Treacherous (Lakewood University #2)

Chapter 1

Willow Rogers

M y knuckles hit the wooden door, the echoing a death rattle in my ears.

Lakewood’s Hockey House is bigger in person–the double-storey house has a blue facade and an endless number of windows. I noted a balcony on the second level when I approached the foreboding house, which is interesting to say the least.

Lakewood University must have provided hefty funding to the hockey team because my previous college didn’t have a house this massive. I suck in a breath, forcing Nevada from my mind. Describing the past two years as utter hell could somehow be an understatement.

I was eight years old when I started playing hockey, and for the following years, it was fun. I loved the sport and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But at fourteen, I was served a harsh reminder of my place– women don’t belong in sports.

After an idiotic teenage boy uttered those words, I clung to them, seeing them as a challenge.

I'd watch NHL games at night, snuggled under my blanket, because I was supposed to be asleep.

In the future, I craved my skills would do the talking and I'd be an athlete at the top of her game, inspiring young girls to chase their dreams.

This goal was my fuel source; it defined who I was as a person. That all changed when I arrived at the University of Nevada. My love for hockey was drained from my body–the process a slow death, with a teammate serving the final blow.

I swallow, ignoring my churning stomach. So, I bolted. Jazmine–my best friend, who also attends Lakewood University–continues to tell me this is a trauma response.

I shouldn’t ignore her opinion, seeming as she is studying to be a sports psychologist, but I don’t know if I will ever be ready to face the fears that have found a home inside my heart.

All I want to focus on for my senior year is hockey and, subsequently, the Frozen Four.

I bang my knuckles against the door again, frustration building in my throat. Finally, someone answers. The boy has chaotic, brown hair, and his muscles are poking out from his tight white shirt. I recognise him but can’t place a name.

The guys offer a small smile, dimples forming. “Sorry, Aiden isn’t here if you’re one of his girls.”

I narrow my eyes, scoffing at his insinuation. “I don’t know who the fuck that is, but you can take your insinuation and shove it up your ass. I’m no one’s girl,”

The guy blushes, his pale skin making it obvious. He clears his throat. “Apologies. How can I help you?”

“I’m moving in today.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You’re moving in?”

Surely the team was briefed about my arrival. These days, it is unusual for women to play in the men’s division; however, I couldn’t afford to go to a college that has a women’s hockey team.

It is frustrating that most colleges aren’t investing in women’s sports like they do with men’s, but I suppose that is how it has always been.

I sigh. “I’m your new teammate, Wil–”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

I inhale, a smirk curving on my lips. The low voice is immediately recognisable, sending sparks up my spine. Jayden Allen–my best friend’s brother and the man who has been a thorn in my side for the past seven years.

The guy in the doorway side steps, my eyes running over Jayden’s figure. His beard has grown out since the last time I saw him–last year during my visit to Jaz–as has his hair.

Jayden’s fists are clenched, the veins in his arm bulge and I hate that they grab my attention. Add in the tattoo sleeve on his right arm and it would be a lie to say Jayden isn’t attractive.

Fortunately for me, I have seen all the unattractive qualities he possesses, including his control freak tendencies and an unchecked ego. Jayden looms over me but I don’t back off, staring into his eyes.

“Oh, you two know each other?”

I jump, forgetting the other guy was even there. Jayden ignores his teammate, clearly wanting answers for himself.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he grits. “Why are you here?”

“You’re looking at your new teammate and roommate.”

Jayden’s face flushes, red rushing from his cheeks and down his neck, while his jaw clenches. I smile at the sight.

One of my favourite pastimes is driving Jayden insane, even though Jaz tells me it’s a bad idea. To be honest, I agree with her, but I just can’t help it.

Jayden steps forward, grabbing a set of car keys that are sitting on floating shelves in the entrance of the house. He brushes past me, knocking my shoulder slightly. I roll my eyes at his pettiness, but really, I love that I’m already getting under his skin.

I turn, brows pulling together as Jayden strides towards his car. “Where are you going?”

“To see my sister,” He pauses. “You can’t move in yet; your room isn’t ready.”

The other guy–who’s name I still don’t know– opens his mouth, however, one borderline psychotic glare from Jayden causes him to snap his lips shut.

Weird. I don’t think about it any longer, turning away from the grump.

I place my hand out for the guy to shake. “I’m Willow Rogers.”

He smiles. “Sam Morris. Sorry about Jay, I would say he is never like that but he does tend to be a grump every now and then,”

I laugh. “Trust me, I’m confident I bring out the worst in him. All fun and games, really.”

Sam’s eyes bulge. “Oh,”

I raise my eyebrows, questioning his reaction.

“You’re that Willow Rogers. As in, the number one goal scorer last season. I’m impressed.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” I mutter.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Sam asks, genuine surprise written on his face.

My eyes widened. “Most of the time, guys mean it in a passive-aggressive way. As if they can’t believe a woman can play a male-dominated sport and be good at it,”

Sam rolls his eyes, while his nose crinkles. “That’s a stupid opinion. I grew up in a household with sisters and a working mum, so although I might not truly understand what women must endure, I can call out misogyny when I hear it.”

My lips curve upwards. “Thank you.”

I look back to my car, with all my belongings stuffed in old cardboard boxes, barely able to be held together by packing tape. I didn’t realise how much stuff I had until it had to be squeezed into my small vehicle.

I sigh. Surely, Jayden had a room prepared for me, even if he didn’t know it was me who was moving in.

“Are you sure I can’t start unloading my boxes? I have a lot of stuff.”

Sam’s hand moves to the back of his neck, eyes travelling to the floor. “I wouldn’t. But that could be me being scared of Jayden,”

Sure, the guy is grumpy and a control freak, but I wouldn’t describe Jayden as scary. Or is that just me? It’s probably both.

“Why the hell are you scared of him?” I ask.

Morris’s cheeks heat, the red flush running down his neck. He fiddles with his fingers, cracking each knuckle. His words are barely a mumble as they leave his mouth.

“I may have slept with his sister in sophomore year. But hey, in my defence I didn’t realise who she was. Jaz only told me her first name. It didn’t end well the next morning,”

“Holy shit. Please tell me they ran into each other?”

My best friend conveniently left this part out for the story when she told me two years ago. When I told her she needed to get out more, fucking her brother’s teammate isn’t what I had in mind.

I suppose it doesn’t matter now. She is so in love with her boyfriend, Theodore Knight, it is sickening.

Sam continues: “Yeah, they did. And it left me with a bruised cheek for a week,”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Jaz gave me a glowing review.” I say, hoping it will make him turn redder. It does.

“You know Jaz?”

“She’s been my best friend since we were five.”

“Oh, cool.” Sam’s eyes flick to my car and back. “Maybe we can move your things into the entryway, close to the stairs, so everything is inside and easy to move later on,”

I would prefer him to point me to my room, but this will have to do. “Sure,”

I open the trunk, pointing out which boxes are delicate and need to be handled with care. There are only two of these, but both are vital.

One box includes all my jewellery, the other my collection of vibrators. They will be necessities for this year as I plan to abstain from sex. Men are distractions and if my track record is anything to go by, I seem to choose men who are covered in red flags.

By the time Sam and I moved five boxes inside, only an hour had passed. Curse these heavy fucking boxes. I grip the cupboard box harder, lowering it to the floor.

A groan escapes me when I am back at my car. Nine boxes remain, taunting me from their spot in my trunk. I grunt, carrying what must be the heaviest thing I’ve carried since I started.

“Hey, let me take that for you.” A guy says before I reach the front door.

Usually, I would tell him to fuck off and I could carry my own stuff, but I force myself to swallow my pride.

“Thank you,” I say, dropping the box into his arms.

“I’m Cooper by the way,” he says, a blinding smile on his face.

“Willow,”

Cooper’s eyes widened. “As in Willow Rogers?”

I nod.

“No way. Are you on the team?”

His tone is excited and…pleased. I’ve never had that experience before. My heart swells, hope consuming my chest. Maybe this team is what I need after years of traumatic experiences.

I always thought I fucked over the universe and it served me with bad karma for years. God, I pray my luck is turning, I don’t know how much more shit I can take.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, I am. Just transferred from the University of Nevada,”

The smile never leaves Cooper’s face even as he carried one of my heaviest boxes. He places it with all my other things and turns back to me.

“We are so winning the Frozen Four this year,”

I laugh. “That’s the plan. I’d like to go out a winner,”

Cooper’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you not playing after this year?”

Oh, this sweet naive boy is going to be my new best friend, I can already tell.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll remain in the sport but instead of on the ice, I’ll be on the sidelines. I study nutrition and dietetics, so the plan is to work for an NHL team.”

I keep my voice steady, hiding the misery that consumes me every time the future is on my mind.

Losing my love for hockey is the worst thing that has happened to me, but I try to mask it and my pain with confidence, hoping no one will notice the cracks in my facade.

Cooper scoffs. “But you’re an amazing player,”

A soft smile pulls on my lips, as I mutter. “Sometimes that isn’t enough when you’re a woman.”

Cooper tries to talk but is cut off by loud voices. Three other guys enter the house, my boxes in their hands. I chuckle. Sam must have put them to work, which I’m not mad about.

“Who is the guy and why do they have so many fucking boxes?” One of them says.

“That’s because she isn’t a guy,” I say.

The three heads snap towards me, surprise written across every crevice of their face. I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. I let my gaze fall down their bodies. Most of them look like a typical hockey player: tall, muscular and conventionally attractive.

Is there some unspoken rule about athletes being hot?

My eyes lock onto the guy in the middle, a smirk forms on his lips. Add in his olive toned skin, piercing green eyes and his tawny hair pulled into a man bun–I’d bet money he is the fuck boy of the team.

“I’m Aiden—”

Called it.

“––And this is Hayes and Conner.” Aiden says, pointing to each of the boys.

“I’m—”

“Willow Rogers. We know,”

I tilt my head to the side, puzzled at their knowledge of who I am. Obviously, we have played against each other, but I didn’t think they would take that much notice.

“Seems like I’m famous around here?” I joke, yet I’m intrigued.

All the guys share a look. I narrow my eyes, annoyed that I’m clearly missing something. “Anyone want to tell me why you are all acting weird?” I tap my foot against the floor, impatience snatching at me.

Hayes’ reply is slow and cautious. “We hear about you all the time,” He glances around the room as if he was looking for someone.

Aiden takes over from Hayes, his words blunt. “Basically, Jayden always has something to complain about, and the rookie is obsessed with you,”

Rookie? Who is that?

“I’m not obsessed with Willow,” Cooper quickly replies.

Right. That makes a lot of sense. Cooper does seem younger than everyone else in the room. Plus, I don’t recall playing against him last year. He must be a freshman or a sophomore. I can’t help but grin.

“She is just a really good player,” Cooper says, turning his head up with confidence. “I’m sure I can learn a lot more from her than you guys. Plus, I already know Willow would be a better teacher,”

A laugh falls from my mouth, while I shake my head. This kid. Warmth creeps into my chest, settling like it belongs there.

I’ve been at Lakewood for barely two hours and I feel more accepted than I ever have. Usually, I don’t like to rely on optimism yet, I’m really hoping it stays.

Sam enters the house, placing a box with the rest. He sighs, rolling his shoulders back. “That’s the last one, Willow.”

“Oh, thank you.” I glance up the stairs and back to the boys. “So, how big is this house?”

“It’s massive. We are super lucky to have this place, one because it’s great for extra team bonding and two, it’s the best place to host a party.” Aiden says.

I laugh, nodding in agreement.

“Come with me,” Sam begins. “I’ll give you a tour of the bottom floor while we wait for Jayden.”

The other boys disappear, while Sam and Cooper guide me further into the house.

Everything is open, with the entrance leading to a hallway with many doors on the right-hand side. Sam informs me that there is two bedrooms and a laundry on that side, while a left turn leads to the lounge, dining and kitchen.

Although a wall separates the kitchen and dining areas, there is a massive entryway between each room.

The three of us end up in the lounge room, sinking into the comfy couches. The boys point out that the main bathroom is through the door at the end of the room before continuing to the conversation as if we have been friends for years.

A smile lingers on my lips–it’s strange and unfamiliar, but I like it. Lakewood University could become the best thing that has happened to me.