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QUENTIN

I t was pretty fucking wild to see how much my life had changed in a year. When my dad was still alive, he’d always say everything happened for a reason. Life was supposed to go how it did to get us where we’re at now. As a dumbass teenager, I thought he was weird as hell.

Now though?

He was right.

“I still can’t believe you’re not living in the hockey house.”

My sister, Audrey, stared back at me through my phone. She was two years older than me, and due to our shitty mom and sick dad, she practically raised me. We went from being best friends, to me being an ass and taking advantage of her, to now being closer than ever. In a fun twist of fate that I now think my dad somehow created, wherever the hell he was, I got injured at the end of freshmen season, and it forced me to grow up. My dad and I weren’t close when I was a kid, and it was strange to think of him more now than I did when he was around.

It was tough to admin you were the worst version of yourself for a few years. I hurt people. I hurt my sister. But these were all factors that led me to where I was today—refusing to take a single penny from my sister. Hence, not living at the house and choosing the cheaper option. It made sense financially even if it wasn’t my preference. The team was my only family, and I’d moved out. At least Preston was here, but he and I were never close.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help? It wouldn’t be a big deal to help out a little, Quentin.” Audrey asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Auds, no.” I glared at her, my heart racing at the reminder of last year. “I meant what I said. You don’t need to take care of me. I like the house. It’s big, and the backyard is nice.” Not that I’d be spending time out there. I lived at the gym or rink. I had to prep myself physically for the season, as well as mentally. That meant time at the gym, meal plans, and watching film from last year to fine-tune my weaknesses. There were plenty. “Plus, worrying about budgets and spreadsheets feels so much like Dad that I feel close to him. It’s kinda weird.”

She was the only person I’d share that with. She understood. Her face softened, and she sighed. “I know what you mean. I was working on this formula to predict rent for the year and thought of the time he was so mad he threw his laptop in the trash.”

“And then immediately took it out.” I chuckled. One of the things Audrey and I got better at was remembering the good memories with our family. Audrey was estranged from our mom, and due to that, I struggled.

I hated how our mom treated my sister. But I loved my mom. She’d taken me to every practice growing up, she bought my gear, cheered for me louder than anyone else. She’d drive me to the rink at five a.m. to let me practice, all before anyone woke up. She gave up so much of her life for me years ago, and I’d never be able to repay her for that. It’s what made our family divide so difficult. It meant that I fucking had to make it into the NHL or it all would’ve been for nothing. The thought of not making it… it caused me to spiral out of control. I had to succeed.

Audrey insisted I not cut ties with our mom because of her, but cutting her out of my life was a constant war. How could someone I love be so cruel to their daughter? She was a different parent to me than Audrey, and I didn’t get how.

A door opened and shut, the sound of jingling keys carrying over the phone.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Damn, Theo just got home. There’s a team event tonight for the families, and I’m nervous as hell.”

“Why?” I shook my head. Her fiancé, Theo Sanders, and I had an interesting relationship. Not only was he the one who’d injured me, but he helped me grow the fuck up. He helped me realize the only person to blame was myself, and once I did that, my life became better. He was perfect for my sister, and I legit couldn’t be happier for either of them. They lived in Minnesota now, where he was drafted to the Acorns.

Any bitterness toward the draft was shoved to the back of my brain, where it would remain. It lived there, untouched, because it had the power to destroy me. Living with your failed dream was brutal, especially when others kept fulfilling theirs.

I missed my chance of being drafted early. I was past the age. My sole hope now was to have the next two seasons be my best so I’d get an agent when I graduated or an offer from an NHL team. I never planned to finish my degree—but now I had no choice. I either played my ass off the next two seasons or I’d miss my only chance at making it pro. I was nothing without hockey. I swallowed down the gross taste of anger and forced myself to focus on my sister. Really listen to her answer and not just wait to respond.

That was something else I’d learned in my two years as an asshole—very few people listened to you. Most just waited to speak without caring what was said. “Why are you nervous about the event?”

“We’re young and engaged. They could think we’re stupid and judge us.” Her face paled, and she closed her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because we really don’t have family, and seeing all the large ones will make me sad.”

“Auds.” I sighed and wished she was here, where I could hug her. “Theo’s family is your family now, and fuck anyone who judges. You and Theo have lived through more shit than anyone I know.”

“That’s true.” She made a raspberry with her lips but then her face lit up when Theo slid beside her.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head before grinning at me. “Q, dude, how’s it going? Moving out of the hockey house? That is honestly the right choice. No good comes from that place.”

I snorted. “That’s true.”

“You feeling loose? Skating well?”

We talked about preseason and workouts before they said goodbye to start getting ready. Jealousy didn’t suit me. It reminded me of how much of an asshole I’d been for the last two years. The hot, poisonous feeling would get under my skin and make me want to attack everyone before they could piss me off. I was happy for my sister and Theo. Truly.

Yet, I wanted the life they had so fucking badly. Theo had signed with a pro team, which came with a bonus. Audrey got a nursing job near the stadium. They had each other, and his family took her in—hell, they took me in too even though I didn’t deserve it.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I tossed my phone on my new bed. I had to get out of the small space. The hockey house always had music blaring or a drink to have. This place was quiet. Calm. It sucked. The distractions helped me escape my own thoughts, and there weren’t enough sounds to keep my mind busy.

I bolted down the stairs, not quite sure what my plan was besides distract, but my mind was derailed after seeing Logan sitting at the used kitchen table with large white headphones, her hair in braids, and her shoulders moving.

She was cute as hell. Her button nose and long blonde hair paired well with her pillowy pink lips and large brown eyes. It was clear Jordan was the wild one, Logan the more sensible friend. But seeing her sit there smiling, so at peace with whatever she was doing on her laptop, made me smile.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there staring at her, but her gaze met mine, and she gasped. “Jesus!”

“My bad.” My face heated at getting caught. I glanced down but only noticed her rainbow nail polish. It charmed me.

“No, you’re okay. I didn’t see you there. I get lost in my playlists sometimes. I’ve been told it’s ridiculous.” She set her headphones on the table, her cheeks bright red with blush.

“Ridiculous?” I shook my head as I neared the other side of the table. “I’m jealous. I wish I could lose myself in music like that.”

“Dude, you probably do when you’re on the ice.” Her eyes got all big, almost like she was saying no shit.

“Sure, but off the ice? I don’t have anything like that.” I ran a hand over my jaw, curiosity overtaking me. “You had this smile… what are you working on?”

“Okay, well, now this is embarrassing.” She chewed her bottom lip and scrunched her nose, the combination absolutely ridiculous. “So, I like to keep stats.”

“Stats,” I repeated.

“Yes. You know, you’re an athlete.” She stared at the microwave, then the sink, but not my face.

“I’m familiar with the term, yes.” Damnit. She was making me smile.

“I track books I read with this self-tracker template I found online, completely free. I manipulate the spreadsheet and color coordinate by genre, then I have my rankings and review, then the author listed and where the story is on their backlist.”

She spoke so fast, without breathing. Her eyes lit up, and her blush climbed down her neck. It was so nerdy, but I loved when people loved things. Between her adorable expression and geeking out, all I could manage was saying, “Wow.”

Her face fell, and I immediately felt like a dick.

“Wait, no?—”

“I know it’s dumb.” She shut her laptop and stood. “I should finish unpacking.”

“Logan,” I interrupted her, hating the way her shoulders curved inward. “I think my wow was misunderstood.”

Her gaze met mine, her lips twitching. “That was a fun sentence. Your wow was misunderstood?”

I snorted, and a beat passed between us. “I don’t think your tracker is dumb at all. I love when people are into something. You’re a little sheet nerd. Cute.”

Her grin doubled in size. “Jordan calls me a sheet slut.”

I barked out a laugh, amused as hell. “Logan, the sheet slut.”

“I can’t really add it to my resume, but yeah, I love tracking things. My dad has this sheet where he writes down every hockey game he’s ever been to, who played, and who coached, who scored, all that. We don’t really go to games anymore since Carly Jean came.” She shrugged. “I guess I come by stat tracking naturally.”

Logan spoke fast and a lot, her thoughts moving from one to the other. It was damn refreshing even though I had more questions.

“Who is Carly Jean?”

Her eyes softened, and I couldn’t recall a single person I had ever met who wore their emotions on their face like she did. She was an open book—ha—like the ones she tracked.

“That’s my little sister. She’s five and was a total surprise to my parents. She changed our lives but in the best way.” She blew out a breath and pushed some loose curls behind her ears. “I miss her. Moving out with her at home was hard.”

“My sister relocated to Minnesota a few months ago.” I gripped the back of my neck, the sharp pang in my chest returning. “I’ve lived near her my entire life and now I don’t. It’s…I’m adjusting.”

“Are you two close?”

I nodded, the words clogged in the back of my throat. Close wasn’t the right word. She practically raised me. Took care of me. Was my closest friend. The person I’d hurt so badly. She said all was forgiven, but I hadn’t forgiven myself. That was another reason I had to make it to the NHL—to prove to her that she’d raised me well, then I could pay her back. Theo had money, so it wasn’t that Audrey needed any, but I wanted to return the gesture to her in a way that cleared my own guilt.

“I’m sorry, Quentin.” She reached over and squeezed my forearm, then let go with panic on her face. “That was a sympathy squeeze, sorry. Didn’t mean to touch you. I’m sure you hate all the fans touching you.”

“Just like my wow, you might be misunderstanding what fans do.” I smiled, the third time in a few minutes. I was breaking records at this point. “But thank you for the sympathy squeeze.”

“Anytime.” Logan beamed just as Jordan burst into the kitchen. Logan’s attention moved away from me to her best friend, and it was weird to miss her focus. “Why do you look like murder, Dan?”

“I mean do I need more than one reason? The plight of women? The way Preston looks great just waking up without any effort?”

“When you put it that way, that tracks.” Logan chuckled as Jordan plopped down on the chair next to her.

“I need some vibes. What’s your latest?” Jordan opened the laptop and squinted at the screen. “Someone has been in a mood.”

“Well, messy stressy is still my favorite.”

I had zero fucking clue what they were talking about, but they clearly understood each other in a way people who had been in each other’s lives for decades would. Jordan leaned her head on Logan’s shoulder as they stared at her screen, the two of them in their own world.

“This one.” Logan beamed as music played from her device. “Charli XCX, 360, song of the summer. Started the theme for the entire one.”

Jordan stood up and danced, her arms going every direction as Logan watched. Joy radiated from the two of them, and I felt like an intruder. I stepped backward, hitting the corner of the chair, causing them both to look at me.

“I’m leaving, carry on your dance party, please.”

“Dude, Log’s playlist game is unmatched. If you need a list for a mood, let her know. She’s gotten me through every bad moment in my life.” Jordan spun Logan around in a circle, Logan’s face beaming with pride.

“I’m pretty competitive about my playlists.” Logan shrugged but then Jordan did a hip gyration movement, and they burst into giggles. I left them in the kitchen with a half-smile on my face because my new roommates might not be hockey guys, but damn.

They were fun in their own way. Even though I couldn’t have any distractions with the challenge of the next two seasons, I wanted to learn more about Logan, the girl with the spreadsheets and the playlists and the smiles.