Page 4 of The Draft

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be the meat. They’d be the ones bringing that.”

“You’ve got no shot with Aiden Matthews,” I said sharply and then tried to tone down my annoyance. “The only thing I know about him is that he called dibs on his next-door neighbor the minute she moved in and he likes to remind everyone of that fact on a weekly basis.”

That made her smirk fall and blow out a breath that sounded somewhat similar to a deflating balloon. I didn’t mean to crush her dreams, but I couldn’t deny I was happy about it.

“Okay. Well, that makes it a little easier, then. Devin or Adam? Adam or Devin?” Madison raised her brow. “DevinandAdam.”

I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply, cursing Scotty under my breath again for being the reason I was suffering through this conversation. “Madison. Can we please talk about something other than your desire to have a threesome with the football team? It’s getting tiresome. No one is going to play into your deluded fantasies, especially not a couple of guys that are roommates.”

She dropped her shoulders. “All right. I get it. You still think of me as Cade’s kid sister, but you don’t have to get shitty about it. I’m just tryingto do what any girl in my situation would, and even though you may not think it, I’ve been told by a few guys that I’m cute.”

She was a hell of a lot more than cute, and I felt a little bad that she’d taken my words to heart. The reality of seeing a girl I thought was perfect have her confidence throttled by a guy like Henry was rough because he was so undeserving of the status she gave him. She apparently dated that dirtbag for at least six months in secret since Henry was on the hockey team and he convinced her that it was best no one knew about it. What an idiot. If I managed to get a girl like her, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops. The only reason the school found out about them was because I’d broken Henry’s nose after catching him with my girlfriend.

I still remember that day like it was yesterday. Henry was slumped against a locker, holding his head while the foam roller I hit him with was lying on the ground next to him. It was only after I heard Madison’s meek voice say, “Henry,” and I saw her trembling chin and wide eyes, that I knew he’d done something to hurt her. It gutted me because she was so innocent, and perfect. It was in that moment that I’d made a vow to myself that no one would hurt her again.

The satisfaction of hearing his nose crack when I punched him was good, but it wasn’t enough to make up for her tears. I might have gotten a one-week suspension out of it, but it didn’t really matter for me. I just missed the last few classes of my senior year. That was it. The thing that really got me was that I never got to make Henry pay for his mistake on the ice.

Yet. I should say. I’d heard he’d made an impact at one of our main rivals, Southern Collegiate, in his first few weeks there, which meant there was a possibility I’d finally see him on the ice this year.

“You are cute.”

Oh, damn. There it was again. Madison’s overeager smile. The one that crushed any barrier I tried to put between us.

“You think so?”

“Yes,” I croaked out, immediately regretting it. “But that doesn’t mean I think it’s a good idea for you to speak to those guys.”

I was ready to give her a lecture on athletes and their intentions, but I could already see she was rolling her eyes.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

With a bright smile, Madison jumped from the stool and sang, “Welp, I guess you can’t stop me now.”

“Madison, wait.”

Ignoring me, she made her way to the football team, shaking that pert little ass of hers on the way. Fine. If she wanted to play dirty, I was willing to go over there, drag her out of here, and lock her in her dorm if I had to.

I shut my eyes, trying to stop the thoughts running through my head at the mere idea of locking her in my room.

I pushed back my stool, ready to haul her over my shoulder and kill anyone that got in my way, when a short brunette barged in front of me.

“Dash, it’s so nice to finally meet you. My name is Sienna Lawrence.”

All of my hopes were crushed when she pushed her hand in my direction because I knew immediately who she was. The communications major who was taking her job as a hockey broadcaster a little too seriously for a freshman.

She was glaring at me from over her black-rimmed glasses, pouting her red-lined lips as though I’d ticked her off because I was breathing. With long, dark hair, Sienna was a beautiful girl, but unlike most of the women here, she wasn’t looking for a date.

She wanted a story.

And for some reason, she thought that I was the answer to it.

For weeks, she’d been trying to secure a time for an interview, and I’d spent just as long ignoring her, but she wasn’t taking the hint.

As I accepted her hand with a shake, she somehow lulled me back to my table and onto my seat.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of,” she said with a flirty edge, but I knew she had no interest in me. This was all business. Sienna pulled out her notebook and clicked her pen on before she scribbled my name across the top line of the paper.