Bailey and I finished scaling the wooden staircase built into the earth and rounded a corner at the top, coming out between an opening in the trees. I felt a little winded, which cannot have been from climbing only two storeys' worth of stairs and must have been due the fact that I was around her.

Embarrassing. I was losing my chill.

"Wow." Bailey gasped. "You can see all of downtown."

She followed me to the wrought iron bench that sat at the very edge of the hillside. In front of us lay the entire city skyline, its lights twinkling in the dusky purple twilight. Skyscrapers lined the jagged horizon, some of the glass windows still lit from within. And a steady stream of cars moved back and forth over the connecting roads in a blur of red and white.

I still wasn't sure what had possessed me to take her here, somewhere I had never taken anyone else—or even told them about.

"The view from here is amazing," she breathed. Shifting her weight, she crossed her legs and my eyes fell to them. They were long, shapely, and I hadn't been able to get them out of my mind since XS.

"The view right here's pretty nice too."

Her lips curled and even in the dim light, her cheeks darkened. She glanced over and shot me a look that said she couldn't tell if I was messing around or not. Which must have meant my game had gone to shit lately, probably due to lack of practice and aforementioned absence of chill.

"How do you know about this place?" Bailey's round eyes searched my face, expression turning serious.

"Sometimes I come here for runs in the off-season. You know, to mix it up and get off the boring dreadmill." I stretched my legs out in front of me, draping an arm along the back of the bench. "Then I stop and undo all my hard work with a sugar-laden drink at the end. It's all about balance."

"Must be paying off if you guys are schooling us in the standings this much already."

"Guess so." I shrugged. "You should probably jump ship while you can. It's not too late to join our bandwagon."

"Keep dreaming." She laughed, shaking her head.

We fell quiet, looking out at the view, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was kind of nice being with someone else who didn't feel the need to fill every single second with idle chatter. After a while, we slipped back into small talk about school, hockey, and other friend-appropriate topics.

Until my internal stream of thoughts butted in before I could stop myself.

"No offense to you, but I don't get the Morrison thing," I said. "You're cool. And that dude's got about as much personality as a carton of white milk."

"Oh my god." She stopped, mid sip, and huffed out a little breath of air. "Somehow that fits perfectly."

I drained the last of my hot chocolate. "Seriously, what did you see in him? Asking for a friend." I paused. "Okay, that friend is me. I'm a nosy fuck."

I'd thought about this more than I cared to admit, trying to understand, and I still came up empty-handed. She could have had her pick of just about anyone. I couldn't reconcile why she'd give that guy the time of day, let alone date him for an extended length of time.

Was this what jealousy felt like? I didn't like it. At all.

Bailey frowned, looking over at downtown. "Honestly, I don't know. We started dating freshman year. I guess sometimes you get attached to people and it lasts longer than it should. I was young and dumb, I guess."

"Yeah, you're really getting up there now. 21, yikes." I sucked in a breath. "Talk about ancient."

"Wait." She furrowed her brow. "When's your birthday?"

"January 3rd."

As a kid, it sucked as a kid in terms of parties and presents, always overshadowed by Christmas and New Year's. But it was an awesome birthday as far as hockey was concerned, because I was always the oldest in our birth year division. Combined with being larger than average to begin with, and I was like a giant among the other kids some years in minor hockey.

"So, you're older than me," Bailey pointed out.

"Semantics," I said, waving her off.

"Well, I think you're giving me grey hairs as we speak so maybe you're right." She paused, crinkling her nose. "Besides, didn't I tell you everything about Luke when I was wasted, sharing my life story?"

"Not really."

She only touched on a few things that night. Namely, that Morrison was a cheating piece of shit who he lacked any game in bedroom, and that he didn't eat pussy, which was a fucking travesty. But I didn't want to make her feel self-conscious, so I didn't intend to get into that right now—or ever, unless it became directly relevant because we were hooking up.

I mean, I hoped it would become relevant down the line, I just couldn't gauge whether that was a possibility. Maybe I'd signed my own death warrant by friend-zoning myself.

"There is no story," she said, zipping her olive green coat up to the very top, burrowing her face into the collar. "We were dating, now we're not. The end."

I let out a low whistle. "Okay, moving on."

"Why do you get to interrogate me about my love life?" She turned to face me and tilted her head, hazel eyes pinning me with a probing look. "How come I can't ask why you're such a manwhore?"

I raised my eyebrows, meeting her gaze with a level look. "I think you just did."

Well, that didn't bode well for down the line. Plus, manwhore struck me as a little bit extreme. I did have some standards, they were just...broad. I mean, let's be real. When you're young, single, and girls throw themselves at you, why would you say no?

Though, I was in the midst of a serious drought at the moment—not necessarily by design, but because every text that popped up on my phone offering a hookup was from someone other than Bailey, which made me immediately lose interest. I had thought about trying anyway, just to see if I could get myself out of this mindfuck I was in, but I didn't really...want to.

Objectively speaking, it made zero sense because I had no real reason to think we would hook up ever, let alone any time soon. But certain body parts of mine didn't care for reason or logic, so here I was. Practically a born-again virgin.

And obviously not telling a single soul about any of this.

"Then answer the question."

I shrugged, because I didn't have a good answer and felt a little dumb for it. "Because I can?"

"Guys must be wired so differently," Bailey murmured, looking down at her red paper cup.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I could never just...do that. With someone I didn't know."

Knowing what I knew now, I was thankful we didn't sleep together that night. She would have obviously regretted it, and I didn't want to be something she regretted.

"Not to poke holes in your theory here, or make value judgements about good or bad, but lots of girls do."

"I guess so, hey?" She hummed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I guess it's just me."

"It's not like that's a bad thing," I said.

"I don't know, it's not like it's worked out for me so far either."

I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was referring to, but again, didn't want to make her feel self-conscious by bringing it up. Knowing some of the personal shit I did, while she didn't know that I knew, made for a massive fucking moral dilemma. It seemed one-sided and unfair, but I also didn't want her to think I was teasing her or being a dick.

Bailey shivered, rubbing her arms. "I should have worn a warmer coat."

"It's getting pretty chilly," I said. "We should probably head back before it gets even colder. Who knows, maybe your roommates went out or their company's gone by now."

"Dare to dream."

We stood up and headed for the staircase. It was even darker now, most of the light coming from the streetlamps lining the park. A gust of wind kicked up, blowing a pile of dead leaves on the ground in a miniature funnel.

"You know, this is a little spooky." She started to descend the stairs, with me following behind.

Speaking of nice views, I would follow her anywhere, any day.

"What, walking around a secluded forest with a guy you don't know that well?" I said. "A little."

"Good place to dump a body," she mused, scaling the stairs as she gripped the handrail. "But wouldn't it have been easier to off me after the bar?"

"I prefer a long con, myself."

"Ah, I see."

We reached the bottom of the stairs and started along the path back to the parking lot. She promptly caught her foot on a tree root that was hidden in the ground, tripping and losing her balance.

I reached over, grabbing her elbow. "I got you."

"Thanks," she said, a little breathless.

We both froze, looking at each other for a beat. Adrenaline hit me like a rush after a goal. She gazed up at me, lips slightly parted, and then I realized I was still holding onto her arm. It was like a moment in a cheesy movie where the characters would lean in and kiss, but after earlier, I wasn't going to push my luck twice in one day.

Even if I really wanted to.

Even if she did kiss me back earlier.

"So much for not being clumsy." I gently let her go.

"I'm not," she insisted.

I stole a glance at her, fighting a smile. "Maybe just clumsy around me."

"Maybe so."

*

The lights were out at her place when we reached her street. I pulled in illegally again, shifting the ignition into park. Leaning over to her side, I ducked my head to see out the passenger side window.

"Doesn't look like anyone's home."

Bailey glanced over to confirm. "Praise God."

Exhaling a sigh of relief, she turned to look at me. "Thank you for tonight. It helped a lot. I didn't even think about things once."

"Any time."

Silence fell between us again, but this time it was awkward. Super awkward. I almost felt like I should hug her, but the physical space between us made it too difficult to gauge her reaction to me getting closer. So I did nothing, like a chump.

"I guess I owe you now," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her purse.

"I'll definitely be collecting on that."

Bailey dropped her chin, giving me a stern look. "Are you being dirty again?" Her voice was low, a little husky, and it definitely made me want to be dirty.

"No," I said. "Unless you want me to be."

Her lips tipped up at the corners. "Text me, okay?"

"I will."

*

By Friday evening, Bailey and I had texted back and forth enough to fill several pages' worth of texts, but I still hadn't come up with an opening to see her again. And it was taking my head out of the game, which was fairly fucking dire given the scouts in the stands.

We were having our asses handed to us, down 0-2, so I wasn't the only one having an off day. Coach Miller finished reaming us out and stormed off, slamming the dressing room door behind him. The rest of us glanced at one another, a mix of guilt and irritation with the rest of the team. There were still six minutes left in the first intermission for us to stew and reflect on how badly we sucked.

From beside me on the bench, Dallas studied me. "What's up with you?"

"Other than my game being shit, you mean?"

"Your default setting is vaguely pissed off at the world." He gestured at me. "And right now, you're oddly mellow. Even with this game in the toilet."

"Preoccupied, I guess." I didn't dare tell him with what.

"Well, un-occupy yourself, fuckface," he said. "I can't carry this game alone. I'm trying, and it's not working."

Fair point. A lot of the guys were coasting tonight, which wasn't helping me get my head straight. But it wasn't an excuse, either. Usually I would be the one reaming everyone out.

"Plus." He lowered his voice. "Scouts, man. Get it together. What happened to the fire you had the last few games?"

"Well, two of those were against Callingwood and I fucking hate them, so..."

It helps when you genuinely wanted to cause bodily harm to a good portion of the other team, especially their captain. I didn't have nearly the same size axe to grind with New England U tonight.

"So pretend we're playing them. Get mad, bro. I need your head in this."

I nodded. That could work. I would just pretend everyone was Morrison out there and crush them accordingly.

A few minutes later, we headed back out and Dallas and I hopped onto the ice for the first shift. Palmer, one of our D-men, immediately took a stupid ass penalty for tripping. Idiot.

We headed into 5 on 4, with me located at the high slot to disrupt cross ice passes and block shots from the point. The Wolves' right winger wound up, passing to their center. Not today, bitches. I skated forward to intercept it, blocking the shot—with my fucking ankle. Searing white pain shot through my foot, radiating up my leg.

Somehow I managed to skate forward and beat the defender to the rebound, sending it over to Ward. He lined up and sank it right in the top right-hand corner. With a fist pump, he skated off to our bench.

"Nice one," I said, sitting down beside him.

"When I told you to try, I didn't mean sacrifice your sorry ass."

"It's fine," I lied. It was throbbing like a motherfucker. But we needed that goal, so it was necessary.

He shook his head because he knew it was bullshit. "Are you going to invite that chick to Ty's birthday next weekend?"

I hadn't thought that far ahead. Would Bailey even want to go? Plus, that was so far away. It would be a week and a half between seeing her.

Then the perfect opening hit me. It might involve actually doing my schoolwork but hey, desperate times and all.

Wonder what his plan is? Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks for reading!