you.

I chuckle, feeling a buzz in my chest, something light and stupid and completely impossible to ignore.

We haven’t really spoken since that night in the bar—since he pinned me against the wall and told me he doesn’t see my brother when he looks at me.

And yet, at practice, he hardly looks at me. Just a quick nod, then back to the ice, like that night never happened.

Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe I was just drunk out of my mind and imagined the whole thing.

I might have been drunk, but I made it clear—I wanted a rebound with him. And while I’d love to convince Ryan to fuck up his friendship with my brother, I can’t keep waiting around for someone who’s rejected me over and over.

I need to move on. Find someone else. Someone I can actually have fun with and forget about him.

The words slip out before I can stop them. “Have you ever had a one-night stand?”

Aurora pauses mid-chew, raising an eyebrow before shrugging. “Yeah, in high school. But I was absolutely wasted, can’t even remember his name.” She shakes her head with a small laugh. “But… yeah, it was kinda fun.”

I cringe. “God, I don’t think I could ever do that.”

She shrugs again, biting her lip. “I get it. It’s definitely not for everyone.” Then her eyes widen slightly as she studies me. “Are you still thinking about the rebound?”

I shake my head. “I was. But now… I don’t know. I think I need someone I actually know and trust.”

Aurora grins, nudging me. “Like Ryan?”

“No.” I laugh, nudging her back. “I’ve told you a million times, that’s not happening.”

She hums, rolling up the chip bag. “Mmm… I don’t know. You two were definitely flirting at the bar the other night.”

I narrow my eyes. “And what about you and Cole?”

Aurora scoffs. “You mean the literal Grim Reaper?” She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, we’re not talking about him. Why are you dodging the question, though?” Her brows shoot up, eyes gleaming. “Did something happen between you two?”

“No.” I shake my head. Nothing happened, technically. But then I pause, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. “Maybe?”

“Oh my god!” she squeals, practically jumping out of her seat. “I knew it! Tell me everything!”

I quickly glance around, noticing a few people looking our way.

“Calm down,” I mutter trying to keep my voice low.

“Nothing happened. I just… offered him the position of being my rebound, he declined and then pinned me to the wall and basically told me he wanted to fuck me but couldn’t because he’s friends with my brother. ”

Aurora makes a face and blows a raspberry. “Lame. God, guys can be such idiots. ”

I chuckle, shaking my head just as the players start skating onto the ice, one by one. The sharp sound of skates slicing the ice cuts through the buzz, followed by the thump of sticks tapping and the crack of pucks slamming into the boards during warmups.

Then the lights shift, and the starting lineup takes their positions.

I glance down, and there he is—Ryan. Number 27. His last name stretches across his jersey in bold letters, unmistakable even from up here. He leans forward, eyes locked in, every movement precise.

The ref drops the puck.

And just like that, the game explodes into motion and the crowd roars, rising to their feet.

Aurora leans into me, offering her chips. I take a couple, chewing them absently as I keep my eyes locked on the ice.

“You think the Wolves are gonna win tonight?” she asks.

I glance at her, blowing out a breath. “If the team can get their shit together. They’re playing well, but they’re getting outworked.

” I gesture toward the ice. “Look at that. They’re too aggressive on the forecheck.

They need to pull back and let the defense handle it, but they keep overcommitting. ”

Aurora laughs, clearly not grasping half of what I just said but nodding anyway. “Sure, Coach. ”

I focus back on the game, my mind racing through strategies.

Something’s off. The passes are a half-second too slow, the spacing’s all wrong, and no one’s stepping up to take control.

They’re playing like they’re stuck in their own heads—and if they don’t snap out of it soon, the other team’s going to walk all over them.

A Thunderhawk player shoves one of our guys into the glass behind the goal, the impact echoing through the arena. The whole crowd winces in unison. Gloves fly off, shoving turns into fists, and suddenly, a full-on brawl breaks out right in front of us.

Aurora launches out of her seat, her voice somehow cutting through the noise. “Yeah! Take your top off!”

I lose it, laughing so hard I have to clutch my stomach. A few people throw us judgmental glares, which only makes it funnier. I glance at Aurora, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” She shrugs. “Hockey players are hot,” she says with a wink.

I shake my head but turn back to the ice as the refs move in to break up the fight.

The Thunderhawk who shoved our guy skates off toward the penalty box.

Ryan skates over to Cole, patting him on the back, talking to him.

But he doesn’t see the Thunderhawk player coming up behind him.

My eyes widen as the player closes in, his body shifting with brutal speed.

Before I can even shout, the guy’s shoulder drives into Ryan’s with bone-crushing force, sending him hurtling into the boards.

The sickening crack echoes through the arena, and I feel my stomach drop as Ryan’s body jerks violently, crumpling to the ice.

The noise of the crowd vanishes, when he doesn’t move. My stomach knots so tight it hurts.

The trainer rushes onto the ice, dropping to his knees beside Ryan, checking him over.

Ryan is still on the ice.

Still not moving.

And I can’t look away.

“Is he okay?” Aurora’s voice barely reaches me, almost drowned out by the pounding in my ears.

I grip the seat in front of me, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. I don’t have an answer. I don’t know . “He has to be okay. He has to be,” I whisper.

Aurora’s hand suddenly clasps mine, her fingers firm, grounding me. I don’t even realize how badly I’m trembling until I feel her warmth, steadying me.

And then, just as my chest feels like it might explode, I see it. Ryan shifts, a small movement at first, and then he’s on one knee. Slowly. Wobbling. But he’s moving.

My shoulders drop in relief as he stands up, shaky. The knot in my stomach loosens a little as the crowd clap.

Aurora releases a long, shaky breath beside me. “He’s okay… he’s okay,” she whispers, squeezing my hand.

I nod, though I can hardly breathe, my eyes glued to Ryan as he makes his way off the ice. His steps are slow, every one of them showing how badly he’s been hit. He lifts a hand, a weak thumbs-up for the crowd, but it does nothing to reassure me.

The buzzer blares, signaling the end of the game and the opposing team erupts in cheers.

The other team won.