Rule Number Five: A College Hockey Romance (Rule Breaker Series Book 1)(19)

Me: Of course. Enjoy your win. You deserve it.



Luckily, he couldn’t hear my tone through the text. Mia took one look at me and wrapped me in one of her signature warm hugs. “He canceled again, didn’t he?”

“Yup.” I popped the p, trying to add more levity than I actually felt.

“He’s an asshole. You know that, right?”

I walked through our apartment and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Our home was big enough to fit three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a sitting area but small enough to walk from one end to the other in less than twenty steps. It was built in the early 2000s, giving everything a slightly dated look that was still functional.

Mia handed me a coffee, and I greedily took a sip, letting the comforting liquid warm me from the inside. “Can we talk about anything else?”

She paused and looked me up and down for a few moments before nodding. A slow, devious smile curved her mouth. “Sooooo, how was your non-date date?”

Anthony chose that moment to come out of his room and leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, Sidney. How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date. We aren’t a thing. He’s not mine or anything like that,” I said a bit too loudly. Where the hell did that come from?

Anthony choked on a laugh, and Mia squealed.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but now I’m curious. Are you catching feelings, Sidney? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. That guy is hot.” Mia fanned herself, and I rolled my eyes.

“I had to watch some chick hit on him right in front of me like I was invisible.”

“Wait. Jax acted like you weren’t there?” Anthony’s voice was laced with anger.

“No, he didn’t seem that interested in her, but… still,” I replied, not quite meeting their eyes.

“You’re telling me he turned down a willing hot girl for your study date?” Mia smiled so wide she looked like a cat who ate the canary.

“Drop it, please. You know I don’t do hockey players.”

She laughed and cheered with her coffee mug. I headed back to my room, listening to her shout, “You’re in so much trouble, girl.”

I collapsed on my bed. Was I attracted to Jax? Sure.

The problem was I knew firsthand what happened when a player goes pro. After my mom died, my dad showed up, making promises about how I was the most important person to him and we were going to be a team from that point on. I thought he was my knight in shining armor, and we were going to live this happy life together. I was so wrong.

The first few weeks were perfect. I moved into his enormous house, which reminded me of a castle. We played cards, stayed up late eating ice cream, and watched scary movies.

I didn’t realize he had time because of the off-season, and as fall got closer, he started to pull away. His “you mean the world to me” promises didn’t last. He found me a modern-day version of a governess, packed his bags, and took off, telling me he loved me and would see me soon. I’d only seen him a few dozen times since.

I was too young to understand he was a selfish prick who went back to his career over me. Since then, I’d seen countless of his players do the same thing. I swear, at the rate they get divorced, it was a competition. Don’t even get me started on the cheating. The takeaway was, under no circumstances was it a good idea to get involved with hockey players. They were literally heartbreak walking.



When I got to class, Jax slammed into the seat beside me, rocking the entire table and nearly spilling my coffee everywhere. I snatched the cup just in time and glared at him. He missed it completely, his baseball cap pulled so low it covered his eyes. He was completely rigid in his seat; a deep scowl formed on his lips, and a muscle worked in his jaw.

“Well, good morning to you too.” My voice came out with more emotion than I wanted, but he didn’t notice.

He gruffed out, “Morning.”

I tilted my head to get a better look at him, watching as he turned away. I couldn’t help the pang of annoyance ripping through me. That was it? No sign we knew each other at all.

Jax continued to be in full-blown thundercloud mode during class. He barely said two words to me, and he’d been staring a hole into the teacher’s head since he got here. My initial thought was Jax was a complete dick, but as I watched him, I could see his jaw clenched and his hands were fisted, making white creases in his knuckles. He held himself so tensely that I worried he would crack a rib. He looked miserable. No, miserable was the wrong word. He looked stressed. Leaning over a bit, I tried to make eye contact. “You okay?”

His flat, gray eyes met mine. He must have thought it had been long enough for me to get his “don’t talk to me” hint because he faced forward again.

“Soooo, I didn’t know they let five-year-olds into college,” I said, looking directly at him, refusing to shift my gaze.

He went rigid, then took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Slowly, I could see a crack in his wall, and his lips tipped up on the side. Victory! I inwardly fist pumped. A feeling of euphoria filled me, knowing that I had put it there.

“Six, actually. I’m sad you can’t tell I’ve matured.” A hint of amusement was audible in his words.

I couldn’t help the pride I felt knowing that I did that. I lightened some of the anxiety plaguing him this morning.