Mated To The Hockey Captains

Chapter 7- Algebra

Naeva Quinn

For three days, I stayed in my room not doing anything productive. That was not how long I’d planned to stay away from them. I wanted something longer. Honestly, I’d thought the space would help me clear my head but it didn’t. If anything, the air had gotten thicker, and it became worse. The longer I stayed away, the heavier my heart grew like the most important person was gone. So today, I made the decision to no longer hide. I was going to face them, and whatever came with it.

I dressed up casually yet nicely just to lighten my mood, ate breakfast and left .The boys were already seated when I walked in. None of them asked where I’d been. No raised eyebrows, no sly comments. Just silence.

River sat in his usual spot, posture straight, eyes unreadable as always. Theo lounged with his arms crossed, wearing that lazy half-smile that never told me what he was thinking. Jax… well, Jax was looking at me differently. Concern. It was subtle, but there. He didn’t say anything, though. None of them did.

I cleared my throat and began the lesson, letting the rhythm of teaching carry me. We were continuing Algebra—something straightforward, something I could hide behind if my nerves decided to show. Equations, variables, neat rows of numbers.

“Alright,” I said, scrawling a problem across the board. The chalk squeaked slightly, but I ignored it. “River, why don’t you come up and solve this one for us?”

His head lifted, his dark eyes meeting mine for a fraction of a second before flicking back to the board.

“The answer’s five,” he said flatly.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Five.” He didn’t even pick up his pen. Didn’t even try to think of an answer.

I felt the first flicker of irritation in my chest. “River, you can’t just give me the answer without showing your work.”

He shrugged, gaze steady. “It’s still right.”

My patience snapped a little. “Up. Now.”

There was a pause—a hesitation so small I might’ve missed it if I weren’t watching him carefully. His jaw tightened, but eventually, he stood.

I expected a mess, an attempt to prove a point by scrawling numbers without logic. But when he picked up the chalk, his hand didn’t shake. He solved the equation in a clean, precise sequence—no hesitation, no guessing. Each step lined up perfectly until the final 5 sat there, neat and certain.

I just stared for a moment, my irritation tangled with a sudden, unexpected ripple of surprise.

“You… knew how to do it,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended.

He didn’t look at me. “I told you it was five.”

“That’s not the point,” I said, though my tone lacked its earlier bite. I wasn’t sure what the point was anymore—only that I’d underestimated him, badly and I was beginning to question why I was brought to tutor them in the first place.

He set the chalk down with care, wiped his hands on his jeans, and returned to his seat without another word.

I forced myself to continue the lesson, calling on Theo next, then Jax. The lesson ended like any other. Or at least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. What a weird assurance.

I began erasing the board while the boys gathered their books, their chairs scraping softly against the floor. I told myself they were leaving. That I’d have the room to breathe in just a moment. I didn't even want to look at them, not after what had happened.

But then I heard footsteps. Steady, purposeful and Getting closer.

Before I could even turn, River’s hand closed around my wrist. Not painfully, but firmly enough that I knew I couldn’t just pull away without making it obvious. His proximity startled me, his presence suddenly overwhelming.

“Why have you been avoiding us?” His voice was low, clipped, but there was something under it, an urgency that didn’t match his usual detached tone.

I froze. “River—”

“No,” he cut me off, leaning in slightly, his grip tightening just enough to make my pulse spike. “Don’t lie. You’ve been gone for days. Three. Do you think we didn’t notice?”

“I—” I swallowed hard. My mind was scrambling for something to say, something that didn’t sound like the truth, because the truth was messy and dangerous and I wasn’t sure I was ready to hand it over.

His gaze bore into mine. “It’s too late for you to turn back now.”

I didn’t know if it was a warning or a threat. Maybe both.

Then he leaned even closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Meet me at the hockey training field. Ten o’clock. I’ll tell you the truth you’ve been looking for.”

My breath caught. The truth I’ve been looking for. The words slid under my skin like a hook.

Before I could react, before I could demand an explanation, he released me. The warmth of his grip vanished instantly, leaving the skin on my wrist tingling, my chest tight.

And then, just like that, he turned and walked out, his shoulders straight, his stride confident—like he hadn’t just dropped a live grenade into my evening.

Jax was next to move. He didn’t look at me directly, but his glance was sharp enough to tell me he’d seen something. He followed River out, his expression unreadable.

Theo lingered.

“You okay?” His voice was casual, but his eyes were scanning me in that way people do when they’re checking for damage.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly.

His gaze flicked to my wrist, then back to my face. He didn’t press, but there was something in his expression—skepticism, maybe even quiet disapproval. After a moment, he nodded once and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

And then I was alone.

The classroom felt too big now. Too quiet.

I let out a slow breath, rubbing my wrist without thinking. I could still feel the ghost of River’s fingers there, the heat of his closeness, the weight of his words.

Too late for you to turn back?

What did he mean by that? What did he think I’d already done?

I thought about not going. About locking my door at ten and pretending I’d never heard him. But something in me, a reckless, curious part I didn’t like admitting existed was already leaning toward yes. Because if there was a truth to be told, I needed it.

And if River thought I’d been looking for it… maybe I had. I gathered my books slowly, trying to quiet the whirl of thoughts in my head.