FIFTEEN
ISLA
“Get in, bitch,”Summer says, pointing to her car. “I’m driving.”
I yawn so hard that my vision blurs with tears before pulling the door open. It’s four thirty in the morning, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to waking up this early.
Summer’s car smells like a tropical paradise—kind of fitting, considering her name. But while it smells good in here, she is an incredibly scary driver, so I make sure to fasten my seat belt as tight as I can while she backs out of the driveway.
Turning the music up louder, she sings along, and I can’t help myself when I reach for the volume dial and turn it down.
“I don’t get how you’re so freaking chipper in the morning.” I rub my eyes. “These practices literally kill me. I mean, once I’m there, I’m fine. But when my alarm goes off? And when I have to actually ride over to the arena? It’s all I can do to keep my eyes open.”
“It’s called crack; you should try some,” she deadpans, keeping her expression as serious as a heart attack before shestarts laughing. “I’m joking, gawd. What do you think, I want to get kicked off the team?” She shakes her head. “I just like mornings. It’s when I feel like my mind is at its clearest.”
“Next, I’m going to find out you’re a serial killer or something,” I grumble, earning me another laugh.
I expect her to crank the music back up, but instead, she glances from the road to me quickly, wearing an amused smirk.
“Also, why didn’t you tell me about your dinner date after the game the other night?” She keeps her eyes fixated on the road. “We all wondered where you’d run off to. Now I find out it was with Hendrix Hunt—the hot guy you swore was your nemesis.”
My body tenses, and I prop my head against my hand with my elbow pushed up against the window.
“It just happened.” I pause, suddenly more awake as I think about what happened when my back was against his truck a few nights ago. “Wait … how did you find out?”
“Well, I should have found out from you because I thought we were besties,” she sasses. “But instead, I had to find out, like … twenty minutes ago when I was scrolling socials.”
My stomach drops, and quickly, I reach forward to grab my phone from my bag. I didn’t see anyone in the parking lot with us, but what if pictures of what we did got out?
No. You’re being paranoid. If Summer saw that type of photos, she would have said.
I quickly search socials for any tagged photos, and sure as shit … there’s a picture of me and Hendrix at dinner. I scroll down and find another, only this one is us in the hallway at the arena.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I swear, chewing my lip. “My dad is going to kill me.”
Her gaze swings to me for a split second. “Oh fuck. I forgot that you’re, like, practically royalty in the hockey world andeverything gets documented.” She thinks for a moment. “Why would your dad kill you though?”
Throwing my phone back in my bag, I sigh, looking out the window. “Because my dad is fully aware of who Hendrix Hunt is—that’s why.”
And because I don’t want to talk—or think about my dad or Hendrix anymore—I lean forward, turning up the music so loud that even if Summer does speak, I won’t be able to hear her.
I walk outof the women’s locker room and down the hall, but before I have a chance to make it out of the hallway, Cade steps out of his office. Right away, I can see the concern on his face, and I’m sure it’s because he’s either seen the pictures of me and his problem player online or because my dad has called him too.
Like he hasn’t stopped calling me for the past hour.
“Heads-up, I: your dad is, uh … well.” He stops, swallowing, “Guess he saw the pictures of you and Hunt and …” He cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s not happy. And that’s putting it lightly.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” I huff out, tipping my chin upward and trying not to pout. “Cade, we went to dinner. That was it.”Definitely didn’t do anything in the parking lot against his truck. Nope. Nothing at all.
As everyone else passes by us, I stand beside him and wait to see what he says back. Cade Huff is like family. And just like all of my dad’s other best friends, he’s protective.
“It’s not really my business, Isla,” he utters. “But I can tell you this: you need to be careful. He’s got demons, kid. And I’m not so sure you need to help him battle those while you’ve already got so much going on yourself.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly, not in an angry way, but more of a thoughtful way. “You’re the new star goalie at a D1 college. You are proving to everyone why you deserve to be here, and you’re earning your degree in nursing. Don’t let a boy fuck that up, kiddo.”
“It was one dinner, Cade.” I practically hiss the words out of pure frustration. We may have taken it too far when he dropped me off, but I didn’t even give the guy my phone number, for fuck’s sake. “Literally … one. Dinner.”
He eyes me over suspiciously before, finally, he sighs. “All right, well … you’d best go call your old man. He’s on a whole other level of mad than I’ve seen him before. And I love him—you know I do—but I don’t need him showing up here, causing a scene.”
“I know,” I whisper. “Sorry to put you in this situation, Uncle Cade.”
