Oh, fuck. He called me by my last name. “I’m going, Coach,” I grumble, heading back through the tunnel.
I make a beeline for the locker room and ram my fist into one of the metal lockers.
Again.
And again.
And again.
I collapse onto the floor, breathing heavily.
This is killing me. I know Coach has my best interests at heart but fuck I really don’t give a damn. I’ve worked so hard, he knows this, but he’s still punishing me.
I know he’s probably trying to teach me some powerful lesson here about self-control or some bullshit.
I pick myself up off the floor and go back into the gym. I know if I don’t do the five miles Coach will somehow find out—he knows everything—and I’ll only give him more ammunition against me.
I finish my run, shower, and go back to the arena so I can watch the end of the guys’ practice. Even if I can’t be on the ice,
it feels good to be close to it.
Coach shouts orders at them, being particularly rough with the freshman. They’re smaller and slower than the seasoned players. They’ll get there, though, they always do.
Coach notices me but doesn’t acknowledge my presence. I half expect him to yell at me to go run again or something, but he doesn’t.
After another twenty or so minutes, he calls it a day and the guys head off the ice to shower.
Coach looks up at me from the bench and says one word. “Soon.”
One month at school and I haven’t died yet, so I guess that’s good.
College is hard, though. So much harder than I expected. Books, TV, and movies make it out to be all fun and games, parties every night and no homework. Oh, boy, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
I barely get to see Elle or Ryland since I’m always cooped up in my room doing homework or pretending to be Bennett’s girlfriend. It surprisingly hasn’t been that bad. Bennett gets brownie points for being the best fake boyfriend ever. He makes sure I always have coffee and something to eat since he knows I forget when I’m busy studying. I don’t much enjoy the times when we have to go out and put on a show for the world—Bennett makes sure to be extra gropey then and I know it’s more to mess with me than to actually put on a show for the media—but I endure it because I know it’s what I agreed to in the first place.
A knock sounds on the door, and I go to open it. Bennett grins.
“How fares the young maiden? I bring thee sustenance.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” I close the door behind me and he sits on my bed while I sit back down at my desk. Taking the to-go bag from him, I look inside.
“Turkey club with avocado and chips,” he tells me before I can figure it out on my own.
I pull it out and spread the items on the little space I have on my desk.
He looks around. “Where’s Elle?”
“No clue,” I say. “She said she was going to study in the library, but I have a hard time picturing her actually doing that.”
“So she’ll be gone a while?” he asks.
I open the chip bag and pop one in my mouth. “Most likely.”
He kicks off his shoes and lies back on my bed, making himself at home. “Should I put a sock on the door then?” He grins, wagging his brows.
“What?” I ask, and then a moment later it dawns on me. “Ugh! God! You’re such a guy!” I throw a chip at him. It lands on his chest and he picks it up, shrugs, and eats it.
“You’re so easy to rile up.” He grins. “It amuses me.”