Page 3 of The Rule Breaker (Colton U Playbook #1)

RYAN

“ A bsolutely fucking not.”

Austin’s bloodshot eyes lock onto mine as I lean against the wall, holding what would’ve been his tenth drink of the night.

“Come on, man,” he slurs, swiping for the cup. “Just one more.”

I yank the cup back, watching as he nearly topples over. Jesus . “I told you to get your shit together. We have a game tomorrow. You really think showing up half-dead is the move?”

He scoffs, stumbling backward and nearly taking out two girls passing behind him. “I’m not drunk.”

To prove his point, he attempts to walk in a straight line, only to bulldoze straight into a side table, sending a vase crashing to the floor.

“Fuck,” he mutters, staring at the shattered pieces. “Where the hell did that come from?”

I drag a hand down my face. I love the guy, but fuck, he’s a walking liability.

Nathan lets out a long sigh, then steps in and hooks an arm under Austin’s. He groans as Nathan tries to haul him upright. “Jesus, you weigh a ton,” Nathan grits out.

Austin gasps dramatically. “Rude. I’m bulking.”

Nathan rolls his eyes and, with one final grunt, heaves Austin onto the couch. Austin flops back against the cushions like a rag doll, until he spots the girl sitting beside him.

His head jerks up, a lazy grin spreading across his face. In one fluid motion, he throws an arm around her shoulder. “Hey,” he drawls. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

The girl barely glances at him before scooting as far away as the couch allows.

Nathan snorts. “Yeah, real smooth.”

Logan, standing nearby with his arms crossed, watches Austin sway in place. “Hate to break it to you, but you can barely stand on your own.”

Austin grins, slumping further into the couch. “That’s why I’m sitting, genius.”

Nathan grabs a water bottle off the table and chucks it at Austin’s face. It bounces off his forehead into his lap. “Sober up. We need you tomorrow.”

Austin blinks up at him with a lazy, wrecked grin. “You do?” he sighs dramatically, throwing his head back like this is the most touching declaration of his life.

Nathan scowls, shaking his head. “He acts like he’s my fucking kid.”

Logan elbows him, smirking. “Aw. How cute. Guess we know who the daddy of the group is.” But his amusement fades the second he glances at Austin, who’s now deadweight against the couch, head tilted back, mouth wide open, snoring.

He lets out a groan. “Dammit. He was supposed to be my wingman.”

Nathan raises a brow. “You need a wingman?”

Logan shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t need one. But it helps.” He tilts his head, eyeing Nathan. “You up for it?”

Nathan scoffs. “Watching you crash and burn? Absolutely.”

Logan huffs. “You really have no confidence in me?”

Nathan lifts his brows. “In a rookie who still hasn’t grown up? Yeah, not a chance.”

Logan smirks, poking his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “Don’t worry. My dick’s fully grown.”

Before I can drown out that horrifying sentence, his attention swings to me. He runs a hand through his messy blond hair. “What about you?”

Nathan snorts. “Ryan can barely talk to a girl, and you want him as your wingman?”

I can’t even argue with the guy. I’ve been here for half an hour, and the only thing I’ve accomplished is grabbing a beer… okay, two. But besides that? I’ve just been standing here, listening to these idiots.

Logan, of course, isn’t giving up that easily, his eyes locking on me. “You don’t even have to do much. Just stand there, look friendly, and if a girl brings up, like, astrology or some shit, nod and smile.”

I bite back a laugh, shaking my head. Normally, I wouldn’t mind helping a buddy out, but since Logan’s the rookie, he’s got to earn his stripes. Giving him shit is part of the deal.

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’m better off on my own anyway.” His lips curl into a smirk. “Bet I can get a girl to come upstairs with me in two minutes.”

Nathan lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Logan cocks his head. “You sure?”

Nathan’s expression doesn’t budge. “Positive.”

Without hesitation, Logan downs the rest of his drink, the gulp loud over the party noise. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Watch and fucking learn.”

He straightens, rolls his shoulders like he’s warming up for a game, then strolls toward a pair of girls huddled near the staircase, deep in conversation.

Nathan shakes his head. “This is gonna be good.”

I fold my arms across my chest, my amusement growing as I track Logan’s movements. The girls give him a once-over, their skepticism practically radiating off them. I almost feel bad for the guy.

But then, one of them laughs. Then the other. His grin stretches wider, and before I can even process it, he drapes an arm around both their waists. Just like that, he’s leading them up the stairs.

At the last second, he glances over his shoulder, locks eyes with us, and winks.

I blink. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Nathan’s mouth falls open. He looks from me to the staircase and back again, like he’s waiting for his vision to correct itself. “He didn’t—” He blinks a few times. “ Two girls? Two fucking girls?”

I run a hand down my face. “And I can’t even get one.”

Nathan’s gaze flicks to me, his brows drawing together. “Then why are you still talking to me? Relax and have some fun. We both know you desperately need it.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Pot, meet kettle.”

He ignores me, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m serious. You don’t have to carry the whole team on your back 24/7.

You might be captain, but that doesn’t mean it’s all on you.

” His lips curl into a smirk. “Have a drink. Find a girl. Take her home.” He tilts his head.

“Matter of fact, find a bedroom upstairs. I’m not trying to hear any moaning through the walls tonight. ”

I roll my eyes. “Fuck you. I do not moan.”

Nathan grins. “No, but the girl will.”

I’m about to shove him when a sharp shout cuts through the music. My head snaps toward the far end of the room, where Cole has some guy pinned against the wall, fists clenched. “Fuck my life,” I mutter, already pushing off the couch.

Nathan’s arm shoots out, pressing a hand against my chest before I can take another step. “I got it.”

My jaw tightens, but I let him handle it, watching as he grabs Cole’s arm and yanks him back. This isn’t new. Cole’s got a temper. Loves to fight. He’s a right-wing for a reason.

Across the room, Tommy, the frat leader, sneers, beer sloshing over the rim of his cup. “Fucking told you hockey pricks,” he says, jabbing a finger in Cole’s direction. “If one of you started shit, you wouldn’t be welcome here anymore. Get the fuck out.”

Cole’s jaw flexes, his hands balling into fists. “Fuck you.” He shoves Tommy back a step. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Tommy blinks, lifting a brow. “Yeah? I’m sure your coach would love to hear about his underage players getting wasted at some random frat party.”

Nathan tightens his grip on Cole’s arm, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in. “And I’m sure the school would love to hear about all the underage drinking going on in this house.” His smirk widens. “This shit goes both ways, Tommy .”

Tommy’s jaw ticks. A second passes. Then another.

Finally, he exhales sharply, flicking his gaze to Nathan. “Get him out before you’re all kicked out.”

Nathan tugs at Cole’s arm. “Come on, man. It’s not fucking worth it.”

Cole stays rigid, muscles tight like he’s still debating whether to throw a punch. But after a tense beat, he exhales sharply through his nose and lets Nathan pull him toward the exit.

I drag a hand down my face and blow out a breath. I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight. If I’d just stayed in, I wouldn’t be dealing with this shit, I wouldn’t be freaking out about tomorrow and?—

“Hey, Ryan.”

The sound of my name cuts through my thoughts. I turn, finding two girls beside me, both flashing bright smiles.

“Hey,” I say, forcing one of my own.

The brunette steps closer, her eyes twinkling. “Good luck in the game tomorrow.”

Christ. I wish someone— anyone —would talk to me about something other than hockey for once in my life. It’s all I ever think about. I came here to stop thinking about it.

“Thanks,” I manage, forcing a half-smile.

Her friend, the one with light orange hair, places a hand on my arm, tilting her head. “You must be so nervous.”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Nah, I’m fine. Just trying to relax a little?—”

“You look so hot in your hockey gear,” the brunette interrupts, tugging her glossy lip between her teeth, eyeing me like I’m her next meal.

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. I’ve heard that one about eighty times freshman year. Nice to know it still works for some girls. Not on me, though. Not tonight. Right now, all I want is to get the hell out of here and take a hot shower.

“Thanks,” I mutter, already scanning the room for an exit. My gaze lands on Austin, who’s laughing with a girl curled up next to him, looking like he’s having the time of his life.

“Want us to help you release some tension?” The brunette’s voice drops, a playful lilt in her tone.

I glance down at them both, her friend grinning at the question, and god , this is every guy’s dream.

I push away from them, offering a tight smile. “I’ve got a massage gun at home, but thanks.”

Their expressions shift, dropping at the rejection. I feel the awkwardness hang in the air before I turn away, squeezing through the crowd toward the exit.

I don’t know why I thought coming out tonight would help clear my head. It hasn’t. I’m not the same guy I was in freshman year. I can’t just forget about hockey and party away like it’s?—

My rambling thoughts are interrupted when I get hit by someone and my skin chills as the liquid from their cup soaks into my shirt.

“Oh my god,” a female voice gasps. “I’m so sorry.”

Fuck . I grunt and glance down at my drenched t-shirt, feeling it stick to my skin. “It’s fine,” I mumble, wiping it off with my hand.