After suffering through a morning of classes, doing my best to focus and failing, I bolted off campus as soon as I was free and headed over to Ice Life to have James's skates sharpened for tonight. Could have done it at the rink during practice, but I wanted the excuse to window shop for shit while I waited.

Unfortunately, they were having some epic one-day sale I wasn't aware of and the place was completely packed. Normally, I would have bailed, but I had a few hours to kill and I wanted to check out a bunch of newly released equipment, so I decided to stay and deal with the crowds.

Plus, I was more than a little distracted thinking about seeing James later. Completing any more schoolwork or doing anything else remotely productive wasn't an option.

I navigated through the throngs of shoppers, over to the skate sharpening counter off in the rear corner. Usually you could walk right up, but today the line was at least a dozen people deep.

When I joined the lineup at the back, Morrison suddenly appeared from out of nowhere like a preppy little demon summoned from the depths of hell. Pale blue polo shirt, slicked back blond hair, and an overwhelming aura of entitlement. Because you just knew he'd been handed everything his entire life.

What were the fucking odds?

My hands balled into fists, squeezing until my knuckles turned white; I wished they were around his neck. I'd always hated the guy, but it was next-level at this point.

Pulling out my phone, I sent Dallas a quick text about the practice plan for later. Then I popped a piece of extreme mint gum, taking my hostility out on it. And I checked our fantasy hockey results to find that James was right about taking the trade and that after last night's games, I was now in second place overall while Dallas had fallen to fourth. Nice.

Despite my blatant attempt to ignore him, Morrison slithered my way, coming to hover beside me. He was wearing such an obnoxious amount of cologne, I could smell it from where I stood. His presence was irritating on every level.

He nodded at the skates in my hand. "Are those Bailey's?"

The fuck?

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a creep?"

Morrison squinted his watery blue eyes, glaring at me. Or attempting to, anyway. It seemed to be his best impression of intimidating, which was pretty weak. He didn't have enough spine to lend it any credibility.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a dick?" He countered.

I grinned. "All the time, man."

A compliment, really, considering the source.

The winding line moved forward, turning right, and positioning me in the middle with a buffer of people between us. No longer able to needle me, Morrison lost interest and wandered off.

After dropping her skates off at the counter, I browsed the store for a while, making a conscious effort to avoid him—not because I was scared of him, but because I was scared of what I might do to him.

He talked a lot of shit for someone who couldn't back it up. I should pummel him for the text message thing alone. But I knew I couldn't afford to lay him out off of the ice.

Good thing we were playing them again soon.

As I rounded a corner near the sticks and tape, I ran into Morrison again, standing there looking at the CCM display. It was like the gods wanted me to beat his ass. The fates were practically begging me to do it.

Of course, turning around and leaving the area because of him wasn't an option, so I carried on browsing the shelves like he wasn't there.

He glanced over at me, setting down the stick he was holding.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Carter." His voice oozed with syrupy smugness. "We both know you're just a rebound."

Ah, fuck it. We were tucked away in an aisle at the back. No one around to see. Probably no cameras either.

I pivoted to face him and his expression instantly shifted from cocky to apprehensive. His eyes darted around, confirming that we were very much alone. I slowly prowled in his direction, taking my sweet ass time closing the distance between us. Daring him to run away and relishing the fact that his discomfort visibly climbed with every step I took.

There were so many things I knew, so many things I wanted to say. But I didn't want to sell out James. He wasn't worth it.

Intentionally invading his space, I came to a stop a little too close for either of us to be comfortable. He stiffened and shuffled back, flinching slightly as he hit the metal shelving behind him. We stood nearly nose to nose, with me looking down on him by a couple inches.

"You're real mad that she moved on, huh?"

His jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. Of course not, now that we were alone and within swinging range.

"Got anything else to say?" I asked.

A beat passed. I raised my eyebrows. He glared at me, still saying nothing.

"Yeah," I said evenly. "That's what I thought."

My phone beeped with a text message letting me know her skates were done.

I nodded at him. "Later, fuckface."

*

After narrowly refraining from committing a felony, I channeled all of my leftover aggression into our afternoon practice and crushed it. It was a great way to forget about that asshat and head into an evening with James. My mood was sky-high. Until I had to deal with her roommate.

Amelia answered the front door, giving me a death stare. She paused, uttering a massive sigh like my very existence was a massive imposition. Right back atcha, Amelia.

"I guess I'll go get her." She flipped her hair and flounced away, leaving the door hanging wide open without inviting me in. I could see why Amelia got along with Paul so well, considering how friendly and charming they both were.

I stepped inside the entryway, taking her absence as an open invitation to do so. A minute later, Bailey came down the stairs, eyes brightening when they landed on me. Her dark blonde hair was loose around her shoulders and she looked hot as fuck in a pair of black jeans that showed off her legs, paired with a pink sweater that was just tight enough to keep drawing my eyes to her chest.

I was trying to behave but damn, it was hard... Literally, when I was around her.

Following a lengthy hello kiss and another in front of my truck for good measure, we finally made our way into the vehicle. I waited, letting the truck idle as Bailey reached over and bucked her seatbelt. Turning to look at me, she tucked her hair behind her ear and gave me an expectant look, batting her eyelashes.

"Where's my autographed picture, Carter?"

"My bad." I grinned. "I guess we'll have to hold a private photoshoot later."

Bailey reached over to my side of the truck, poking me in the bicep. "You're going to offer up things and not deliver them?"

I dropped my voice, giving her a look. "Oh, I can deliver."

Her eyes widened slightly, pink lips curving into what could only be described as a flustered smile.

It was cute as hell.

She shifted her weight, biting her bottom lip. "I guess we'll see."

"Guess so."

Hopefully tonight. I mean, I could be patient. Would be patient. But I could still hope, right?

*

Bailey told me about her birthday debacle in great detail, including the stupid stuffy French restaurant. Which, knowing her now, was obviously the opposite of something she would enjoy. That was why I intentionally kept it low-key when it came to choosing a place and picked a little Italian restaurant near campus. It had brick walls, fireplaces burning in the corners, and candles on the tables, but it wasn't fancy or upright by any measure.

"This is so cute," Bailey said as the hostess ushered us to our table.

"Yeah," I said. "Kind of has that whole homey thing going on. Great pasta, too."

After we'd ordered appetizers and entrees, she left the table to use the bathroom and I quickly checked my messages. Dallas had texted me several times to let me know Shiv was now homeless and would be staying with us for a while. I wrote him back, setting down my phone as Bailey walked up to the table.

"Hey, I have some good news."

She sank back into her seat, placing her napkin on her lap and looking at me questioningly. "What's that?"

"Shiv's place burned down," I said.

"Um." Bailey did a double-take, blinking several times. "What?!"

"Wait." I held up my hand and shook my head, because my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders around her.

There may have been some nerves on my part, though I still wasn't entirely sure why. I didn't even get nervous before games—pumped, yes, but not nervous. I could count the number of times in recent history that I'd been nervous on one hand, and they were all around James.

That's not to say it was a bad type of nervous. It was more like a massively heightened state of awareness with a dash of stupid happiness thrown in. And maybe a pinch of just plain stupidity, as evidenced by what I'd just said.

Sometimes, every shred of my game just vanished around her.

"I mean, that isn't the good part." I grimaced. "Obviously. And it didn't actually burn down. There was a kitchen fire that spread in another unit and the smoke damage to her side of the building is so extensive that she has to move out. But no one was hurt or anything."

"Phew," Bailey said, taking a sip of ice water.

"It happened this morning, I guess, so she's crashing with us for a few days. But Ward said she's been searching the rentals all day and having an impossible time finding a studio or one-bedroom."

"Yeah, I couldn't find much either. They were either really gross, or incredibly expensive." She made a face. "You wouldn't believe the going rates."

"Ward said she was thinking about trying to get a roommate because it's cheaper to split a two-bedroom. That was the good news part. I mean, you do need a place to live..." I trailed off. "Maybe it's meant to be."

While it would obviously be convenient for me to have Bailey become closer to my friends, the truth was that I really just wanted her out of her current living situation. Between Morrison showing up that one night and the messed up secret affair between Derek and her roommate, it seemed toxic as hell. It left me low-key worried about her whenever she was at home. She didn't seem happy there.

And if Morrison showed up in her living room one more time, I might not avoid that felony again.

Bailey hummed thoughtfully. "But she probably wants to live near Boyd, right? And I need to be close to Callingwood because I don't have a car."

"Maybe you could find something halfway near the train line." I shrugged. "A short commute might be worth it if you're happier."

"True."

"It's just a thought. Would you consider it?"

"I totally would," she said, looking hesitant. "But I don't know if she would. Can you like...float it by Dallas to have him float it by her?"

"You're adorable."

"What?" Bailey shrugged, her cheeks turning pink. "I don't want to make it awkward. We've only met twice. Maybe she thinks I'm some weirdo."

"I doubt that very much, James." I squeezed her hand over the table. "But I'll talk to her if you want."

*

Two hours later, we lingered over dessert, slowly finishing a slice of raspberry cheesecake and piece of tiramisu that we'd both shared. Dinner went longer than I had anticipated, probably because we were talking so much the entire time.

Bailey reached over, taking the last bite of tiramisu.

"I like that you eat," I said. It just sort of slipped out, like my internal narrative tended to. She was super tolerant of it, all things considered. Because sometimes it was random as fuck. Like right now.

"Huh?" She paused, fork hovering in mid-air.

"So many girls I know never seem to eat." I shrugged, scooping up the second-last bite of cheesecake. "Then it makes me feel bad for eating in front of them. Like, I'm a large human being. I train every day. So I need to eat a lot. And it's awkward to be the only one eating all the time, you know?"

Bailey grinned. "If you think that's impressive, you should see me breathe. I'm world class."

I laughed, then I caught myself staring at her for a beat longer than was probably normal. Couldn't help it.

"What?" She leaned closer, round eyes scanning my face in the candlelight.

"Nothing," I said. "All good."

Was this what falling for someone felt like? It was a trip.

*

Once I took care of the bill, it was time for the grand finale: skating at Northview arena. The prospect of skating and James together had me legit feeling like a kid in a candy store.

I pulled into the deserted parking lot, illuminated by pale yellow streetlamps. Grabbing a spot at the front near the doors, I eased in and killed the ignition.

"Wait." Bailey tilted her head, studying me. "We're going skating at your rink?"

"Yup."

Her hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously, suddenly widening. She let out a little gasp. "Are we breaking in?"

I unbuckled my seatbelt, reaching around for the bag with our skates.

"Is it breaking in if you have the code?"

"Well, are we allowed to be here?"

"Define allowed," I said, hoisting then black duffle onto the middle console. "I mean, it's a free country. We have the constitutional right to freedom of movement."

"Carter..." She made a little eek face.

"We're not not allowed." I shrugged. "No one's booked the ice. Plus, I'm on Coach Miller's good side these days so we should be okay."

Bailey groaned. "So, we're definitely breaking in."

She was such a rule-follower. Adorable.

"Public skate just ended. We have plausible deniability if we get caught, like maybe we were just confused and didn't know it was over." I smiled innocently.

"You get out of a lot of trouble with that smile, don't you? Probably just talk your way out of everything."

"Sure do," I said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. Her skin was so soft and she smelled so good...Bad idea, now I wanted to kiss her on the mouth and if I did that we'd probably never make it out of the truck.

I really needed to get it together.

"Come on," I said. "They don't flood the rink for another two hours."

"You're sure."

"Don't worry. I've done it dozens of times before."

She shot me a wary look, like I had taken millions of girls to go do this. In fact, I'd never liked anyone else enough to want to take them skating, but I wasn't sure she would find that reassuring either.

"Alone, James. When I need to work off energy because I'm pissed off or whatever."

"So, you commit crimes habitually," she said, fighting a smile. "Good to know."

I winked at her. "You knew who you were getting."

New Bieber 💜 I unapologetically love pop music and this actually fit, so here we are.

Nothing like Luke getting put in his place a little bit. Maybe in the future he'll get an even ruder awakening.