Logan
Groaning into my pillow as sunlight spills into the room, I drag a hand down my face and try to scrub out the dream still clinging to my brain.
Ava Walker.
On top of me.
In my bed.
Ava fucking Walker.
She's been circling me like a hawk since sophomore year—shamelessly flirted in the stands, slid into my DMs, showed up to every game wearing practically nothing. For the longest time, I held out. She's a walking, talking cliché: Meadowridge University's puck bunny queen. Blonde, busty, loud—and very, very persistent.
Last night, I finally said yes. Gave in. And now, her golden hair is sprawled across my pillow like a trophy I never meant to keep.
I roll to my side, groaning again when I see her still asleep next to me, one leg tangled in the sheets. No matter how good the sex was—and it was good—I have rules.
Two, to be exact.
Non-negotiables.
No sleepovers.
One time only.
They've kept me sane. Focused. Hookups come and go, but hockey's been my only constant. Some girls try to change that. They pout, beg, try to get cute and convincing.
I stretch and glance at the clock—8:00 a.m. Practice starts at 9:30. Which means there's no way in hell my lazy-ass roommates, JJ or Archie, are up. They wouldn't wake up for the second coming of Christ, let alone a doorbell ringing this early.
JJ's been my best friend since freshman year. We bonded in the most humiliating way possible—locked inside a locker for an hour during tryouts. Archie's a sophomore but fits in like he's been glued to our side since birth. Sophomore year, we decided to move in together. This is our second year under the same leaky roof, and somehow none of us have killed each other yet.
Progress.
The doorbell rings again, louder and more persistent this time. I groan, grab a pair of sweats, and leave Ava passed out and very naked in my bed. I barely dodge the mess on the floor—red Solo cups, beer bottles, a rogue bra that better not belong to anyone I know—and make my way to the front door.
The chipped paint on the door is from the number of times JJ's tried to knock Archie out after a prank gone wrong. I yank it open with a sigh—
And stop.
There's a girl standing there. A new girl.
She's tiny, brunette, hair shoved into a messy bun, wearing grey shorts that barely qualify as clothing and a worn-out sweatshirt that says MUNI. Her blue eyes flick up to meet mine, wide and steady, and there's a kind of stubborn confidence in her stance that throws me off for a second.
She's not my type.
At all.
But she's... hot. Effortlessly hot. Gorgeous in that way that sneaks up on you.
I scowl instinctively. What the hell is a puck bunny doing here this early? It's not even noon—don't they normally crawl out of hiding once practice starts?
"What do you want?" I mutter, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
She makes a face. "Is JJ here?"
I cross my arms. "He's not in the mood for puck bunnies right now."
Her eyes narrow instantly. "Excuse me, what the fuck did you just call me?"
She jams her foot between the door and frame, pushes it open again like she owns the place. Behind her, I catch sight of something unexpected—boxes.
Lots of them.
I blink. "A puck bunny," I repeat, pointing to her. "You. That's what you are, right?"
Her jaw drops, and she lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "You hockey boys are such dicks. I can't believe this."
She glares at me like she wants to set me on fire. "I am the furthest thing from a puck bunny. And you better watch your mouth, little boy, or—"
"Gracie?" JJ's voice cuts through her rant like a record scratch.
I turn to see him—shirtless, bedhead, blinking at the sight of the girl in the doorway.
Before I can process anything, the brunette launches at him like a damn missile. Legs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck, and she squeals, "Cupcake!"
What the actual fuck.
"I thought you were coming the day before term starts," JJ says, laughing as he sets her down.
"I wanted to surprise you," she replies, hugging him again with the kind of affection that makes me weirdly uncomfortable.
I shoot JJ a look that basically screams, Who the hell is this tiny hurricane and why is she touching you like that?
He glances at me over her head and gives a sheepish grin.
And I know, without a doubt, this year just got a hell of a lot more interesting.
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guys I'm ngl I hated rewriting this chapter.....ugh I just want to go back to writing icebound hearts😞😞😞😞
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Our misfortune
RomanceNOT EDITED YET Gracie Owen's a headstrong journalist major rooms with her childhood best friend JJ Anderson for junior year, little does she know she is also rooming with two other hockey players and one being Logan West the captain of MUNI's hockey...
