Blocked (Boston Terriers Hockey #3) - Jacob Chance Page 0,40

play the big brother role with me? I already have Marshall to deal with, and he’s enough.”

“I can try. But it’ll be difficult.”

“Well, it’ll be more difficult for me if you make my life hell. And wouldn’t it be pretty freaking selfish of you to ruin my experience here? I already left one college. I don’t want to move on to another.”

“Yeah, I see your point.” I raise my bottle of water to my mouth, watching her over the top. Swallowing the cool liquid gives me a moment to gather my thoughts and pose the question I need an answer to. “Why did you leave U.N.H. anyway?”

She shrugs. “Lots of reasons.” Her pink lips close around the fork, taking a bite of a french fry.

I study her as she chews. She can keep her secrets for now, but someday I’ll get to the bottom of what happened there. I can be patient when it comes to Maddie. She’s worth the effort.

I lean forward on the table. “Is B.U. everything you hoped it would be?”

Her wide eyes lift from her plate. “Are you kidding? It’s so much more than I imagined. I love everything about being here.”

“Everything?” I raise a brow.

Her excitement fades slightly as she studies me. “Well, maybe not everything.”

I laugh. I may have lost an opportunity for us to be romantically involved, but maybe we can salvage our friendship. I’d like her to be a part of my world again. I’ve missed her—more than I should.

I realize nothing can ever happen between us. I still feel guilty for keeping our brief relationship from Marshall. No matter how attractive I still find Maddie, or how vivid the memories of her soft lips under mine are, I won’t allow myself to pursue anything beyond friendship with her.

She waves to someone behind me and pops up from her seat. “I need to go. See ya.” She takes off like she can’t get away from me fast enough.

Turning my head, I watch her meet up with Clover. My gaze scrolls over every inch of her, pausing to admire her heart-shaped ass wrapped in tight jeans.

She’s even more breathtaking than when we were together. Her cheeks have leaned out and the bones are more pronounced. The baby faced innocence is gone and has been replaced with breath-stealing elegance.

Facing forward once more, I shove a fry in my mouth and caution myself. Been there, done that. Keep your distance. Maddie is off limits more than ever, and if I have to remind myself one hundred times a day to make it sink into my stubborn brain, I will.

“Shaw, you’re up,” Coach Cutter shouts across the ice rink.

I skate over and take my place in front of the net. One by one, my teammates are going to try and score on me while I do my best to keep them from getting a goal.

Donovan’s up first. He’s one of our strongest players and definitely the best skater on the team. My teammates and I like to joke that he should’ve been a figure skater because he skates so pretty.

Really, there’s nothing pretty about him barreling down the ice, straight at me. It’s goddamn intimidating. My eyes focus on the puck and only the puck. I learned from day one of being a goalie that the puck is where my attention needs to be at all times. No one wants to have a goal scored on them from center ice, but it can happen. If I intensely watch the puck, it’s less likely to happen.

If you watch the players you can screw up your reactions. Donovan’s famous for head fakes and pump fakes, but I’m not about to fall for them because my eyes are where they should be. He draws his stick back and then forward in a pendulum motion, making contact with the puck. The black dot sails through the air toward my left shoulder and I automatically react, catching it in my glove.

Donovan’s head falls back, and I see the word fuck form on his lips.

“Better luck next time D,” I call out. Marshall’s up next and he’s grinning almost maniacally. I know he’s determined to score on me, but I’m equally if not more determined that he won’t.

I make sure I’m in the position I need to be as he skates forward. Again, my attention is on the puck. When he keeps coming toward me, I remind myself to be patient. If I move into the wrong position, I might not have