The Captain’s Rule: She’s Off Limits

Chapter 4

JACE

The first rule was simple:

Don't look at Liam Reed's sister the way other guys do.

It was a boundary I’d set years ago, a line drawn in stone. Liam was my brother, my teammate, the guy who had my back on the ice when things got brutal. You don’t cross that line. You don’t even think about it.

But as I sit at my desk in our off-campus suite, staring at a playbook while the rain taps against the glass, the rule feels less like a boundary and more like a trap.

"Donovan! Coach wants the power-play edits by tomorrow morning," Liam yells from the kitchen, the sound of the blender drowning out his voice as he mixes some massive protein shake.

"I'm on it," I call back, rubbing my eyes.

The pressure this semester is unreal. The NHL draft is months away, and every single game is an audition. Coach Daniels reminds me daily that one bad hit, one scandal, or one slip in focus could ruin my draft stock. Scouts are everywhere, watching how I lead, how I practice, how I breathe. My future depends on me staying completely locked in. No distractions. No mistakes.

Then Violet arrived on campus.

And suddenly, my ironclad focus is completely shot.

I close the playbook, leaning back in my chair. I can't stop thinking about the way she looked in our hallway yesterday. She isn't the shy kid who used to trail after Liam anymore. She’s different. There’s a quiet confidence to her now, a sharper edge that makes it impossible to look away. The way she laughs when she’s trying to be annoyed, the stubborn way she argues back when I try to help her—it’s messing with my head.

I pull out my phone, staring at her contact name. Sending that text last night was reckless. I told myself it was just a courtesy, just me being a good friend to Liam by checking on his sister.

But deep down, I knew it was a lie.

An hour later, the rain shifts from a mist to a steady, cool drizzle. I head over to the student center to drop off some paperwork at the athletic department, hoping the night air will clear my brain.

The campus is quiet, the brick paths glowing under the amber streetlights. Most students have already cleared out, retreating inside to escape the weather.

As I walk out the heavy glass doors of the student center, I spot a lone figure standing under the concrete awning.

Violet.

She’s wearing a fitted black jacket, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stares out at the rain. Her dark hair is a little damp, curling slightly around her face. She looks small against the massive brick building, completely lost in her own thoughts.

My feet move before my brain can give me permission.

"Forget an umbrella?" I ask, stepping into the light of the awning.

Violet jumps slightly, her wide eyes instantly snapping to mine. A soft pink flush rises on her cheeks, and my chest tightens at the sight.

"Jace," she breathes, her voice a little breathless. "Yeah. I thought I could beat the downpour, but I got stuck waiting for a club meeting to end."

"Come on," I say, tilting my head toward the path. "I have a massive umbrella in my truck, but it's parked over by the quad. We can share."

She hesitates for a second, her lips parting, before she nods. "Okay. Thanks."

We step out into the drizzle, walking side by side. The silence between us isn't awkward, but it’s loaded. It’s thick with an energy I’ve spent years trying to suppress.

"How are classes?" I ask, genuinely wanting to know.

"Good," she says, looking up at me through her lashes. "Intense. Everyone treats me like I'm supposed to know what I'm doing, but I'm secretly terrified I'll walk into the wrong lecture hall."

I let out a low laugh. "Trust me, everyone is faking it. Even the seniors. I spent my entire freshman year completely lost."

"Somehow, I find that really hard to believe," Violet counters, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "You look like you owned this campus the second you walked onto it."

"It's called sports armor, Vi. Fake it till you make it."

She chuckles, and the sound does something dangerous to my insides. We keep walking, talking about her classes, the crazy housing rules, the tiny quirks of Maplewood. For the first time, we aren't talking through Liam. We're just talking. Really talking.

And the realization hits me like a body check to the chest: I’m not looking at a kid. I'm looking at a woman. An intelligent, gorgeous, captivating woman who completely commands my attention. The conversation feels so personal, so effortlessly comfortable.

And entirely dangerous.

"Liam told me you were talking to a Boston scout at the house," Violet says softly, her tone turning serious. "That’s... amazing, Jace. You’ve worked so hard for this."

"Thanks," I say, my throat suddenly dry. "It's a lot of pressure. Sometimes it feels like if I make one wrong move, everything falls apart."

"You won't," she says instantly, stopping on the path to look at me. Her eyes are bright, filled with a fierce, unwavering belief that catches me completely off guard. "You’re the most disciplined person I know, Jace. You’re not going to fail."

My heart hammers against my ribs, an emotional wave crashing over me. No one talks to me like that. Everyone wants something from the captain, the future NHL draft pick. But Violet just sees me.

"Violet—" I start, taking a step toward her.

Suddenly, her sneaker hits a slick patch of wet leaves on the asphalt.

"Oh!" she gasps, her balance vanishing.

Instinct takes over. I shoot my arm out, grabbing her before she can hit the ground. My hand lands firmly on her bare waist, pulling her flush against my chest.

Neither of us moves. Neither lets go.

The rain falls softly around us, but I don’t feel the cold. All I feel is the burning heat of her body against mine, the frantic, rapid beat of her heart against my chest. Her hands are resting on my shoulders, her fingers gripping the fabric of my jacket.

The moment stretches, pulling tight like a rubber band. The air changes completely, turning heavy and electric.

My gaze drops. I’m staring at her mouth. Her lips are parted, her breath coming in short, shallow puffs in the chilly air. Violet’s eyes track down to my lips too, her fingers tightening on my shoulders.

She wants it. God help me, I want it too.

For one reckless, terrifying second, the scouts don't matter. The draft doesn't matter. The team, the rules, the consequences—they all burn to ash. I begin to close the distance, tilting my head, my grip on her waist tightening as I lean down to taste her.

"Jace!"

Liam's loud, booming voice cuts through the darkness like a siren.

We both jump apart instantly, our hands dropping as if we’d been burned. My heart is practically exploding out of my chest, adrenaline spiking through my veins.

Liam jogs down the path toward us, a massive umbrella over his head, completely oblivious to the fact that he just shattered the universe.

"Hey, I saw Jace’s truck was still here and figured you guys might be caught in the rain," Liam says, grinning as he reaches us. He looks at Violet, then at me. "What are you guys doing?"

"Just... walking back," Violet says, her voice shaky and pitch-perfect fake. She won't look at me. She’s staring fixedly at the ground, her face bright red.

"Cool. Well, come under the umbrella, Vi. Let's get you back to Alder," Liam says, throwing an arm around his sister's shoulders. He looks at me. "See you at the suite, man?"

"Yeah," I choke out, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. "See you there."

I watch them walk away into the rain, Liam talking animatedly while Violet stays quiet.

I stand alone on the wet pavement, my hand still tingling from where it had rested on her skin. My mind is spinning, a dark, heavy panic settling deep in my gut.

I didn't just look at her differently.

I almost kissed her.