Chapter 11
Willow Rogers
F all has hit Lakewood University–the brown leaves fall from trees, only to be crunched beneath my boots.
The breeze cools my skin as I follow the path that connects the three major buildings of campus. There are two smaller ones on the outside, while the central building is the main place students attend classes.
The first of the smaller ones is where I spend most of my time, as it is the only building with laboratories. It works in my favour as Strong Beans is perfectly positioned between my classes and the library–my next stop.
I am craving a pick-me-up. Labs are my least favourite part of the degree, mostly due to my hectic schedule as sometimes I’m doing the pre-labs at the very last minute. So, I barely have time to prepare which makes it even harder to understand the content.
Either way, I want to squeeze in a study session this afternoon before hockey training.
A gust of wind slams into me, forcing me to rush into Strong Beans. Despite, my love for cold weather, I’m not interested in getting sick. I order my coffee, before moving to the side.
I pull my phone out, checking my calendar. I need to add extra due dates for assessments before I forget. There are two weeks left in October, which sounds like a crazy thing to say. Last weekend we played our second and third hockey game of the season.
With Jayden and I agreeing that, for the sake of hockey and the team, we will try to get along. Most of the time this is avoidance or short, meaningless conversations, but I don’t care. It worked because we won both games, meaning we are three and zero for the season.
“Willow, iced vanilla matcha.”
I jump at my name being called. I smile and thank the barista, grabbing my drink from the bench.
The library is barely a five-minute walk, though I have to climb another three staircases to reach not only the library, but my preferred level. The quiet level is perfect for me, forcing me to do work and not become distracted by others.
I take a seat, unpacking all my supplies. I select my favourite playlist, placing my Airpods in each ear. After making sure my phone is on do not disturb–notifications are the second biggest distraction for me–I load my browser and get to work.
***
I finished drawing the last diagram in my notebook, stretching my cramping hand.
Maybe deciding to handwrite my notes wasn’t the best idea. Furrowing my brows, I glance over my notes. I caught up on all my work in one study session. A rarity for me.
I tap my phone screen, blanching at the time. Fuck me. It’s nearly seven, the sun replaced by a bright full moon. I throw things into my bag, not caring about the mess.
I missed hockey training. And not a couple minutes, the whole session. My heart races, chest growing heavier and heavier. I race down the stairs, running across campus to my car.
I’m going to be benched. Coach West is going to hate me. My teammates are going to hate me.
The intrusive thoughts rattle in my mind, their volume increasing until they drown out every sound. I drive to Lakewood Arena in record time, breaking speed limits with no care in the world.
The car park lights remain on, providing a rouge shot of optimism. I sprint inside, spying Coach West at the equipment shed.
“Coach, I’m so sorry I missed training. I was studying in the library and completely lost track of time,” Every word is quick and breathless as I try to justify myself.
Coach West turns, focusing on me. “You were at the library?” He asks.
I nod quickly.
“That’s fine then. I know how hard it is to balance everything, but this can be the only time it happens,” Coach warns.
A breath of relief tumbles from me and the pressure in my chest eases.
“But you will have to start off the bench this weekend,”
“I understand. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Coach smiles. “I know it won’t. Go on, get out of here.”
I thank him, leaving the rink to head back home. Thankfully, Coach West is understanding, otherwise my punishment could have been worse. I can’t believe I forgot training, that has never happened to me before.
I open the front door, going straight for my room. I can’t face my teammates right now, guilt and fear tangling inside me. I’ve let them down.
The beginning of the season is crucial, especially when we haven’t played together for long. I want my teammates to know I care about winning the Frozen Four.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jayden snaps.
Great. The one person I did not want to run into. I suck in a breath, turning on my heels.
“At the library. I’m not in the mood for your shit right now,” I grit.
I know an argument is coming. So much for all the progress we've made over the past few days.
“Not in the mood? I don’t care. Why the fuck did you miss training?”
Anger flares inside me, fists clenching at my side. “I didn’t do it on purpose. Some of us have to do well at their classes because we aren’t guaranteed a career in sport.”
Jayden’s gaze never wavers from me. “So, you can do that in your own time. Maybe try having a schedule and you won’t miss things,”
“Fuck off. This was a one-time thing, I just lost track of time.” I pause, forcing deep breaths. “And for the record, I do have a schedule, I’m just not a control freak who needs to every detail of my life planned out,”
Am I resorting to name-calling like a four-year-old? Yes, but I honestly couldn't care less.
Jayden’s body goes rigid, fury blazing in his eyes. He closes in on me, leaving little space between us. I step back, trying to remove myself from his orbit.
I wince, slamming into my wooden door. Jayden lowers his head slightly, my eyes flicking between his clenched jaw, flaring nostrils, and eyebrows scrunched.
Fuck my life. I hate noticing these stupid things, especially when Jayden’s body heat is radiating onto me.
“You’re being reckless and it could jeopardise the team. Either commit or don’t,”
I scoff at his comment. Reckless Willow. Apparently, that’s who I am to Jayden Allen.
Yet, the longer he remains this close, the more I think he is as reckless as me. Jayden doesn’t step back, either he likes the challenge or has succumb to the sparks around us.
Over the years, I’ve found there is a fine line between hate and lust, despite me trying to avoid it at all costs. The air around us changes, coming to life and I’m unable to stop my eyes from flicking to his lips.
Look away right this instance, Willow.
Our laboured breaths combine, the warmth brushing against me. The anger coursing through my veins fades into something else entirely. The one emotion that has always scared me when Jayden is involved: lust.
I don't realise our lips are about to touch, until a clash from the bottom of the stairs causes me to jump.
I jerk out of Jayden’s hold, pushing his chest to force him back, while I retreat further against the door.
His pupils are dilated, desire overtaking him and the longer I stand frozen in time, the more fear strangles me–like a noose has appeared around my throat and I’m no longer able to speak.
My mouth opens, jaw dropping. Why the fuck did I nearly kiss him?
Not wasting another second, I twist the handle and slip into my room. I slam the door in Jayden’s face and try to calm my racing heart. Bringing my hands to my face, I cover my heated cheeks and muffle my screams.
Fuck.