Chapter 3
Alondra
The last place I expected to feel a spark of color in my world of gray was with Jack Schultz, of all people, but I especially didn’t think I’d find him standing in my apartment holding my blanket.
My head was throbbing, but the second I stepped in front of him to get my blanket, I couldn’t focus on anything else but the stupid, intoxicating smell of cinnamon from him. Instead of taking a nap, I ended up tossing and turning the entire time until I was certain he was gone.
I felt awful when Ellie wouldn’t stop apologizing for letting him come over because it’s her apartment, too. I was in rare form, jarred from the meeting with my father and running into Jack in his office. Usually I can be more civil than Stay or go, I don’t have it in me to care.
Since then, I’ve spent the last few days trying to grapple with the fact that Jack from the bar is the same guy as Jack Schultz, the future of professional hockey. A lot of things are making more sense about our class together, but I feel like an idiot for not piecing it together Friday night.
I should have known who Jack was before he came up to Macy and me at the bar.
I’ve kept up with the Wilder Wolves hockey team for longer than I care to admit, and I’m embarrassed to say how many of the players’ stats I know off the top of my head.
I am my father’s daughter after all, but at the same time, I pay more attention to the stats and not the pictures of the players, which, unfortunately, led to my downfall in not recognizing Jack.
Nothing he wore or said gave any indication that he was one of my dad’s players, let alone his prized player.
I’ve never forgotten how excited Dad was after coming home from his trip to Texas where he signed Jack.
He raved about the center, already predicting him as a first-round pick in the draft, and he wasn’t wrong.
Dad’s not big on compliments, but the way he talked about Jack’s skating and puck handling ability made me sick with envy.
I know for a fact if my dad finds out how I actually met Jack, I’d be the one in trouble for distracting him, not the other way around. It’s better for everyone involved if he thinks Jack only knows me because he thinks I’m his tutor.
A quick glance around the auditorium tells me that Jack isn’t here yet, or, if he is, I can’t see him. I slide into my usual seat next to my friend Keri in one of the upper rows.
“Hey,” I greet, and her short hair swishes as she snaps to look at me from her phone.
“You will never believe what my roommate did . . .” Keri trails off, her dark eyes widening as she looks behind me.
“What did Taylor do?” I ask, waiting for her to continue, but whatever is behind me has captured her full attention.
“What are you looking . . . at?” I falter at the sight of Jack in the seat next to me, his full lips curled into a knowing smile, his dimple peeking at me as he bumps my leg with his backpack.
Oh, kill me now, please.
“Hey, Alondra. Funny seeing you here,” he muses as he reclines in the seat, making himself comfortable.
I clamp my jaw shut, and turn away, putting my back to him as Keri watches the interaction with blatant curiosity.
“Um, why is Jack Schultz sitting next to you?”
“Because he doesn’t know what to do with himself when women don’t fall at his feet.” So much for being civil with him. Oops.
“You know I can hear you, right?”
Jack changing seats in the class is a big deal—whether he meant it to be or not—and I can feel the weight of everyone’s stares in our direction. This is attention I don’t want.
“Go away, Jack. Your groupies miss you, and we can continue not knowing the other exists,” I say, leaving Keri’s question unanswered.
“I need to talk to you, and if you’re going to continue being a ghost, then we’ll just have to talk now.”
“How can I be a ghost if you know where I live?” I ask, turning around to face him.
He doesn’t look like he has a care in the world right now, and while it might have been attractive at the bar, right now, it only frustrates me.
All Jack is showing me right now is he’s used to the world revolving around him, and he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.
I see someone pointing at us out of the corner of my eye, and I wish the professor would start class already.
“I was trying to respect your space, but I’ve been looking for you everywhere else trying to track you down so we can talk,” he says, his blue eyes staring intently at me.
I sigh, twisting the end of a dark curl around my finger as I find the willpower to look away.
I might want nothing to do with him, but there’s a reason his bedpost is rumored to have so many notches in it, and I bet his baby blue eyes combined with his dimples are the culprit. “There’s nothing for us to talk about.”
“What do you want to talk to her about?” Keri asks, and I look at her, giving her a silent shake of my head.
“I can think of a couple things. Off the top of my head, you never told me where you got the blanket from, and I’d like to know why you told me your name was Alex?” he asks, pulling the writing tablet down to rest his arm on it.
“Can you please go away?” I ask, avoiding his questions despite the fact his mention of my goddamn blanket makes me want to smile.
Jack shakes his head, his mouth tilting into a smirk. “Sorry, darlin’, you’re stuck with me now since Coach thinks you’re my tutor.”
“You’re tutoring him?” Keri interrupts, and I’m losing hope she’ll help me get rid of him.
“Yes,” Jack answers, but I’m quick to correct him.
“No.”
I watch in horror as Keri melts like chocolate in the warm sun on a hot summer day, and I just know he’s flashing his dimples at her. One glance in his direction proves me right—those goddamn dimples.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Jack, and Al’s my tutor, but I promise I rate her higher than she rates me,” he teases, and even though Keri has no idea what he’s getting at, I do.
“I would have rated you higher than a two if you deserved it,” I protest, grumbling under my breath as a chuckle escapes him.
“The way you’re dropping your rating makes me think you need to give me a second chance to do better,” he teases, and I roll my eyes. Of course, the one day my professor is late has to be today of all days.
“I’m Keri. Do you deserve a second chance for whatever it is she rated you poorly on?” Keri asks, engaging in his antics, and it’s tempting to pull down my own writing tablet for the sole purpose of banging my head on it.
“No, because he also has a problem with listening. Jack, I think your fan club misses you,” I say, angling my head in the direction of the girls seated where he normally is. If looks could kill, Keri and I would already be dead.
“They’ll survive,” he says, shrugging, and I’m relieved when my professor finally shows, setting her things down.
“I’m not a tutor, so if you actually need the help, find someone else,” I say, pulling my things out of my bag, but our professor starts speaking before Jack can respond.
I do my best to focus on everything Professor Rayburn says, but it’s hard to when Jack’s leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since she started.
I feel bad for being surprised that Jack takes notes, but every time she changes screens, he swears quietly under his breath, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration.
I know it’s wrong to make assumptions, but maybe I judged him too quickly. Too bad every time I start to feel bad about wanting nothing to do with him, he opens his mouth and I lose my cool.
The second our professor is done, I’m putting everything in my bag to dart around Jack, but all he has to do is stretch out, making it impossible for me to get past him unless I want to straddle his waist. To be clear, I don’t want to.
“Where do you think you’re going, Al? We haven’t had a chance to chat,” he says, smirking at my eagerness to leave.
“I didn’t think we had anything to talk about, and I have to meet Macy,” I say, frowning at him.
“Perfect, I’ll walk with you,” he says, an easy smile forming as he stands up, leaving me to follow behind.
Seriously? What could he possibly want to talk about so badly?
My only problem with using Macy as an excuse is we don’t actually have plans to meet since she’s in a lab all morning. I only said it because I thought if Jack knew I had somewhere to be, he’d leave me alone—not act as my personal escort.
“Perfect,” I say, the single word dripping with more sarcasm than I thought possible. “Bye, Keri, see you Wednesday.”
She offers me a traitorous smile and a thumbs up before I walk down the stairs with Jack following closely behind.
There’s a slight chill outside, and I’m glad I wore a sweater today.
It feels like sweaters are all my wardrobe consists of, but we’re approaching the descent into the unforgiving temperatures of winter.
If I’d been able to transfer to Texas Tech, I wouldn’t have to worry about whether my backpack can fit over all the layers I’m going to have to start wearing eventually.
Fucking Minnesota and their stupid snow.
Before Jack can say anything, some guys across the hallway call his name.
The girl with them tilts her head, watching me, and I wish I had a hoodie on to pull over my head and hide.
I mean, seriously? He’s a jock who can simultaneously skate and shoot a puck.
Not a god or anything incredibly special. He’s just . . . Jack, I guess.
I continue walking, hoping they’ll capture his attention long enough for me to ditch him. Except the sound of his heavy footsteps catching up to me tells me it didn’t work.
“Are we just going to continue wandering aimlessly, or are we actually meeting up with your friend?” he asks after another five minutes of walking silently. I have no interest in hashing this out with him.
“What makes you think I’m not meeting up with Macy?
” I ask, turning my head to look at Jack, noting the way the sun makes the lighter shades of brown in his hair stand out.
Hell, he was attractive in bar lighting, but in actual daylight, his features are much more noticeable.
I roll my eyes when his mouth tilts into a smirk, almost like he knows I’m involuntarily checking him out.
Is that even something you can do? It’s not like I’m staring at his ass.
“Why do you call me darlin’?” I blurt out before he can respond to my previous one with a witty remark.
“Does it bother you, darlin’?”
Yes, but I’m not going to admit this to him. “Doesn’t bother me, but I’m sure it’d bother my dad if he hears it.” I direct a cheeky smile his way, and his expression shifts to become guarded.
“Why didn’t you say your dad was my coach? I never would have . . .” Jack trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Solicited me so your friends didn’t make fun of you?” I scoff, adjusting my backpack on my shoulders. “Obviously, I didn’t know he was your coach.”
“Seriously?” His blue eyes scan my face, and if I were him, I’d probably be skeptical too.
It’s not like I told Jack my real name either.
“Not to sound like a jerk or anything, but I’m pretty well known around campus.
How do I know you didn’t actually know, or are you trying to get me in trouble with your dad? ”
“Why the hell would I try to get you in trouble with my dad? I’m pretty sure I’ve asked you to go away multiple times, and you’ve ignored me every time,” I point out, growing defensive because Jack is the one who approached me at the bar—not the other way around.
“I don’t know. Did we hook up last year at a party, and you’re pissed I didn’t call you?”
My jaw drops. “You didn’t seriously just say that.” Hockey star or not, he’s acting like a narcissistic dick. I think civility has gone way out the window at this point.
Jack at least looks a little embarrassed. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing this is one big coincidence.”
“You came up to me. You claimed your friends would tease you, and I wasn’t exactly sober.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Let me get this straight: I didn’t pursue you, and if I’d known you were one of my dad’s players, I wouldn’t have let you within ten feet of me,” I snap, and Jack closes his eyes, inhaling a sharp breath.
“Why didn’t you say who your dad was?” he asks, somehow still not understanding I didn’t intentionally hide it from him.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Have you taken too many hits to the head or something? Do you go up to random people in a bar who are hitting on you and tell them about your dad?”
Jack’s face changes, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I hit a sore spot. “No, I don’t,” he answers, his voice rough.
“Exactly, so why should the same be expected of me?” I ask him point-blank and Jack shifts, looking different from his cocky self in our previous encounters.
“Al, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t stop there, continuing to dig his own grave. “Can you blame me, though? You’re my coach’s daughter, which makes you extremely off-limits.”
Again, if he thinks I’m so off-limits, why is he still walking with me? The funniest part is how wrong Jack has it. If Dad finds out, my ass is the one in trouble, not his. “Just forget about it, okay? You’re not going to be the one in troubl—”
He shakes his head, interrupting me. “I really don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me by my coach because you run to daddy after I eventually hurt your feelings.”
“Oh my god, what part of this are you not getting? If he finds out, it won’t be you in trouble, it’ll be me.
So please just stop going on about how much trouble you’ll be in, and listen to what I’m saying,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as I turn to face him. Jack has nothing to worry about.
His eyebrows knit in concern, and he drags a hand through his hair, causing some of the chestnut locks to flop into his face. “What do you mean you’ll be in trouble?”
I can’t do this. It’s too much and we shouldn’t even be having this conversation since he’s so worried about being caught with me.
I back away, offering a small smile in surrender. “I really didn’t know who you were. It was just a kiss, and I’m not going to rat you out to my dad. I’ll see you around, Jack.”