Ruined on Ice

Chapter Nine

~Taylor~

My phone rang just as I was zipping up my duffel bag after practice. Maverick Stone flashed across the screen, and my stomach did a somersault. I stared at it for two rings before answering.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause. “Hey. I’m at Linden but……I’m not exactly sure where the athletic center is. This place is a maze. I'm supposed to know since I've been here for some games, but I'm sorry, it's never quite stuck.”

His deep voice sent a little shiver down my spine. I swallowed, trying to sound normal. “I’ll come meet you. Where are you parked?”

“Big lot near the main entrance. Black truck.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

I hung up, heart already racing. It’s fake. It’s fake. It’s fake. You are fake dating him. It is all for show. I repeated them like a mantra as I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out.

I quickly texted the group chat with Becky and Samantha.

Me: He’s here. Picking me up now. Wish me luck.

Becky: YOU KISSED HIM AND NOW HE’S PICKING YOU UP?!?! Ship name incoming. MavTaylor? StoneJensen?

Samantha: This is the best thing that’s happened all week 😂

Me: It’s FAKE, guys.

Becky: Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Samantha: Let us have our fun!!! Send pics. Or details. Preferably both.

I laughed under my breath and shoved my phone into my jacket pocket. The cold evening air nipped at my cheeks as I crossed campus, and I exhaled.

My nerves were on edge. This was the first real time we would be together since that impulsive kiss in the quad. What were we even supposed to talk about? Damn it. You're overthinking it, Taylor.

I spotted his truck immediately. Maverick was leaning against the driver’s side, his arms crossed. He wore a black sleeveless hoodie that did absolutely nothing to hide the power in his arms and shoulders. Every muscle was on display, corded and defined from years of hockey. He looked ridiculously hot standing there under the parking lot lights.

I swallowed hard. Damn. He really had aged well from that scrawny boy I had liked then.

He straightened when he saw me, hazel eyes locking onto mine. A small, crooked smirk tugged at his lips.

“Well, hello, Jensen.”

“Hello, Stone,” I replied, trying to match his casual tone. “You finally remembered I exist.”

He pushed off the truck, shaking his head. “It’s not like that.”

“Hmm.”

He paused, studying me. “Were you bothered by that?”

“Of course not,” I lied quickly. Too quickly.

He just hummed, and I hated that I could tell he didn't believe a single word. "If you say so," he quipped, and then walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door for me without a word and offered his hand to help me up into the lifted truck.

Ooooo. What a gentleman. Who knew?

His palm was warm and rough with calluses, and the brief contact sent heat rushing up my arm.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, settling into the seat. It smelled like him, faint mint, and perhaps oud.

Maverick climbed in on the driver’s side, the truck rumbling to life. The drive started in complete silence. Awkward, heavy silence.

I fiddled with the strap of my bag, staring out the window as Linden’s lights faded behind us. Thirty minutes to Northwood. This was going to be a painful one.

Maverick cleared his throat after a few miles. “So……what’s your favorite color?”

I burst out laughing, turning to stare at him. “Are you serious? You're asking me that?”

He c****d a small smile, glancing at me before focusing back on the road. “Well, I need to know things about my girlfriend, no?”

The word girlfriend made my stomach flip violently. Fake. It’s fake. Focus Taylor!

I chuckled some more, finding the innocent question somewhat adorable. “Purple. Deep purple.”

“Hmm. That's a solid choice.”

I snorted. “What’s yours? Let me guess—black, like your soul?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. f**k, what were you thinking??

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I swear.”

Maverick stared at me for a bit before bursting into laughter, a rumble that filled the space and made my chest bloom with warmth. I didn't think he was capable of laughing that way.

After he calmed down, he stole another glance at me. “Damn, you’ve got a mouth on you, Jensen. You used to be so shy to speak to me back then. This is crazy.”

I relaxed a fraction, scratching my neck. "Hahaha, real funny. What is it really?”

He finally stopped laughing. “It's gray, actually.”

“Oh. Okay. That fits.”

The conversation lulled again. I searched for something safer to say. Hmm.

Remembering the little boy from years ago, I asked softly, “Your mom…..she used to give me cookies sometimes when I would watch you play in the driveway. How is she?”

Maverick tensed instantly, and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

“She’s dead.”

The words landed like ice between us. My stomach dropped. f**k. f**k f**k.

Dead? How? When? I—

“Oh…I’m so sorry, Maverick. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” he said flatly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. But the easy mood was gone. The rest of the drive passed in thick silence again. I wanted to kick myself. Great going, Taylor. Damn it.

When we finally pulled into Northwood University, I was struck by how massive the campus was. I had only been here once as a kid for some tournament, and the memory was fuzzy. Towering buildings, pristine hockey facilities, and that unmistakable buzz of a school where hockey was king.

As the truck stopped, I turned to him, guilt eating at me for ruining the mood between us. And just when it was starting to get good. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I didn’t know.”

Maverick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.” He looked at me then, hazel eyes steady. “I mean it.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“One of my teammates, Dex, planned a guys’ movie night. A few are bringing girlfriends too, and they want to meet you officially.”

My heart rate spiked. “Do they know it’s fake?”

“No. And they don’t need to.” He cut the engine. “Let's go.”

I stepped out of the truck, feeling wildly out of place. Enemy territory. This was Northwood, home of the team that had just played us. The team Maverick played for. I wrapped my arms around myself, scanning the unfamiliar buildings.

I didn’t even notice Maverick come around until he was right beside me.

“What’s up?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

Without hesitation, he reached down and took my hand. His fingers laced through mine, and my heart skipped hard.

“Come on,” he said, tugging me gently forward.

“But the dorms—I don’t have clearance or anything,” I protested.

Maverick smirked, his rare but powerful cocky edge back in full force. “I’m the clearance.”

Oh.