One Night with the Hockey Captain

RULES I BROKE

NOLAN

I left the room with the taste of her still on my mouth and the sick feeling that I had f****d up beyond repair.

The hallway was darker than it had been earlier. I braced one hand on the wall for a second, then forced myself down the stairs before anyone could see me coming out of that particular door.

Dylan was going to kill me. I’d slept with Tessa Brooks.

I’d known her for years, but never really looked at her. Not like that. She was just the kid who showed up at family dinners and hockey games, the one who'd sit on the couch with a book while the rest of us talked s**t about hockey.

Then there were those grey-green eyes. The way her voice had changed from the one I remembered.

I had rules. Simple ones. Don’t touch what’s off-limits. Don’t cross a line you can’t uncross. And never, under any circumstances, sleep with your best friend’s little sister.

I’d broken every one of them tonight. And the worst part was, I couldn’t even pretend I hadn’t wanted to.

The alcohol had been real, but I hadn't been so drunk that I didn't know exactly who was with me. I knew. I just didn't stop. And that was the part I couldn't shake.

I’d wanted her. Not because she needed someone to make her feel better. I wanted Tessa. I’d taken what she offered and then blamed the bottle the second it was over, because it was easier than admitting I’d wanted it sober too.

I pushed through the front door and sat down hard on the top step of the porch, phone already in my hand. The cold air helped a little, but not enough. I was in no shape to drive.

I texted Dylan.

Nolan: You still here?

The reply came a minute later.

Dylan: Nah, already on the road back. It’s a long drive to my campus. Everything good?

Nolan: Yeah. Fine.

I locked the screen and dropped my head into my hands. A few seconds later the door opened behind me and Mason stepped out, keys already spinning around one finger.

“There you are,” he said. “You look like shit.”

“Feel like it.”

He eyed me for a second, then nodded toward his car. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”

I didn’t argue. I stood up, a little too carefully, and followed him to the passenger side.

The whole drive, I told myself the same thing I’d told her. It was a mistake.

By the time I hit the ice the next afternoon, I wanted to believe it. The problem was, I couldn’t.

-*-

Practice was brutal. I made it brutal on purpose.

I had the forwards running suicide sprints until two of them bent over the boards, gasping. When Morrison floated a lazy pass across the neutral zone I blew the play dead and skated straight at him.

“Again,” I said. “And if you gift them the puck like that in a real game I’ll make sure you sit the next one.”

Morrison’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Got it, Cap.”

I didn’t let up. Every dump-in had to be perfect. When one of the rookies hesitated on a hit along the boards I stopped the drill completely.

“You see the number on his jersey or are you just scared of contact?” My voice carried across the ice. “Finish the check or get off the ice.”

The kid’s ears went red. He finished the next one hard enough that the boards rattled.

Mason skated up beside me during a water break, watching me with a knowing look.

“You’re in a mood.”

“I’m running practice.”

“You’re running them into the ground.” He took a long drink from his bottle.

“Drop it.”

“Just saying. Usually when you’re like this it’s because—”

I shot him a look that shut him up. He raised both hands in mock surrender and skated off, but I could still feel him watching me.

Coach finally blew the whistle and called us in. He stood at the center line with his arms crossed, eyes on me longer than anyone else.

“That’s enough for today,” he said. “West. My office after you change.”

A few of the guys exchanged glances. I just nodded once and headed for the tunnel.

In the showers, I turned the water as hot as it would go and stood under it longer than necessary, hoping the heat would clear my head. It didn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that room. Her face. Her voice. The way she'd looked at me when I finally gave in.

I twisted the handle off, and the pipe rattled somewhere behind the wall.

Whatever Coach wanted, I could deal with. Getting Tessa out of my head was proving harder.

Staying away from her seemed like the obvious solution. For the next three days, I made sure I did exactly that.

Then I saw her.

She was standing near the entrance of the arena after practice, alone this time, talking to one of the trainers. Her dark, wavy hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she was swallowed up in an oversized sweatshirt. Somehow, she still caught my attention from across the room. My pulse jumped hard enough that I almost missed a step.

Mason was still in the locker room. I kept walking.

“West.”

I stopped mid-step and turned. She was closer now, arms wrapped around herself like she was cold even though the hallway was warm.

“What are you doing here?” I managed.

“Watching practice. Is that a problem?”

“Yeah. It is.”

She tilted her head, that familiar little gesture making me wonder if she knew exactly what she was doing. “Since when are open practices exclusive?”

“Since you decided to show up looking like that.” I exhaled through my nose. “Go home, Tessa.”

“I live on campus. This is closer than home.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re acting like I followed you into the shower. I came to watch the team, in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget a single f*****g thing.” I stepped closer, dropping my voice. “We talked about this. You’re not supposed to be in my space.”

“Your space.” She laughed once. “The arena belongs to the university, Captain. Not you.”

I stared at her. She stared right back.

“Stay away from me,” I said. “I’m not asking.”

She didn’t move. “You already got what you wanted. You don’t get to decide where I stand now.”

I walked away before I said something worse.

The next week was its own kind of hell. She started showing up everywhere, at games, at the coffee shop near the athletic center. Even at one of the hockey house parties, despite having every reason to stay away.

I'd hear her laughing somewhere across a crowded room, and suddenly I couldn't focus on whatever conversation I was having. I kept telling myself it didn't mean anything.

Then the same thought would creep in every time I saw her.

What if she went back to Chase? What if he got another chance and she took it because I'd made her feel like a mistake?

I spotted them outside the library just after dark. Tessa was walking alone, her bag slung over one shoulder, when Chase stepped out from the side of the building and moved into her path.

I should have kept walking. Instead, I slowed near the bike racks, far enough that neither of them noticed me yet, and watched.

Chase said something I couldn’t hear. Tessa shook her head and tried to step around him, but he moved with her, blocking her path. She shoved at his chest, but he caught her wrist. She twisted free and pushed him again, her voice rising enough to draw a couple of glances from students farther down the path.

“Get off me—”

He didn’t. He caught both her arms this time, said something and then suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, pinning her against him like he had any right. Her whole body went still.

That was it. I crossed the distance quickly, grabbed Chase by the back of the collar, and hauled him off her hard enough that he stumbled.

“Get your f*****g hands off her.”

He barely had time to turn before my fist connected with his jaw. The impact shot up my arm. He hit the ground on one knee, hand flying to his face.

Tessa’s eyes were wide. “Nolan… what the hell—”