I figured a one-day break to sober up from intoxication via Chase wasn't the worst thing. After flying high all day yesterday, I needed to come back down to earth sometime.

Just not today, apparently.

Best laid plans and all that.

Rain pelted against the glass rooftop of the atrium as Chase and I perched at a black metal table off in the corner of the Callingwood campus food court, finishing the last of our burrito bowls. We hadn't planned to see each other today. I was supposed to be focusing on schoolwork during my break while Chase performed his usual pre-game routine after his last afternoon class. Later tonight, we would be at two different arenas for two different games.

But when one of Chase's profs called in sick at the last minute, he'd texted me to meet for lunch and all of the other stuff went right out the window. Finalizing the feature on the Callingwood Symphonic Chorus for the paper's weekend edition would have to wait, because the lure of spending time with him was way too appealing.

So much for the self-discipline I always prided myself on having.

I turned to face Chase, taking in the cute awkwardness of him trying to fit his oversized frame into the chair attached to the small metal table. His legs were far too long, forcing him to bend his knees out at an unwieldy angle.

"The world's not made for people your size, huh?"

Chase glanced down at his blue jean-clad legs, lips tugging as he looked back up at me. "Nope." He nodded at me. "That's why I like that you're tall, too. You know what it's like to tower over everyone else."

"I still feel bad that you came all the way to campus to see me when you have to turn around and go back to Boyd later."

He threw his arm along the back of my chair, fingers grazing my upper back. "What else would I do with my free Friday afternoon? Study? Alone?"

"Well, yeah." I laughed, taking the last bite of my cilantro lime rice. "That probably would be a good idea. And don't you usually have a whole pre-game nap routine?"

"Why would I want to sleep when I could hang out with you here?"

I pointed at him with my fork. "You don't even go here."

"So?" Chase shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'm still a student. Technically."

Fair enough. And least he was wearing a plain charcoal grey zip-up hoodie instead of his usual scarlet Falcons gear. The crimson bird was verboten around these parts.

"Okay, but as soon we're done eating, we have to actually study." I tried—and failed—to keep a straight face, my tone stern. "And by we, I mean you. Study. Not flirt with me from across the table."

"How about both?" He flashed me a playful smile. "You know, compromise."

Impossibly charming and impossible to refuse.

"Whatever keeps you studying and off probation."

"I'll have you know I'm pulling straight Bs this semester." He took a sip of his bottled water, giving me an innocent look that I almost bought. "I've been a perfect angel."

"You mean, replaced by an impostor?" I asked, gathering up my empty bowl, napkin and cutlery while Chase did the same.

"More like rehabilitated by your good influence."

We stood, taking our garbage and recycling over to the bins by the pillar. Turning, I steered him over to the stairwell that led to my favorite study room up on the second floor. It was cozy, with comfortable chairs and functioning heat, which was more than I could say for some of Callingwood's other study areas.

"Hmm." I hummed, pausing with my hand on the stainless steel door handle. "If I'm your good influence, does that make you my bad influence?"

"Definitely." Chase reached over, gently brushing my hair off my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine at his touch. He tucked my hair out of the way and leaned in, nuzzling my ear. "Speaking of that," he murmured. "I can't wait to get my hands on you tomorrow night."

My breath caught. I was expecting him to lean in to kiss me on the cheek, not dirty talk to me in the middle of the student commons. Then again, I should've known who I was dealing with.

"Why's that?" I asked, voice suddenly breathy.

"Because I'm going to make you come so hard you wake up your new neighbors."

A jolt ran through me and I whipped my head around to face him, eyes wide. "Oh my god. Chase. There are people everywhere."

"I know." He gave me a wolffish grin. "That's why I said it quietly."

"But now I feel..."

"Turned on?"

"In public." My eyes darted around, scanning our surroundings. The seating area behind him was filled with students eating and milling around, carrying trays of food and talking on their phones. Of course, none of them had noticed a thing. No one knew I was getting all hot and bothered. But still.

"That's the point, James. Anticipation is half the fun." He nudged me gently, opening the door and holding it for me.

I shook my head, lowering my voice. "You're such a tease."

"Of course," he said. "I love teasing you."

"I could tease you too, you know."

His gaze snared mine, warm brown eyes a mixture of amusement and desire. "Yes, please."

"Famous last words, Carter."

I would get him back someday. I just had to figure out how.

*

After spending an hour studying—or trying to while Chase took advantage of the otherwise empty room, trying to banter and play footsie with me—he walked me to my next class on the opposite side of campus.

We made our way across the quad with the wind gusting, gloomy grey sky looming overhead. At least the rain had stopped. Usually, I loved fall, but the weather today was depressing, hinting of the winter to follow.

"Guess who called me the other day?" Chase said, taking a sip of his black coffee. His other hand was laced in mine, the heat of his skin warming it against the cold.

"Who?"

"The assistant GM for Los Angeles."

"What?" My hand froze with the cup halfway to my mouth to take a sip. Turning, I lowered the cup and looked at him. "That's huge. What did he want?"

"Just to check in. How's school coming, training and nutrition, how are my coaches, talk about game tapes and some of the things scouts have noticed."

Having been drafted before he started school, Chase was in the ideal situation for a college hockey player. A spot on the team was basically his to lose.

Conversely, Derek hadn't been drafted and it was massively stressful. Derek still didn't know who, if anyone, would pick him up after graduation. He might not know until the deadline, well into next summer. And even then, it could be the NHL, AHL, or ECHL—or none of the above, which meant he would be left finding a regular job like everyone else. The last possibility scared him the most. I knew he desperately wanted to keep playing professionally after college.

"It's early in the season for them to be reaching out like that," I said. My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out what that could mean. I wasn't as familiar with the ins and outs of the signing process as I was with other aspects of hockey.

"Kind of, yeah. I think they might be trying to feel me out."

"For next year?" My heart stuttered. I wanted to say it was because I was happy for him, but it wasn't really for an altruistic reason.

"Maybe." Chase shrugged. "I'm not really sure. That or they know I'm trouble and they're keeping tabs. Could be both."

I laughed, but it died quickly. "Would you really leave school a year early? Without getting your degree?"

"Oh yeah." He nodded.

"This way." Making a left, I pulled him toward the brick social sciences building. Guess I knew why he was so unmotivated when it came to school. He had no plans to stay long enough to graduate.

"You would leave? Just like that?"

"One hundred percent."

I tried to catch my breath, suddenly finding myself winded. "That's a big decision."

"I know," he said. "But I've given it lots of thought. If it came down to it, I would jump ship for sure. I could always go back if I needed to."

"I feel like most people don't end up going back in those cases, though."

I'd be surprised if anyone did, ever. Pretty hard to take the lifestyle hit that would entail.

"Probably not," he admitted.

A million things flew through my mind, but I wasn't sure how much of my business it was to say anything, so I didn't.

"Speaking of hockey," Chase said, "I'm still leading in my fantasy hockey pool. Partly because of you." He squeezed my hand, rubbing the back of it with his rough thumb.

"That's awesome." But I knew he was trying to change the subject.

And all I could think of was what would happen to us if he left. I knew it was too early to even worry about that, but the thought of this being something temporary was gutting.

A few minutes later, we settled onto a wooden bench off to the side of the social science foyer, finishing the last of our coffees. In a twist of terrible timing, I had a lecture in less than ten minutes and now we were locked in a disagreement about tonight.

"You didn't tell me you'd be at the Bulldogs game alone." Chase frowned, shaking his head. "I don't like it."

"It'll be fine," I said, placing a hand on his muscular thigh. "Then I can finish packing after I get home and we can move all of my stuff tomorrow."

"Still don't think you should be there without someone. Morrison gives me the creeps, James. Have you seen the way he looks at you? I feel like he's going to roll up and yank you into a white cube van one day. I'm not even kidding."

Luke was lots of things—lots of really crappy things—but I didn't think he was actually dangerous in that way. He never physically hurt me. Though, you could do a lot of damage to someone without laying a finger on them.

"You're being a little dramatic," I said. "There will be people everywhere at the arena. And Derek, too."

"So?" He asked gruffly. "When was the last time Derek stood up for you?"

I gave him a withering look. "You don't think my own brother would stop someone from abducting me? Seriously."

"Who's to say he would even notice? He seems pretty self-absorbed with whatever he's got going on."

It landed like a slap. Part of me knew he had a point, even if his delivery did sting. But I didn't want to get into that right now, especially after Derek and I had made a small attempt to mend the fence. Things wasn't perfect by a long shot, but I didn't want them to go in the other direction—and if I let myself think too hard about things, they might.

"That's a little harsh, don't you think? Besides," I said, "he said he ended things with Jill."

"Cool, now he can start making up for being shitty to you."

"Damn, Carter. Tell me what you really think."

I knew it was coming from his protective streak, but sometimes he could stand to soften the blunt delivery a little.

"Remember when I said I'd always tell you the truth?" His tone was flat. "If the truth hurts, I'm not the one you should be mad at." He unzipped his charcoal grey hoodie, exposing the white tee underneath. Somehow, he was always overheating. Arguing probably didn't help that.

Drawing in a breath, I blew it out slowly, trying to calm the frustration brewing within me. "Back to the topic at hand. You're blowing this whole game thing way out of proportion."

Chase shook his head, cords in his neck tight. "I'm not. You need someone there with you. I'd legit send Ward if he didn't have to be at the game with me."

"I'll be gone before the players even get out of the dressing room."

"It's not just Morrison. What about Amelia and Jillian? What if they corner you or something and give you a hard time? Not to mention, that fucker Paul."

"I deal with Amelia and Jillian at home already, remember?" A sour taste filled my mouth. "Besides, Zara, Noelle, and Shiv are all busy."

I was borderline embarrassed I didn't have any other people to ask to come with me. I mean, I did have more friends than that at one point—until it turned out they weren't actually my friends.

"And your game is at almost the same time tonight," I added. "I guess we could hire a bodyguard. Unless you have another solution."

"I do, actually. A really easy one. Don't go."

"I'll be fine."

His jaw tensed. "What if you're not?"

I felt like pulling out my hair. Chase meant it when he said he was stubborn. I was quickly learning that meant he was impossible to argue with when he dug in his heels.

"Oh my god. It's one hockey game. In public. Why are you being so stubborn?"

"Because I'm right," he said, voice low. "He's a total fucking creep." I knew that voice. It was the "end of discussion" voice. I liked it in the bedroom—a lot—but it was frustrating as heck outside of it.

"Wait." I held up a hand, frowning. "Are you sure you aren't mad because I won't be at your game? My stuff is important too, you know."

"First of all, I'm not mad—I'm upset. There's a difference. And of course your stuff is important." His expression softened, tone following suit. "It's got nothing to do with you watching me or not. It's the fact that I'll be worried about you all night."

"Which will throw off your game."

"Which will throw off my sanity, James." He gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I care about you more than the game."

My heart did another stutter, for entirely different reasons this time.

"I care about you too. And I think it's super sweet that you're worried. But I'll be fine. Promise. I'll text you updates to prove I'm alive." I checked my watch. "Sorry, I've got to get going into class."

We came to stand, face to face, and his broad hands wrapped around my waist, warm and strong. He dipped his head and his lips met mine briefly, the tension between us evaporating. Smiling against my mouth, he let out a low chuckle as we slowly broke apart.

"I think I needed that," he said. His smile faded and a frown ghosted his face. "Call me if anything happens."

"But you'll be on the ice."

"Do it anyway, okay?"

"Okay."

He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. "See you tomorrow, baby."

*

The Bulldogs game flew by. Since they weren't playing the Falcons, I didn't feel like I had to actively root against them—at least, not as much. In the end, they won 3-2, which was good news for Derek.

I rooted against Paul, though. Enthusiastically. He didn't get any points, which I privately gloated about. Luke was still out with his knee injury, too, an additional blessing since I didn't even have to watch him on the ice.

It was just starting to get dark as I began my walk home. I was ten minutes into my twenty-minute walk, keeping a brisk pace to generate bodily warmth in the chilly evening air. Then, from out of nowhere, Luke's car pulled up beside me.

It was like Chase's cube van prediction come to life, only with a navy blue BMW coupe.

My stomach pitched as Luke slowed the car to an idle and rolled down the window, leaning his head out. "Bailey. Can we talk?"

It was like the universe giving me the biggest I-told-you-so ever.

Who saw that coming?

Thanks for reading! Vote and comment if you enjoyed the chapter.