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

Levi

It was good to be back on the ice. The team had returned from the break with determination, ready to keep up the good streak. I was impressed no one was lagging, that no one had drunk their way through Thanksgiving and written themselves off for our next game. We had one Saturday night. Our first home game that Grace would be at since the whole kiss cam shit show. I couldn’t wait to have her in the crowd. We’d got in late last night, so I’d been able to convince her to stay at mine rather than risk waking Ava and Stella. You’d think after spending the last four days together, I’d have had enough. But not even close. I was already thinking of an excuse to message her, but unfortunately nothing exciting had happened since we arrived at the Athlete’s Centre and went our separate ways. Coach had us in groups, focussing on stickhandling and passing. Ryan had been talking about his Thanksgiving the whole time. His family had ditched their traditional plans and gone to Hawaii over the break. The thought of sun and beaches sounded fucking delightful. And the idea of getting Grace anywhere that she had an excuse to wear that bikini again was a win.

“How was your break?” I asked Tripp.

“Fine.”

His response was clipped. He’d been snappy with me all practice.

“Better than fine,” Ryan said. “Tell them the story you told me about the waitress.”

Tripp didn’t elaborate.

“What about it?” I pressed, looking to Tripp.

He shook his head, keeping his gaze on the ice. “Nothing.”

Something was up. And I wasn’t one to deal with cattiness. If he had a problem, he needed to just come out and say it.

“What’s up your ass?”

He glared at me, his lips pressed in a firm line. “I don’t think you want to talk about it here.”

I frowned. “What are you on about?”

“Just drop it, man.’

I couldn’t. It was my job to make sure there wasn’t any drama going on with the guys. Drama translated to distractions in games. I couldn’t have that. Both Ryan and Will shifted nervously, as though they didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Welcome to the club. I skated closer to Tripp.

“What can’t we talk about here?”

“Cap–”

“Out with it, O’Connor.”

Tripp dropped his stick at my skates. “The fucked up bet you made with Richardson.”

His words hit me as though I’d just been levelled on the ice. How the fuck did he know about that?

“What bet?” Ryan cautiously asked.

I shook my head in answer. There was no way we were talking about that here.

Tripp scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”

After picking up his stick, he skated off, his strides long and purposeful. I wanted to go after him, to ask him how the hell he’d heard about it. Richardson and I had made a pact. Grace never found out. Was he running his mouth now he knew his chances with Grace were non-fucking-existent? If he was, we were going to have a big fucking problem. Will placed a hand on my chest, steadying me. I hadn’t realised he’d skated over.

“Not here,” he murmured.

Easier said than done. Tripp’s admission was like a scratch I couldn’t itch. It was impossible to ignore. After practice ended, Tripp made sure to always be near guys like Morrison or Hilly, guys he knew I wouldn’t bring this up in front of. And while I was in the shower, he left. It was probably for the best. This conversation would be better had at home. In private. For the rest of the day, I numbly moved from one class to the next, doing my best to focus on my coursework. The idea this was public knowledge terrified me. It was making me anxious too. I’d text Grace at lunch, asking her to stay the night. But now it was almost four-pm, and I hadn’t heard back. Had the bet found her ears too? Was this the beginning of her ignoring me for the rest of her life? Groaning, I shoved my laptop and textbook in my backpack. I was giving up on my classes for the rest of the day. I couldn’t focus on anything. As I was buckling my seatbelt, I practically jumped out of my seat when my phone lit up.

Grace: I promised I’d have dinner with Ava and Stella tonight. I’ll stay over tomorrow instead. I miss your bed. And you too I suppose.

She’d rounded off the message with a wink and bikini Emoji. Okay, maybe I was being paranoid. I sped home, ready to have at it with Tripp. I was let down when I pulled into the driveway. His car wasn’t there. Only Will’s. Will looked up from his computer when I walked into the kitchen. He clearly read on my face that I’d been obsessing over this all day. He got straight to the point.

“I spoke to Tripp.”

“And?”

“He got home from the break a day before us. He was at a party and got talking to Summer Spritz.”

I swallowed. We were not off to a good start here.

“I guess Summer mentioned getting with you again or something, and of course Tripp stuck-up for Hughesy.”

I was nodding along. It was all I could manage. I felt sick.

“Summer said she wasn’t worried about Grace because your relationship was fake. When Tripp asked what she was on about, she told him about the bet you and Ryker made.”

“How the fuck does she know?”

And why her? Of all people?

“Summer didn’t cover that part off. You could reach out and ask, but I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Will sighed, defeated. “I think you’re going to have to tell Grace.”

I swallowed. As much as I hated to admit it, Will was right. I dragged my hand through my hair, letting out a series of expletives.

“What if she doesn’t forgive me, man?”

Will was the only person I could ask this question to. In freshman year he’d met a girl and fallen hard for her. They’d been inseparable for almost a year, and we’d all thought they would go the distance. But he’d fucked it up and it nearly broke him. At the time, I hadn’t fully understood his pain. Now I did. I knew what I had to lose. Will rounded the island and clamped his hand over my shoulder.

“Then I’ll be here for you.”