The Hockey Captain's Secret Girl

3. He's In The Spotlights

"Hey?" I managed, my voice guarded.

"I’m Liam," he said, holding out a hand.

"Oh." I gave his hand a quick, polite shake, wanting this over with. "I’m Hailey."

He didn’t release my hand immediately. "I know."

"Excuse me?"

Liam smirked. "There hasn’t been another name spoken on this side of the campus since you walked through the door this morning. Hailey Cartenz, the mysterious stunner from Vancouver."

My blood ran cold. Damn it. This was the absolute last thing I wanted. No, this was the absolute last thing I was supposed to be, the center of attention.

"Please don't call me that," I whispered, pulling my hand away and wishing I could disappear. "And can you speak quietly?"

He looked genuinely amused, not sympathetic. "Why? It's not a crime to be beautiful, Hailey."

"It is when you’re trying to be invisible," I snapped, forgetting my shyness for a second in sheer frustration.

Liam chuckled and, without asking permission, pulled out the chair across from me. He sat down, leaning his elbows on the table with an irritating level of ease.

"I’m getting the feeling you’re not as easy to impress as everyone else here," Liam said. "Good. Most people are boring."

I was about to tell him I didn't care if he found me interesting when a sudden silence cascaded across the room, starting from the main entrance and rushing toward our corner like a physical force. It was the kind of quiet that meant something important, or something very dangerous, had just arrived.

Then, someone pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. They did it casually, without a single word of introduction, as if my presence, my space, and my opinion on their company were entirely irrelevant.

I turned my head sharply, ready to defend my territory, and immediately lost my train of thought.

My world stopped.

I knew this face. I knew the intense depth of those dark eyes, the sharp, devastating line of his strong jawline, and the calm, almost bored expression that hid a dangerous level of confidence. It was him. My knight in the black hat.

Only today, he was wearing a heavy, dark navy blue and silver varsity jacket.

For a moment, I forgot everyone else in the cafeteria. The air grew thick, and I felt a phantom warmth bloom across my hand, just from seeing him.

"You." The word escaped my lips like a traitorous secret.

The corner of his mouth twitched, lifting just a fraction. He leaned back, spreading his large frame casually over the table space.

"Hey," he said, his low, velvety voice vibrating through me. "Good to see you're still walking while not using your phone."

I felt my cheeks flush. "I remember your advice."

Liam looked between the two of us, his expression a mix of confusion and sudden realization. "Hold on. You two... you two know each other?"

"He's the one who helped me with the pickpocket yesterday," I said, pointing a finger at the giant next to me.

"Oh." Liam’s eyes widened, and he sat up a little straighter. His usual smirk was gone.

I looked around and, sure enough, the initial hush in the cafeteria had turned into a collective gasp. Every single student, from the jocks to the quiet study groups, was staring directly at our table.

This was the absolute worst nightmare I could have imagined. I was now part of a spectator sport.

"What is going on?" I asked Liam, a hint of desperation in my voice. "Why are they staring at you?"

Liam stared at me for a beat, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he looked at Brandon. A faint, knowing smile returned to his face, but it wasn't arrogant this time, it was almost supportive.

"Hailey."

"What?"

"You... you really don't know who he is?" Liam pointed a hand toward the man sitting next to me, whose dark gaze was still fixed entirely on me, ignoring the rest of the world.

"Am I supposed to?"

Liam looked like he was fighting the urge to burst out laughing. "You didn't see the giant mural on the main hallway on your way in? Or hear about the guy that literally every NHL scout in North America is fighting over?"

I stared at Liam. "No. I was a bit busy almost getting robbed."

"Okay," Liam said, giving Brandon a look that clearly communicated his amusement. "I really like her. Hailey, meet your tablemate, Brandon Walker."

I blinked. I looked at Brandon’s calm, devastatingly handsome face. Then, I looked at Liam. Then, my mind flashed back to Lily this morning. Hockey. Captain. Ice King. All the girls are crazy about him.

I forced my eyes to drop to the logo embroidered on Brandon’s heavy varsity jacket. It was a large, silver 'C' stitched proudly in the center, and below it, the logo for the university's hockey team.

No. Oh, no.

The cafeteria had grown so silent I could hear the hum of the lighting fixtures above us.

"You..." I looked back at Brandon, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. The protective arrogance, the athleticism, the way everyone separated when he walked past.

Brandon erupted in a low, deep laugh, the sound sending a shockwave of adrenaline straight to my heart. "You really have been busy today, Stranger," he said, a warm, dangerous light igniting in his dark eyes. "Welcome to the spotlight."

"Hockey?" I blinked slowly, the word feeling foreign on my tongue.

Before I could even process my sudden thrust into the campus limelight, another towering figure dropped into the empty seat next to Liam. Great. Splendid. I had explicitly come to this corner to be alone, and now my table looked like a casting call for an Abercrombie & Fitch winter catalog.

"Hey, I'm Noah," the newcomer announced, immediately pointing a finger at me. He had a crooked, boyish grin and a mop of messy brown hair. "You're the mythical new girl who doesn't know who Brandon is, right? The guys in the back are already taking bets."

"See?" Liam thrown his hands up, looking vindicated.

"What?" I was practically speechless. They had caught me dead in the act. I was officially that person, the clueless freshman at Toronto University who didn't know the local royalty.

Lily, if you can hear me, you owe me so much for not being here right now.

"Look at her," Noah chuckled, leaning forward. "That is the exact face of someone having a massive lightbulb moment."

Brandon shook his head, a look of amused resignation washing over his sharp features. For some reason, the lack of ego in his reaction made me want to smile. Was it really such a crime for a newbie not to know him? Back in Vancouver, I rarely watched hockey. It wasn’t my fault.

Though, looking at him now, at the sheer breadth of his shoulders beneath that varsity jacket, it all made sense. The guy was built like a brick wall. He could probably lift me with one hand without even breaking a sweat.

Wait. Why the hell am I thinking about that? Hailey, get a grip.

"I'm not really into sports," I finally confessed, trying to sound casual as I straightened my posture. "That's why I didn't recognize you."

Brandon shifted his dark gaze back to me, studying my face for a beat before giving a slow, approving nod. "Good. In that case, you're sparing me from having to talk about game stats over lunch."

A genuine laugh escaped my lips. "Don't worry, I wouldn't even know what to ask."

Despite their intimidating sizes and the ridiculous amount of hype surrounding them, they were actually making it easy to relax. They didn't seem malicious. But the brief moment of comfort vanished the second I looked past Noah's shoulder.

The dozens of eyes staring at us hadn't wavered. In fact, the glare from a table across the aisle had turned downright lethal.

A group of girls, all wearing matching, perfectly tailored clothes, were staring at me like I had just committed a federal crime. The girl in the center, a stunning blonde with a venomous expression, was gripping her iced coffee so tightly I thought the plastic cup might shatter.

Our eyes locked. Her gaze was ice-cold, dripping with a kind of possessive hatred that sent a chill straight down my spine. I didn't even know her name, but my gut immediately screamed at me.

Trouble.

That girl was pure, unadulterated trouble, and I was currently sitting in her line of fire.

My first day at Toronto University had officially gone from a fresh start to a complete disaster. The mystery guy who had saved my life last night wasn't just some attractive stranger passing through the dark.

His name was Brandon Walker. He was the varsity hockey captain.

He was the undisputed campus heartthrob, the guy everyone at this university had their eyes on—and now, thanks to a stolen bag and a piece of toast, I was stuck sitting at his table with half the campus wanting me dead.

Damn it.