Standing before me is the Grand Folks State's once crowned captain of our championship hockey team turned... well I don't know. He's no longer hailed as the star player, not after possibly ending his college hockey career in the way every athlete dreads...

The good old ACL tear.

That doesn't stop the guy from strutting around and staking his claim as king of campus. He's arrogant, cocky, and disgusting. I know this because he had been in one of my classes last year. Bio, if I remember correctly, and at the beginning of each class, he'd have his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend on his lap shoving her tongue down his throat making the rest of us incredibly uncomfortable. After his injury, he practically vanished, but he's obviously back now.

Great.

Note my sarcasm.

I jump out of his hold fast as if his touch literally singes my clothes and burns my skin. He cocks a bold brow with his hair hidden under a beanie. I look to see one other member of the hockey team with him.

I know nothing about hockey, nor do I watch it, but here at GFS, it's a massive deal. Our team is among the best and you can't go anywhere around campus without hearing about it or their ex-captain, who had led them to two back-to-back national victories against UND and Cornell.

When my attention goes back to said ex-captain, I try to inconspicuously assess him as his gaze turns to the frat house.

He's huge compared to my tiny frame, actually, he's just straight-up massive. He has a mouthwatering body that's the definition of well-cut from his chiseled jaw, swelled chest, to his jeans that ride low on his narrowed hips.

His worn leather jacket hugs him in a loose yet clingy way and the sleeves are pushed up exposing strong forearms, showcasing his tattooed sleeves. My eyes follow them until they reach his hands, one with a tattoo on it, the other bare.

When his gaze moves back to me a shiver runs down my spine. A dark brow is cocked mockingly, and his full lips are set in a sullen frown that's surrounded by a five o'clock shadow.

"I figured," he states.

I tense, not remembering what I had said because...

Oh my gosh, his voice is sexy!

Deep.

Rumbly.

Yummy.

Okay, now I'm rhyming. There's a song to be found here!

My mind is racing as I try to think of something to say.

Anything!

Please!

"A pleasure, my Lord."

NOT THAT!!!

Then I do another mortifying thing.

I curtsy... Again!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

I'm frozen mid curtsy staring at the ground refusing to make eye contact with him or the otherworldly being next to him. I believe the guy's name is Beau. He's blonde with big piercing baby blues and a smile that could destroy a woman's soul.

He pats Tariq on the shoulder. "Uh, yeah, so I'll go in and grab the rookie. Probably best for you to stay out here."

"Try to be inconspicuous," Tariq says.

The possible Beau salutes him and ventures into the house but Tariq doesn't notice because his steady, intimidating gaze is set on me.

Finally, my brain gears start to turn, and I snap back up. "Sorry."

His lips twitch. "For what? Bulldozing into me and knocking my bad knee or for your singing and weird curtsy?"

My face heats up. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt it? Please tell me it's okay."

"I just insulted you and you're worried about my knee. Babe, you're the size of a feather. You didn't hurt me."

My hand goes to my crazily beating chest causing my bag to hit my stomach. "Good."

My shoulders sag with relief because first I didn't need that on my conscience and second, I'm pretty sure everybody on this campus would go on a witch hunt for me. Especially since everyone is waiting on bated breath for him to make a comeback on the ice.

Neither of us says anything and I stand awkwardly not knowing what to do as he looks at me. "Your voice is like hearing a bird screech."

I gasp in horror.

Butterflies gone.

"Excuse me!" I practically shout. "You shut your beautiful handsome face. There is no way I mimic birds because my voice is too low to even try. I'm an alto thank you very much. If anything, I sound like a frog."

Did I seriously just correct his insult?

His blinding teeth flash in an instant and I get a full-on panty-dropping smile. "Beautiful and handsome huh? What's your name?"

"I wasn't given one," I slap back, giving myself a mental high five.

His eyes do a sweep of me taking their precious time strolling down my tiny figure and back up. "You're weird but fun."

My face squishes. "Is that an insult or compliment?"

"Got 'im." Possible Beau reappears with what looks to be a very heavily plastered hockey player. Tariq's face falls and he turns away from me.

"Thanks, Beau." At Tariq's words, I fist pump the air making my bags swish along with my arm in celebration of being right. Luckily, none of the three notice.

"How bad?" Tariq asks with his attention solely on the kid who couldn't be more than nineteen.

Beau's baby blues narrow into slits. "Bad. They purposely got him plastered."

Time to go.

"Well, if it isn't my good friend Tariq. How have you been buddy?" I jump not realizing the frat president, aka Colin Reimveld, is strolling right over to us with two other beefy Alpha Tau Sigma guys.

The guy is the definition of preppy with that I'm going to be a future lawyer someday vibe. He's cute though with nicely styled hair and pretty grey eyes.

"How's sobriety treating ya?"

Yep, definitely, time to go.

This is getting oddly personal.

I take a step but Beau flinging his body in my way halts me as he yanks Colin by the collar. "Say one more word man, I dare ya. My fists have been dying to take a swing at you."

My teacher mode kicks in at full gear. "Woah, now, let's not get violent here."

"I'm sorry and you are?" Colin asks eyeing me with disinterest while plucking Beau's fingers off him like each one's a piece of lint. There's a weird gleam to his smile as he looks at Tariq. "She yours?"

Tariq actually laughs... LAUGHS!

"No offense to Blue here, but she's not exactly my type. She bumped into me while on some weird singing spree, so leave her alone, Colin."

My face deadpans and burns in embarrassment at being flat-out rejected. "How is that not offensive?"

Colin immediately loses interest in me. "Hey, how am I supposed to know your tastes have changed. Why wouldn't they seeing as how you used to be a fun, life-of-the-party kind of guy and now are a washed-up college hockey star. She may be the only lay you can get now."

Dear Lord college guys are real pieces of work!

Beau's face is enraged. Tariq on the other hand is simply grinning like a devil. He puts his hand on Beau's shoulder and blocks me from Colin's view.

"How's Sabrina?"

Colin's face goes beat red in an instant with pure raw anger. And here I am wondering how the heck I got in the middle of this?

Run for the hills girl!

Now!

"You lay a hand on my girl, Tariq?" Colin takes a step as do his buddies.

"Don't worry she left very pleased." That's when an all-out war happens right before my eyes. The poor drunk kid is pushed to the side by the house window as I watch a bunch of beefy men throw down.

Without thinking I run over to the kid who upchucks right into the bushes. I rub his back as he empties his stomach. "Hey, you okay?"

He's sweating profusely and his breathing becomes slow as he looks around confused. "Guys I think he needs to get to a hospital!"

I turn to the ruckus, but no one looks my way.

"Guys?!" I raise my voice but still nothing.

Something in me snaps.

"Alright, that's enough!" I yell in my most strict authoritative voice making all eyes turn to me. "I don't know what's going on, but this poor kid needs to get to a hospital now! As a future teacher and hopefully, someday principal, I cannot idly stand by and—"

I swear stars glimmer right in front of my eyes.

So pretty...

Wait a second?

Those aren't stars!

Something smashes right into the side of my face by my eye. I drop my groceries and fall backward right on my butt, landing on a bag. My heart thunders hard and fast against my chest. No scream comes out of my mouth as I sit there with my eyes closed holding my eye.

"Oh my God! Did Mike Tyson just punch me in the face?" I shout to no one in particular.

"No Blue." The voice sounds muffled and far away. I'm lifted up by my arm and am face to face with Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous himself but this time there's two of him.

No way did God bless this earth with two of him.

"Not Mike Tyson, babe. Just a football."

And Tariq has arrived! What do ya'll think is about to happen next? All I can say is Elodie is in for a wild ride ;)

If you enjoyed this chapter hit that star button and let me know what you think in the comments!

Love you all!

~LivingRed