BLAZE: Enemies to Lovers College Hockey Romance by Eddie Cleveland (ebook reader macos .txt) 📕

came. Then I spent my entire night listening to the whispers of ghost texts haunting my imagination. Even when I pulled my heavy eyelids open this morning, I fully expected a message to be waiting for me. To hear something.

Not a word.

He’s not sorry. Why would he be? Blaze has never hidden who he is. He’s shared a few tender words, and I let myself think they meant something. Whatever message I thought he was sending me has been erased by his silence.

Making my way to the gate, I keep doing the Skittle and coffee thing until both are empty. I toss the trash and wait for my magic energy elixir to do its thing. I’m pretty sure when you get as bad a night’s sleep as I did, Skittles and coffee are only good for keeping you alive. Barely.

Slumping into one of the airport seats, it isn’t sugar or caffeine that snaps my spine to attention; Blaze’s voice sends that jolt. Not that he’s talking to me. He and Canuck sit next to each other in the next aisle over.

I do my best not to look at him, but my best is pretty weak. I blame the lack of sleep. If he can feel my eyes on him, he doesn’t show it. Even though I keep telling myself not to look his way one more time, I do.

It keeps happening until the boarding announcement starts. It keeps happening when the group shuffles into two big lines. It happens again when I get on the plane and see him slump in his seat near the back.

Blaze never looks at me. He never notices my presence. Not once. It’s not like he’s trying to ignore me either. He’s not twisting away, pretending he doesn’t see me. He doesn’t care.

My seat seems like the perfect place to slump down and feel sorry for myself. I am fully prepared to wallow in self-pity all the way to Philadelphia. At the very least, I will weave it in around some naps.

The waft of booze hits me before I realize where it’s coming from. Rookie sits next to me, and the smell spreads. He looks like he got run over by a truck, and then the truck reversed to make sure the job got done. He leans his head back and closes his eyes.

“Uhhh,” he moans. “I want to die.”

“I don’t feel any sympathy for you.” I sniff at him.

A lady with a blue blazer and a bored expression stands at the front and starts the airplane safety routine.

“You knew we were flying,” I whisper. “You knew you were playing in finals. You knew you were breaking rules. You get what you deserve.”

I’m not sure that Rookie deserves my anger. It’s Blaze who broke my heart. Now it’s my turn to lean back in my chair and close my eyes. Except, I’m trying to stop myself from crying, not from throwing up.

“Prissy?”

“What?” I open one eye and peer at Rookie. He looks gray. The dark circles under his eyes aren’t helping his complexion. He might be wishing for death, but he already looks like it.

“I just want to say sorry. I know I caused a lot of shit. Thank you for not narcing to the coach.” He keeps his voice low just in case. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Blaze didn’t bail me out. God, I can’t believe how much money I spent.” He rubs his hands down the sides of his face. “Ugh. He was right… living like this sucks. I’m never drinking or going to another strip club as long as I live.”

“Wait, so you went to Foxies by yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“And that money?”

“I know,” he groans. “I’m going to pay Blaze back as soon as I can.”

My stomach sinks. “Why?”

“With hockey, you’ve always got something to prove. I'm in my first year on the team, and I’m sure you know why they call me Rookie.” He looks down, embarrassed. “I was pretty drunk by the time I showed up at Foxies. I’m not even sure how I got there, to be honest.”

“Okay.” I nod.

Rookie looks relieved, and his confession must help ease his conscience because he passes out cold. I don’t disturb him. He needs sleep.

I cringe, realizing that all that stuff I said to Blaze...ugh. Now I understand why he never called me or tried to make it right. I’m the one who messed it up. I jumped to conclusions and jumped down his throat.

An apology is absolutely needed, but I’m the one who needs to make it. After the way he’s been ignoring me, I know he doesn’t want to hear the words I have to say. After how I treated him, I don’t know if he’ll ever listen to me again.

28

Pussy & Parties or Prissy Blaze

“Out of sight, out of mind” is bullshit.

Prissy has been in my periphery all day: at the airport, checking into the hotel, on the bus to the arena… It wasn’t easy, but I kept her off my mind. Controlling your thoughts isn’t easy, and adding drama like last night makes it almost fucking impossible. But I did it. I used the same techniques I explained to Prissy’s mother to block her out. My only focus today was on winning the first game of the tournament.

And that’s exactly what we fucking did.

Canuck and Rookie play cards at the small table and chairs shoved in the corner of my hotel room. The door is propped open and all the guys on the team are free to come and go. Every time we have an away game, the entire floor of the hotel becomes one big team hockey lounge. Until lights out, guys are weaving in and out of rooms and conversations. Normally, there’s pizza and beer, but with our final game of the Frozen Four tomorrow, it’s all veggie trays and protein shakes tonight.

Now, at the hotel, it’s easy to avoid her. Keeping her out of my mind is