Sitting up in bed, I look around. What time is it? I reach over my bedside table, hoping to grab my phone, and instead shove it to the floor. Just fucking great! I grumble, swinging my arm over the side of my bed and grasping my iPhone in my hand. It's 11am, and I should probably be already up, but I don't want to. I don't want to leave my apartment at all today. This stupid party has terrible timing. For real.

I launch Instagram on my phone, seeing new DMs. With a sigh, I open the first message and stare at full boobs. Riiiiiiiight. I look up the name, frowning. Jordan P. I don't even know her. Then how the hell did she end up in my primary list? I tap on a girl's profile photo and realization hits me. It's the one Clay fucked last night.

I roll on my back, holding my phone in the air while scrolling through her profile. She's beautiful and sexy, loves sports and music, but something is missing. Like dunno, just a feeling as if something is off. Besides even if her boobs look very appetizing, I have no desire to fuck her. Not yesterday, not ever. Especially not after her blowjob last night. It was lazy... no, not lazy, it was boring as fuck. And I hate boring.

Tossing my phone on my covers, I slowly stand up from my bed and stroll to my closet. Putting on a tee and a pair of sweatpants, I loudly yawn. Dammit! I will need a bucket of coffee to wake up. Walking out of my bedroom, I snatch my phone and head to the kitchen. Good thing I decided to buy some food yesterday, I won't be starving until I drag myself out of the apartment.

Before I start putting a sandwich together, I open my Spotify and MGK's "" fills the room. It's heaven. Literally. Never in my life could I imagine my asshole of a father would do something good for me. Yet he did. He rented this apartment, paying for the entire year in advance. 'Colton, it's your last year in college. Your chance to make things right, work on your grades and be signed by the team that picked you for the first-round draft. If you're lucky and won't screw up your chances, maybe you will be in the NHL team without any farm clubs. Please, at least once, do as I ask you. Focus on your studies and not just on pleasure.' Listening to him? Very unlikely. His speech almost forced me to say 'fuck you' to him and go back to live on campus. You see, I'm one of these people who prefers to do the opposite from things I've been told to do. Like, if someone tells me 'don't go there, there is trouble waiting for you', I will be like 'how can I stay away? Troubles are waiting for me!' With this apartment, I quickly changed my mind and didn't regret even once that I took the old man up on his offer.

Drinking my coffee, I sit down on the couch in the living room. I feel content and calm. Not how I'm used to feeling on Saturdays. Canceling my visit still feels weird. It has been my ritual for 5 years already, and not doing something so familiar has taken a toll on me. Even if I have done it for myself. It has become exhausting.

My phone dings and I take it in my hand. This girl doesn't know how to read between the lines, does she? I shake my head, opening her message.

: Do you like what you see? 😉

📱: Who are you?

Being rude is the key. She will back off, because... huh?

: Your cock fits my mouth perfectly. Last night proved that better than anything.

Dignity? Self-Respect? A healthy dose of confidence? She doesn't know these words for sure.

I dial Clay's number, stretching across the couch and clasping the tv remote. I need to fill my time, so I might as well kill a few hours by watching a tv show.

"What?" My best friend's voice is groggy and barely audible.

"Hello to you too, moron." I laugh, hearing him groan.

"Thompson, it's not even fucking noon!"

"Time to rise and shine, Rodgers." I turn on the TV, browsing through my Netflix in hope to find something that will catch my attention.

"When you said you weren't going to go visit your parents, I thought you would be busy railing some chick all night and again this morning." He yawns. "But you went home alone and now are calling me before noon... for what?"

"Why did that chick send me pics of her tits? Did she send them to you too?"

"Which girl?"

"From last night. The freshman."

"The one that I fucked? Or the one that fucked YOU up?" Involuntarily, I grit my teeth and press my palm to my cheek. It freaking stung for an hour last night and Clay's words reminded me about it as if it still hurt. I'm not sure it was just because she slapped me without any remorse. It was more about the defiance this freshman demonstrated. I'm not used to girls behaving like that with me.

"The one that gave me a blowjob."

"Nah, she didn't send me anything. I made it in her list, so now she set her sights on you. Solely on you." He chuckles, clearly not as sleepy as he was just a few minutes ago.

"I hate clingy." I mutter under my breath, tilting my head to the side as my eyes land on "". I haven't seen the third season, so maybe it's a good opportunity to catch up on things I like.

"I know, man. Everyone in college knows that, except maybe her." Clay cackles again. "Give her time and she will back off. Or just find another girl at tonight's party so she knows there is nothing for her to wait for."

"We'll see." I press my phone to my ear with my shoulder, as I put my cup on the table and straighten my back to sit upright.

"Damn, Colt, really, why did you need to wake me up?"

"Just because." I shrug off my shoulders, starting the first episode.

"What are you going to do?" Clay yawns loud.

"Watch Netflix."

"No chill?" He asks teasingly and I scoff.

"Why it's always about sex with you?"

"Because I'm young, dumb and broke," he sing-songs, trying to sound like Khalid. "Can I come hang out with you?"

"Are you suggesting we do Netflix and chill together?" I burst out laughing, hearing a silence in return, and then he murmurs.

"Sorry, man, you're not my type, like at all. I hope you understand."

"Yeah." I chortle, standing up from the couch and heading back to the kitchen. "Come over whenever you want. I don't have any plans anyway."

"Was your dad angry with your decision to stay in town?" I stop in my tracks, suddenly lost in my thoughts. No one knows where I really spend every Saturday, not even Clay.

"I don't care." I retort, taking a few steps closer and opening the cupboard. M&Ms. My damned guilty pleasure since I was ten and Mom bought them for me after one practice.

"Cool." Clay doesn't insist. He has known me for 11 years since we started playing hockey together. We have been there for each other, through thick and thin, and I appreciate the hell out of him. Even if he can be annoying as fuck. "I will grab something to eat and will be at your place in an hour, or so."

"Okay. Buy some pizza." I end the call and hide my phone in my pocket. Not how I envisioned the day going, but maybe it's for the best? Sometimes some unexpected things are exactly what we need to light up our lives and breathe fresh air into something resting in the dust. Plus, I definitely wouldn't say no to having a good laugh with my friend. Saturday hasn't been my favorite day of the week for a couple of years already, and it's probably time to start changing that. At least to try changing it.

At 10pm, Clay and I step into the house already full of people. Loud music echoes through the walls, finding its way under my skin. My blood boils, adrenaline rushes through my veins and I smile. I love this atmosphere, even if I often act like a Ebenezer Scrooge who hates parties and fun. The truth is simple. I was fun. I was the life of every party, until I realized I was on a path of self-destruction. When the coach says, 'another trick and you're out', you don't have much of a choice instead of obeying. Hockey is my life. I carry on with my college major for it. I breathe for the opportunity to be on the ice again. It's the only one thing in the world that makes any sense to me. The only thing that matters, and I will do anything to make it my career... even if it means running myself to death with late night practices and working to be the best during our games. I am a champ, and there is no way in hell I will give up on my dreams.

"Let's find some drinks." Clay clasps on my back, tearing me out of my thoughts. I simply nod and follow him further into the house. I feel eyes on me, and I don't pay any attention to them. Being on the hockey team taught me how to deal with popularity. With some bumps and thorns on the way, but I got there. I don't care what people think of me, whether they like me or not. It's just zilch. White noise. Nothingness. It's something isn't worthy of my attention or worries. Under any circumstances.

"Where is everyone?" I shout, trying to talk over the sounds.

"They should be by the pool." Clay looks at me over his shoulder. "Baker sent me a text."

Baker, a wannabe idiot. I roll my eyes and it doesn't go unnoticed by my best friend. He smirks, shaking his head and looking away from me. What? I'm picky, and I won't be friendly with just anybody. The dude joined the team last year, and I was having a ridiculously hard time tolerating his attitude. He's an arrogant, rich prick, and I have no desire to be associated with him. Unlike him. He has wanted to be my friend ever since, and I always need to remind him to back off. I try to be easy to get along with for the sake of the game and our team when it's needed. Outside the ice rink, I'm different and not everyone likes the boundaries I set. To be honest, I don't frigging care.

"Here." Clay shoves a bottle of beer in my hands. I hold his gaze, contemplating tonight's outcome. I haven't gotten drunk in what seems like an eternity. Maybe I can afford one night of total madness? I chew on my inner side of the cheek for a few moments, and then just take a sip. Not tonight.

We move further into the house, until I see Benson. He's a damn wall! Sometimes I feel smaller than I actually am, standing near him, and I'm fucking 6'3"! It speaks volumes of how this guy looks, while being a real softy inside. Guys joke a lot about his behavior, calling him a teddy bear. Truth be told? He doesn't get upset about it at all, and I don't remember him being angry even once. Only during the games, but who can blame him? When we are inside the ice rink, our emotions are running high. We set our eyes on the win, doing everything in our power to succeed, acting like an interconnected whole. One wrong move and you can rouse the beast in any of us. Not just in someone as hot headed as me.

"Drake, what's up?" Clay calls out to Benson, and he wheels his head to look at us. His cap turned around, and a smile playing on his lips. He's in an evidently good mood, and it's infectious. Being near this guy, even I act more nicely. Maybe that's the reason why I don't really like hanging out with him? He's rubbing off on me and becoming the life of the party is not on my radar.

"Hey Rodgers, Thompson." Drake greets us, and we shake hands. "Nothing. Literally nothing. Playing the role of the babysitter."

"Your sister is here?" Clay looks around.

"Yeah, she just went to use the bathroom with her best friend. As soon as they are back, I will be on a lookout again."

"Since when do you look after Layla so closely?" I arch my eyebrow at him, surprised. He made it clear last year. His sister was off-limits. He didn't want any of the guys from the team dating her or fucking her, and I respected that. We all did. Until today, he never tried to forbid her to have fun. Something was off.

"It's not actually about her." He shrugs. "Ava has a tendency to create trouble out of nowhere. I want to make sure everyone knows she's under my protection too, so next time there is a party, I will be free to do whatever I want."

"Ava?" Rodgers furrows his brow. "I thought her best friend was Grace."

"Grace is her roommate." Drake nods his head in the direction of the couch, and I follow it with my sight. Layla's roommate is sitting on the couch near Baker, flirting with him as if there is no tomorrow, while he looks bored. Not sure she has any chances with him, or anyone from the team. She's a bit too much. In everything. "Ava is the best friend."

"Is she someone new? Because last year, your sister and her roommate hung out with us at all parties, and I kinda thought they were best friends. Always together. Inseparable." Clay smirks, glancing at me, visibly happy with his joke. Yeah, he wasn't the one Benson's sister had her eyes on. It was me, and I tried damn hard not to offend her, telling her no, over and over. I didn't want to screw up my friendship with her brother, especially over meaningless sex.

Benson smiles, shaking his head. "Ava is our neighbor's kid. Layla has been friends with her... for eternity, even if she's one year younger than my little sis. They are, indeed, INSEPARABLE."

"Is she hot?" My best friend's gaze darkens, and I barely hold myself back from rolling my eyes. Though, it's not something that amazes me. Drake's reaction is interesting, if not to say the least.

"She is." He rasps, narrowing his eyes on Clay. "She's off limits."

"That's ridiculous! I totally get it, when it's your sister, but her best friend?"

"Her best friend is also off limits. That's final." Benson's smile fades away, and I blink in total stupefaction. A wild guess crosses my mind, and I keep my mouth shut. It's too early to draw any conclusions. For starters, I need to see this girl and watch Drake with her. Somehow, I'm sure I'm right.

Clay huffs, taking a sip of his drink to hide his irritation. The guy is just like me. He hates when someone orders him not to do something. He will be more than happy to go against anyone, except his teammates. Which means one thing, whoever this girl is, he won't be able to lay his hands on her. He doesn't want to have Benson as an enemy, no one does. Including me. A healthy atmosphere inside the team is the key for our future wins. If we are at each other's throats, we won't stand a chance against our rivals.

"What a pleasant surprise!" Layla's voice rings in the air, rising above music. "I thought you decided to skip the party."

I veer my head to look at Benson's sister, and instead my eyes land on her. The freshman. The one who didn't hesitate to slap me for my big mouth yesterday. Is she the best friend? If yes, I might refuse to go along with Drake's rules. This girl won't be hanging out with the team, not while I'm here. Not ever.