Mated To The Hockey Star

Chapter 6: A Missed Appointment

Jacob Whitaker cracked one eye open, only to be greeted by a sharp streak of sunlight stabbing through the blinds of his dorm room. His head throbbed like a drum, the lingering taste of last night’s alcohol still coating his tongue. He groaned, rolling onto his side, hoping to find his phone to check the time. Instead, his hand landed on a half-empty red plastic cup and the crumpled remains of some party flyer.

The room smelled faintly of sweat, beer, and stale cologne—a reminder of the celebration that had carried on until nearly dawn. He rubbed his temples, trying to piece together how much he’d drunk, how many people had been crammed into the off-campus house, and how exactly he’d stumbled back to his bed.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he caught the glowing red digits on the clock across the room.

12:07 p.m.

His stomach dropped.

Jacob shot upright, ignoring the pounding in his skull. “Shit.”

The appointment. Stella.

Their tutoring session had been at ten in the morning. He had promised himself he would show up on time after all the drama yesterday. Coach Simon had practically tied his scholarship to that promise, and Stella had made it clear she wasn’t going to play games with him again. And now—he was more than two hours late.

Jacob scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the mess of sneakers and hockey gear scattered across the floor. His roommate’s bed was empty, the sheets slightly disheveled. Paul was gone.

Jacob cursed under his breath. Normally, Paul was still around when he woke up late after a party, teasing him about sleeping half the day away. But now? Silence.

“Great. Just great.” He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, then searched for a shirt that didn’t smell like beer. Settling on a dark hoodie, he pulled it over his head, grabbed his phone and backpack, and shoved his feet into sneakers without socks.

The library. Maybe—just maybe—Stella was still there. Maybe she had stayed behind to study or give him one last chance. It wasn’t likely, but Jacob couldn’t face Coach Simon, or worse, Stella’s icy glare, without at least trying.

He dashed out of the dorm, jogging across campus despite the way his hangover screamed at him to slow down. Students passed him on their way to lunch, chatting casually, some giving him curious glances. Jacob didn’t care. Every second felt like a countdown toward disaster.

When he reached the library, his chest was heaving from the sprint. He pushed through the heavy glass doors, ignoring the librarian’s disapproving look as they creaked loudly.

The tutoring room—empty.

Jacob’s heart sank. The chairs were neatly tucked in, the whiteboard wiped clean, and not a single trace of Stella’s presence remained. Of course she hadn’t waited. She had no reason to. He had stood her up after she’d already dealt with his temper yesterday.

Jacob pressed his palms against the cool surface of the table, exhaling sharply. “Damn it.”

Footsteps sounded behind him. Jacob turned, still catching his breath.

It was Paul.

His best friend looked surprised to see him, eyebrows lifting as he stopped a few feet away. He was carrying his hockey stick, clearly on his way to practice.

“Jake?” Paul tilted his head. “Why the hell are you running around like you just lost your wallet?”

Jacob tried to straighten, forcing a casual shrug, though his voice betrayed him. “I—I missed it.”

“Missed what?” Paul frowned. “Don’t tell me…” His expression sharpened. “The tutoring session?”

Jacob avoided his gaze, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. It was at ten. I woke up… well, you know.”

Paul let out a low whistle. “Wow. You really screwed up this time.”

“Don’t remind me.” Jacob groaned, leaning against the table again. “Coach is gonna kill me. Stella’s probably already planning my funeral.”

Paul crossed his arms, shaking his head. “You had one job, Jake. Just show up. That’s it. I told you she’s serious about this stuff. She’s not gonna put up with your excuses.”

“I know!” Jacob snapped, then winced at his own sharpness. His head was still pounding, and his nerves were frayed. “I know, okay? I just… I didn’t mean to. The party—”

“The party.” Paul’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, because hockey glory and alcohol are way more important than the one person who can actually save your grades.”

Jacob glared at him, but Paul didn’t flinch.

“Look,” Paul continued, “if you don’t take this seriously, you’re going to lose everything. Coach won’t cover for you again. Stella won’t waste her time. And when that happens, don’t come crying to me.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jacob shifted uncomfortably, guilt gnawing at him. He wanted to argue, to tell Paul he was overreacting—but deep down, he knew his friend was right.

Paul softened slightly, sighing. “So what’s your plan now?”

Jacob hesitated. His mind raced. He couldn’t just wait until their next session—if Stella even agreed to another one. She deserved an explanation, maybe even an apology, though the thought of actually saying the words made his stomach twist.

“I don’t know,” Jacob muttered. “Maybe I should… I don’t know… talk to her. Somehow.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Somehow? You don’t even know where she is.”

Jacob grimaced. “Yeah. That’s the problem. I don’t know where she lives. All I know is she’s probably at home right now, writing me off as a total waste of time.”

Paul studied him for a moment, then shook his head. “Well, you’d better figure it out. Fast. Because the longer you wait, the worse it’s gonna get.”

Jacob watched as Paul walked past him toward the exit, his words lingering like a warning bell.

When the door closed behind him, Jacob sank into a chair, burying his face in his hands. The library was quiet again, too quiet, and every tick of the clock felt like a reminder of his failure.

What am I going to do?

Stella had probably already decided he wasn’t worth the effort. And maybe she was right. But something inside him refused to let it end like this.

The thought crossed his mind again—going to her house. Apologizing in person, showing her he wasn’t just another spoiled jock who didn’t care. But the truth hit him like a cold slap.

He didn’t even know where she lived.

As Jacob sat there in silence, his head throbbing and his thoughts spiraling, he realized this was the beginning of a problem much bigger than just a missed appointment.

And for the first time, the great Jacob Whitaker had no idea how to fix it especially considering how harshly he had treated Stella when she had showed up late.