What Are The Odds?: A college hockey romance. (Phil-U Book 1)

Levi.

As I stepped out of my last class for the day, my phone rang. It was the Assistant GM for the Colorado Eagles. He called often, checking in on my classes and talking through my stats.

“Levi,” he said in way of greeting. “You got a spare five minutes?”

“Of course.”

Despite being drafted, I sometimes still felt like my future was too good to be true. Like the Eagles would turn around and say whoops, we meant to pick someone else. It was a stupid thought, I knew that. I was good enough. And that wasn’t an egotistical thing. The stats and game replays showed it. But I’d be kidding if I didn’t think I was watching someone else’s life. As a kid, the only future I’d ever imagined was one that happened on the ice. I’d never had a plan B.

“I just watched the tape of your last game.”

Not a great start.

“Your team were off, but you weren’t.” He cleared his throat. “You carried yourself well. You can’t win games on your own.”

He went through the game, dissecting where the team went wrong and things I could improve on. I took his feedback on board. I respected his opinion, just like I’d always been open to feedback from coaches and mentors. I’d always worked to reach the next step. Making the NHL didn’t mean the work stopped. It just changed. Once he signed off, I called Grace. It went straight to voicemail. That made me worry. She hadn’t looked well when she left the barn earlier. Instead of walking to my car I headed to her dorm. I tried calling again once I neared her building, but no luck.

“Levi?”

I searched for the voice. Ava was ahead of me, at the top of the steps that led to the entrance. I jogged to catch up.

“Are you here for Grace?”

I nodded. “I wanted to check on her before I head home.”

“Me too. I thought I’d stop by before my next class.”

She tapped her access pass against the entrance, then held the door open for me to follow.

“She didn’t look well this morning,” Ava said, briefly glancing at me over her shoulder. “She almost fainted during our workout.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. I followed Ava through a selection of corridors before we reached their dorm. I hadn’t visited Grace’s room yet. We always hung at my place because I had more space. Not to mention the guys would have something to stay if I stopped bringing Grace around. The room was dark when we walked in. Ava flipped on a switch, which cast everything into a yellow-ish glow. A bed was in each corner of the room, each decorated with different quilts and pillows. Fairy lights were tacked onto the wall, which illuminated different prints and pictures. I couldn’t imagine sharing a room with anyone, though I knew Grace liked it. She mentioned it felt like a constant sleepover. But if that’s all she liked about the setup, I’d happily have that constant sleepover happen in my bed rather than here. Grace was fast asleep. She’d bunched the thick blankets so tightly around her body, all I could make out was her head. I pressed a hand to her forehead. It was burning hot. Grumbling, she began to stir. Her forehead etched when her sleepy eyes landed on me.

“Levi?”

Her voice was husky. Not from sleep, from sickness. Dozens of tissues were spilled across the pillow beside her.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Not good.”

“I bought you some cold and flu tablets from the chemist,” Ava said.

I arched an eyebrow. “Chemist?”

“Drug store,” she supplied. “I’ll leave them here. I love you, Grace, but I can’t get any closer. I have a big test tomorrow.”

Grace muttered a thanks before closing her eyes. I looked around the small room. There was no way Ava would be able to avoid getting sick. There was nowhere to hide in this room.

“Come stay at my house, Hughesy,” I said.

She rolled over, turning her back to me. “No. I’ll get you sick.”

“You’re guaranteeing to take Ava and Stella down with you if you stay here.”

She grumbled something. But it didn’t sound like an affirmation.

“I’ll crash on the couch. You can have my room all to yourself.”

She shook her head.

“You can have my cloud-like bed all to yourself.”

That piqued her interest. She partially sat up. I refused to tell Grace the brand of my mattress topper. If she had one of her own, I wouldn’t be able to use that to lure her anymore. Hopefully the fact I came with the bed would always be enough to get her over the line. Taking that as confirmation, Ava went to the shared wardrobe and took out a duffle bag.

“I’ll pack a bag of her things.”

She started listing off things to pack. Change of clothes. Socks. Toothbrush.

“Grace has a toothbrush at my house,” I told her.

She grinned. She seemed to like that answer. While Ava worked on packing, I focussed on getting Grace out of bed. I peeled back the blankets. It was like a sauna underneath. Despite her temperature, Grace was dressed in oversized sweats. She reluctantly sat up, letting out a heavy huff.

“Shoes?” I asked.

She sent a glare in my direction.

“I can put my own shoes on, Holloway.”

I snickered. There she was. Once Ava finished packing Grace’s things, I looped the bag over my shoulder and guided Grace outside. She squinted at the sun before pulling on her sunglasses. With the added beanie and coat, she looked like an incognito celebrity. Maybe if that celebrity was on their way to rehab.

“Want me to bring the car around?” I offered.

“I’ll be fine.”

I interlaced my hand with her clammy one and walked in the direction of the parking lot. She silently followed my lead, occasionally halting to blow her nose or clear her throat. I hated seeing her like this. We passed a group of girls sitting at a picnic bench outside of the main lecture hall.

“Hey, Levi,” one called out.

I recognised her. Not enough to know her well, but enough to know I’d slept with her. I tightened my hand around Grace’s.

“Hi,” I clipped back.

Grace stopped, forcing me to do the same. I turned to look at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe I should stay in a hotel or something.”

“No way.”

“Levi,” she exhaled, defeated. “Look at me.”

“I am.”

“Now look at you. You can’t look like that and hold my hand while I look like this.”

“Hughesy, you’re sick. So I’ll let that stupid comment pass.”

I bent down and kissed her. Long and slow.

“I don’t care if you’re in sweats. Or that you’re all snotty. Or that you currently sound like a throaty porn star.”

She snickered at that.

“You’re my girl and I’m going to look after you. Got it?”

She laced her fingers back through mine.

*

“What is this?” Tripp asked, setting his bag on the kitchen island.

“I’m making soup.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“Hughesy’s upstairs. She’s sick.”

His bottom lip pouted. “Hughesy’s sick?”

“Yeah. So stay away from her.”

I was willing to risk having to play through a head cold, but not the rest of the team. We had an important game this week. All our games this year were important. I followed the recipe down to the smallest measurements. While I could whip up a fried breakfast or carb-filled dinner without thinking, soup wasn’t my area of expertise. After scrolling through his phone, Tripp began rummaging through the fridge.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making Hughesy a smoothie. This recipe swears it’s the antidote to sickness.” He slammed the fridge closed. “Do we have any ginger?”

“Of course we don’t have fucking ginger,” I answered.

Just like we hadn’t had any of the ingredients we needed for soup. I’d driven to the supermarket and stocked up on all the goods. Including chocolate for when Grace was starting to feel better. Will didn’t let us have chocolate in the house. In fact, he vetoed almost all good snacks. I kept a stash in my dresser. I know the other guys did too. Once finished, I slowly climbed the stairs with the hot bowl of soup. I had to admit, it smelt fucking delicious. Grace was sitting up when I walked into my room. The pillows were stacked up around her, making her seem small in the huge bed. Her groggy eyes were fixed on the TV. She was watching some whack show called Kath & Kim. I guess the Australian accents were a comfort to her.

“Dinner time,” I called.

The bed dipped when I sat down. I set the bowl in her lap. Her cheeks were puffy and swollen, and her poor nose looked sore. Yet she still looked fucking adorable.

“You know, for someone who prized himself on not dating, you really have the whole boyfriend thing down pat,” she said in disbelief.

I slid so I was sitting beside her. She was kidding if she honestly thought I was going to sleep on the couch.

“And how do you know what the whole boyfriend thing should be like?”

“Because I’ve had a boyfriend before.”

It was so stupid to feel jealous of that, but I did.

I growled. “What’s the asshole’s name?”

Laughing, Grace picked up the spoon. She blew on the soup momentarily before taking her first bite. Or sip. It was basically liquid. She groaned in appreciation.

“This is really good.”

“Don’t change the subject, Hughesy.”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “His name was Luke. We dated for two years in high school. He was a footy player.”

My firm expression told her I didn’t like hearing that.

“Australian Rules Football,” she corrected. “You know, the one where you actually use your feet.”

“Why did you break up?”

She shrugged. “Because I moved here.”

“You were together up until you moved?”

She nodded. My stomach clenched.

“Do you think you’d still be together if you hadn’t left?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Luke was a good guy. He was amazing when my parents died. But I needed to get out of there after high school. Alone. He didn’t understand that.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“From time to time. We ended on good terms.”

Damn. I was hoping there’d been bad blood and a messy break up. You know, enemies and no chance of reconciling.

“Great. So I already have an enemy in Australia?”

Grace’s eyes danced as she laughed at me.

“Anyone else?” I pressed.

“Nah. Nothing serious. What about you? Any ex-girlfriends that are going to pop up when we go to Colorado?”

I shook my head. I didn’t have any exes technically. But there were past girls.

“You’re the first one,” I told her.

“I can tell. This soup sucks.”

My stomach dropped. “Really?”

She winked. “Kidding.”