Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHO’S THE ADULT HERE?
LOLA
The rink lights buzz overhead like they’re angry at the cold.
I’m tucked into the family section, third row up, wearing one of Tully’s team hoodies that swallows me whole.
It still smells like him, even though it’s been washed since I “borrowed” it.
My hands are wrapped around a paper cup of hot chocolate that’s gone lukewarm, and my eyes are on Tully.
Where they always seem to be now if he’s in the room.
Tully’s on fire tonight. He’s always fast, always precise, but lately with scouts in the stands, he’s become even more disciplined. He thrives under the pressure. I’ve never seen anything like it.
I never thought I’d be interested in hockey, and I’m not so much as I’m mesmerized by him.
His schedule is crazy, and I don’t love having a boyfriend who has the ice as a mistress, but watching him play, it’s undeniable that he’s doing what he was born to do.
And when he’s off the ice, he’s mesmerized by me, so I really can’t complain.
Every time he’s out there playing, the puck finds him. I don’t understand all the terms, but I know when he does something amazing. Like now, when he makes a goal. The crowd erupts and chants his name. I feel it in my chest, and my heart soars even more when he looks up from the ice and finds me.
Mid-celebration, arms raised and helmet tipped back slightly, his eyes lock on mine. He grins—wide, boyish, the one that’s only for me—and I laugh.
I’ve become that girl—me, the aloof girl who never planned on having a boyfriend in college. I am hopelessly in love…with a hockey player, much to my parents’ chagrin.
They’re being such snobs about Tully playing hockey, but I’m not surprised.
They’ve always thought my art was a huge waste of time too.
He keeps asking to meet my family and trying to get me to go meet his, but I keep putting it off.
I don’t want my parents to hurt him, and I like this bubble we’ve been in.
The buzzer ends the period. Players file off. Tully lingers at the bench, chatting with a coach, then glances up again. He kisses two fingers and points them at me. My cheeks heat despite the cold.
A throat clears next to me, and I look up to see Daniel. Tully told me his advisor would be here tonight, but I’d hoped maybe he wasn’t here because he’d missed the game. Maybe he’s been sitting somewhere else this whole time, but now, he sits next to me.
He’s in a navy suit, no tie, receding hair slicked back.
I think he’s somewhere in his mid-thirties.
He’s been Tully’s advisor since last summer, and Tully talks about him like he’s a wizard.
And I have to agree—he’s made a lot happen for Tully even in the short time we’ve been dating.
He cannot wait for Tully to be done with school so he can become his agent.
I’ve met him twice before, but it’s always been quick hellos in a crowd.
I shift uncomfortably, not loving the idea of talking to him without Tully around.
“Lola,” he says, his smile wide. “Enjoying the game?”
“Yeah. He’s incredible out there.”
“He is.” Daniel nods, eyes still on the ice, even though it’s empty. “He’s got everything—speed, hands, doesn’t get in his head. The kind of package that gets a player the career of his dreams.”
I smile, loving that for Tully. “He deserves it.”
Daniel turns to me then, his smile remaining steady. “He does. And he’s going to get it. But you know how this works, right? The climb? It’s brutal. Every eye will be on him. Every decision matters. One slip and the whole thing can stall.”
I nod slowly. I’ve heard Tully talk about the pressure—late nights studying tape, extra gym sessions, the diet that makes him grumpy when he’s hungry. I’ve helped him a lot with his studies, because that’s what’s been slipping.
“He’s handling it well,” I say.
“Sure. But distractions…” Daniel lets the word hang, then softens it with a chuckle.
“I’m not saying you’re one. God, no. You seem solid.
Grounded. And that’s great. It really is.
But the girls out there?” He nods toward the nearby tunnel, where a cluster of women in tight dresses and team scarves are waiting with their phones out, giggling. “Look at them.”
He glances over to make sure I’m looking, and I take a deep breath. I haven’t missed the fact that all the women are laser-focused on my boyfriend. Tully leaves, and the girls stand there, hoping he’ll come back out.
“They’re already circling,” he continues. “And this is college. Wait till he’s pro. Endorsement parties, endless road trips, the media circling him nonstop—the attention doesn’t stop. It multiplies.”
I feel a prickle of unease. “He can handle it. He’s not easily distracted.”
“Of course he’s not.” Daniel pats my knee—quick, like he’s comforting a child—and I move my leg away from him, leaving his hand in the air.
“Not now. But this life? It changes people. Or it changes the people around them. He’s going to need focus.
Clarity. No anchors pulling him back when he’s trying to launch forward. ”
My stomach twists. “I’m not an anchor. Not that kind anyway.”
“Didn’t say you were.” He smiles again, all teeth. “Just saying the view from up here looks different than it does from the ice. He’s got a rocket strapped to him, Lola. We just have to be sure nothing stands in his way that makes it misfire.”
Across the arena, Tully emerges from the tunnel.
He’s already showered and changed. His hair is damp, his hoodie is half-zipped, and his skates are slung over his shoulder.
A group of girls immediately swarms around him.
One touches his arm, laughing loudly. Another holds up her phone for a selfie.
He’s polite, flashing that easy grin, but his eyes are already searching past them and finding me.
He rolls his eyes dramatically—exaggerated, just for me—then mouths Help. I laugh despite the knot in my throat. He starts weaving through the crowd, signing a quick puck, shaking a hand, but his eyes keep finding mine as he gets closer.
“See that?” Daniel says, near my ear, and I startle. “He’s already fighting to get back to you. But when the offers start rolling in—millions, Lola. Real money. Real temptation. You think he’ll still be rolling his eyes at selfies then?”
I don’t answer. My fingers tighten around my cup until the cardboard dents. Tully reaches the railing below us. He looks up, a grin splitting his face.
“Hey, Trouble.”
“Hey there, Captain.”
He glances at Daniel. “Hey, man. Good to see you.”
“Couldn’t miss this,” Daniel says smoothly. “You killed it out there. We’ll talk offers tomorrow—big ones. But for now, we need to get out there. The scouts want face time with you.”
Tully’s eyes flick back to me, softening. “After I steal her for a minute?”
Daniel stands and smooths his jacket. “Of course. Don’t be long.”
He walks away. Tully vaults the glass in one easy motion, lands beside me, and pulls me into him. So damn hot it makes me crazy for him every time.
He kisses me hard. I swear, we could have the sex of our lives if we could just do it right here as soon as he’s done with a game. It’s already great when we get back to one of our rooms, but immediately following the game, he is raring to go.
“Mmm, you taste so fucking good,” he says against my mouth. “I want to lay you out right here and taste all of you.”
I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him again. “If only.”
When we break apart, he groans. “I don’t want to leave you.”
For a second, everything Daniel said feels small, but it’s still there.
Tully tilts my chin up. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, trying to sound convincing. “So proud of you.”
He studies me a beat longer, his eyes bright. “Thank you, Trouble. Come with me to meet the big dogs?”
I smile because he makes it easy. “I’ll let you handle them. But I can hang out in the lobby, or we can meet back at my place.”
“No, stay. I’ll try to make this quick,” he says, pointing at me. “What are we eating tonight?” He leans in and whispers, “Besides your pussy, because that is definitely on the menu.”
I laugh and fan my face. “Winner’s choice.”
“I’m thinking pancakes.” He lifts his eyebrows, and I nod. “Okay, pancakes. Definitely.”
He laces his fingers through mine, and we head for the exit. The girls clamor around him, and he’s friendly but keeps walking. Daniel lingers near the tunnel, phone to his ear, and Tully squeezes my hand before letting go and walking toward him.
I didn’t miss the scene Daniel painted for me. It’s unsettling that he was that bold with me. It makes me look at him differently, that’s for sure. I don’t know exactly what to make of the gross foreboding I feel now.
Looks like I’ll have to fight to belong in this picture.