Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Cooper: Where did you go?
Hunter: Stepped outside for a second. I’m not feeling it tonight.
Cooper: All work and no play makes Hunter a grump.Come back inside and chill.
Running a hand through my hair, I blow out a breath and try to stay calm. Trisha pushes all the wrong buttons, and running into her after a terrible game makes me want to punch something.I’d rather go to the gym and lift or run until I forget her name, my name, and the loss tonight. But I pop back into the bar because I can’t take off and leave the team like that. Maybe I can finish making an appearance and then disappear.
Cooper finds me when I order another drink. Setting his elbow down on the scarred wooden bar next to me, he raises a brow. “What’s up with you tonight?”
I shrug, not meeting his eyes. “It was a tough loss.”
His gaze narrows. “They all are. This feels like more than that.”
Why couldn’t I have a crappy best friend who’d let me get away with bad behavior? Instead, I have a great one who calls me on my shit. It’s the burden I bear.
Exhaling, I take a sip of my beer and stall.
He waits me out, tapping the toe of his cowboy boot on the floor. “I’m not going away.”
“Fine.” With another dramatic sigh, I roll my eyes. I’m being difficult, I can feel it, but I can’t seem to get my head on straight. Maybe talking it out will help. “Tricia found me.”
Even her name leaves a foul taste in my mouth. I take another swig of beer to wash it out.
Cooper winces. “I’m sorry, dude.”
“Me, too.”
We met in a club back home in Boston over the summer. I was lonely, missing my friends and my team, and it felt like fate to meet another Harrison student so far from Lafayette, Indiana. I grabbed onto Trisha with both hands—probably too tightly, and I threw myself into a relationship with her without asking the right questions.
Questions like, do I actually like this girl? Do we have anything in common? Does she want to be exclusive? All things I should have considered. But I didn’t think, and it blew up in my face.
Cooper’s voice is tentative. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but I thought you were pretty much done with her?”
“I’m definitely done with her.” I clench my fist on the bar. “But she’s still trying to squeeze every last cent out of our relationship.”
His eyes widen. “What happened?”
“She asked me for money. Can you believe that?”
His brows hit his hairline. “That’s pretty low. You said she was a gold-digger, but I guess I didn’t realize.”
I run my hand through my hair. “That’s because I didn’t tell you the whole story.”
Turning to face me, he spreads his hands wide. “So talk.”
When we came back to Harrison, I told Cooper that Tricia had been a summer fling and a bad idea. He pressed, but I didn’t want to admit how stupid I was, so I sidestepped his questions at the time. But now I throw back my pint glass, draining it, and slam it on the bar.
“She recognized me when we met and started chatting me up.” It wasn’t weird that she knew who I was. I’m not being cocky—Harrison is a big school, but the hockey team won the National Championship last spring. Our faces were plastered all over everything.
Cooper nods, and I continue. “I didn’t mind. She knew who my dad was, clearly was interested in my hockey resume, and that’s cool.”
I used to be here for the casual hookups. I’d give girls my most charming smile, spin a few lines, and have lots of satisfying sex. Everyone leaves happy.
But everything changed when my best friend fell in love.
Jasmine waves at Cooper from across the bar, and his features soften. He can’t help it. He’s so head-over-heels, it’s disgusting. But also, kind of amazing. Something tugs in my chest at the expression on his face.
What he has—man, it looks good. He and Jasmine make each other so damn happy. So I started thinking, maybe if being in a relationship makes Cooper happy, I should try it, too.
Hence, my big screw-up with Tricia.
I study my hands. “It would have been fine if it was a one-night thing. But I was lonely. It was nice to have a friend in Boston—” I huff a laugh. “Or what I thought was a friend. I should have cut it off, but I ignored the warning signs. It became clear she only cared about one thing, but I didn’t pay attention.”
“Sex?” Cooper asks, smirking, and I chuckle at his humor.
“Cash. She only cared about money and status.” I shake my head at how dumb I was. “She’d beg me to go shopping with her and conveniently forget her wallet when it came time to buy her designer purses and shoes. She’d have a craving, but only for the swankiest restaurants in the city. Where she’d order the most expensive entrée on the menu. I went along with it because I could afford it, and…” I trail off.
“And it’s not like you had anyone else to hang out with,” he finishes for me.
“Yeah. Then it turned into pointed questions about the NHL and why I wasn’t signing with the Blackhawks yet.”
Cooper frowns. This is a tough subject for me. Drafted at eighteen, I could have signed this summer. But I wanted one more year with the Griffins. A chance to finish my degree.
“Tricia didn’t understand any of the reasons I would stay. She kept asking if I was good enough to play pro, how much money I’d make as a hockey player, stuff like that.” I clear my throat, ashamed to admit I was such an idiot. “Our relationship wasn’t really based on conversation, so it was pretty easy for me to change the subject and pretend she was asking because she was interested in me.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “That really sucks. I’m sorry she was a jerk to you.”
“You haven’t even heard the worst part yet.”
Trisha wasn’t the first person who tried to use their connection with me to get close to my dad. Friends in middle school, former teammates. I had learned not to trust anyone. The guys at Harrison are different—my dad’s not around much and they don’t make a big deal out of who he is. And for some dumb, na?ve reason, I thought Trisha was in the same category.
Stupid, stupid me.
“After two months together, I came home from the gym one day and found her flirting with my dad.”
“Ew.” Cooper blanches, looking sick. “That’s awful.”
In that moment, the puck finally dropped, and I realized how wrong I was. I threw her out and didn’t look back. Good riddance. The rumor on campus is that she hooked her claws into Harrison’s top baseball prospect and is angling for a ring.
Her finger was bare when she showed up to talk to me tonight, though. Maybe her current guy came to his senses, and that’s why she was begging me to lend her money. I don’t know, and I don’t want to listen to her poison long enough to find out.
“Seeing her tonight, after a loss, just makes me feel dumb, you know?”
“I get that. You’re not dumb, but I understand why you could feel that way.” Then he grins at me. “That’s why you should have another beer and forget about it.”
I wish it were that simple. I frown at the crowd of people around me, dancing and laughing. How can they be so carefree?
“You’ve moved on from Tricia. And we’ll get the team figured out. No one wants to lose the first one,” Cooper says, his tone encouraging. “But we have another shot at them tomorrow.”
“I was a crappy captain. I felt off my game all night.” I shake my head, reliving every rough moment. The locker room flashes into my mind. “And then I was kind of a dick to the social media girl.”
I remember Natalie’s judgmental eyes. The way she didn’t back down after the game, and then the conversation she couldn’t stay out of in the parking lot. Why was she everywhere tonight? It was absolutely none of her business, but once again, she got in my face.
Gorgeous and feisty, I hope she doesn’t become a problem for the team. Or me.
Cooper brushes his hair off his forehead. “You’re overthinking it. You stayed with us this year to have fun, right?”
And prove that last year wasn’t a fluke. But I nod.
He puts another glass in my hand, then smiles. “Let’s start now.” He leads me over to Jasmine and a group of our friends, and I sigh. Can it be that easy?
Maybe Cooper is right. I’ll ignore Tricia and trust the team. I’ll do my best to stop being a jerk to Natalie, and then avoid her as much as possible.
Yeah. It will all be fine.