Forced To Room With My Hockey Rival

NINE

George's POV

If someone had asked me a few months ago whether a girl could distract me from hockey, I would have laughed at the idea. My life had always been straightforward. With training, games, classes, and the endless responsibilities that came with being captain of the university team. Everything else existed somewhere in the background, including the girls who constantly hovered around me on campus. People liked to talk about that part of my reputation. According to most of the rumors floating around the university, I was a playboy. I never bothered correcting them.

From the outside, the label made sense. I was usually surrounded by girls, especially after games or during campus events. Cheerleaders, fans, classmates, even girls from other departments who had never seen a hockey game in their lives somehow found excuses to show up around me.

On the surface, I played along easily enough, smiling, chatting, accepting the occasional drink during celebrations. But the truth was far less interesting than the rumors. I didn’t really care about any of them. Not in the way people assumed. Most of the time I couldn’t even remember their names. When someone greeted me enthusiastically on campus, I often had to rely on vague smiles and neutral responses because I had absolutely no idea who they were.

“George! You remember me, right?”

“Of course,” I would reply with an easy grin. The answer satisfied them almost every time. But in reality, their faces blurred together after a while. There was never any real connection. Just polite interactions that meant nothing the moment they ended.

Then Moxie moved into the house. And everything started changing in ways I didn’t expect. At first, my interest in her came from simple respect. Watching her play during the state championship years ago left a strong impression on me. She had been reckless and stubborn on the ice, but there was something admirable about the way she refused to back down. That kind of determination was rare.

When I discovered the truth about her situation with Dustin, the respect deepened into something more complicated. Seeing her bruised and exhausted that night stirred a protective instinct I hadn’t anticipated. But even then, my feelings still felt logical.

That changed the day she accidentally walked into my room. I still remembered the moment clearly. The door opened unexpectedly while I was halfway through changing after a workout. I turned around just in time to see her freeze near the doorway, her eyes widening in shock as she realized exactly what she had interrupted. For a second neither of us moved. Then her face turned bright red.

“Oh my god!” She spun around so quickly that she nearly tripped over the doorframe. “I’m so sorry!”

Her voice sounded completely panicked. The reaction caught me off guard. “It’s fine,” I told her while reaching for the shirt lying on the bed. Moxie refused to meet my eyes as she hurried out of the room, muttering another apology on her way into the hallway. I stood there for several seconds after she left. Something unfamiliar stirred in my chest. My heart was beating faster than usual. That was the moment I realized she was different. After that day, I started noticing things about her more often. .

Without really planning it, I found myself paying attention whenever she entered a room. Sometimes I even created excuses to start small conversations.

“How’s the job search going?” I asked on a random day. She looked up from a magazine she was reading and gave me this heart stopping smile.

"Quite stressful" She replied. Compared to how she was when she first arrived, she had grown more relaxed around me and I was happy about that.

“Did the agency call back yet?” I asked but she shook her head.

"Not yet but hopefully they will soon" She replied and I nodded, biting into my apple.

"Goodluck" I forced myself to tear my eyes away from her face and walk away.

"Thanks" She mumbles back. Slowly, I started to realize that. I liked being around her.

This was a shocking revelation to me. I had never been interested in any girl enough to notice little things about her or her presence. But something about Moxie was compelling. It drew me to her like a moth drawn to a flame. Maybe it was the fact that she never tried to impress me. She didn’t flirt, didn’t laugh at every joke, didn’t act overly interested in anything I said. If anything, she still seemed slightly wary of me. Oddly enough, that made me want to get closer even more.

The day of the city competition arrived during one of the busiest weeks of the semester. Our team had been training relentlessly for months, and the final match attracted a huge crowd. The arena was packed with students, fans, and faculty members. When the final whistle blew and the scoreboard confirmed our victory, the celebration exploded across the ice. Teammates shouted and hugged each other and the crowd roared.

Someone shoved a championship flag into my hands while cameras flashed from every direction.

“Captain!” one of the forwards yelled while clapping my shoulder. “You carried us tonight!”

“That last play was insane,” another teammate added. “I thought their defense had you completely boxed in.”

“They almost did.”

“But you broke through anyway.”

“It was a team effort.” I laughed and said to them,

“You’re too humble.”

After the award ceremony, the entire team gathered at a nearby bar to celebrate. One of the cheerleaders approached with a bright smile and a tray full of glasses. She was the captain of the cheerleading squad and had been following our team closely all season.

“Congratulations, captain.” She gave a smile that was charming enough to captivate any man but not me.

“Thank you.” I said politely.

“You deserve a drink.” She handed me a glass before sliding into the seat beside me. “You were incredible tonight.” She added.

“I appreciate the support.” I only simply nodded.

Her hand rested lightly on my arm. “We should celebrate properly later.” She purred in my ear.

Before I could respond, one of my teammates leaned across the table. “Careful, George. She’s been planning that invitation all season.” He joked and the table erupted in laughter. I took a sip from the glass she handed me. At first everything felt normal but after a few minutes, I began to feel dizzy.

“Are you alright?” the cheer captain asked while leaning closer.

“Just tired.” I replied.

“You’ve barely touched your drink.”

“I know.” I mumbled. Something wasn’t right. “I think I’m heading home,” I announced while standing up.

My teammates looked surprised. “Already?”

“Come on, captain. The night is just getting started.”

“I need sleep.” I said. The cheer captain reached for my arm. “Let me walk you outside.” She offered.

“I’m fine.” I turned her down and pulled away gently.

I walked outside and was hit by the cold air. Something about that drink bothered me. Instead of questioning it further, I got into my car and drove home. The house was quiet when I stepped inside. I walked down the hallway toward my room. When I pushed the door open, I stopped immediately. Someone was lying in my bed. At first I thought my vision was playing tricks on me. Then the dim light revealed a familiar figure sprawled across the blankets. My eyes widened when I saw who was in my bed.