Page 10 of Rule Breaker

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Page 10 of Rule Breaker

I glanced behind us and counted heads, and the entire team was lined up. Everyone except Maddox.

When our bus pulled up a few minutes later, I was still pacing like I was hopped up on too much sugar. Still, no sign of our snide goalie. Maybe he wouldn’t show up at all. Maybe the Coach’s rules were gonna push him over the edge, and he’d quit.

Nah. No one dropped their team over something like that. The hockey world isn’t that big. If you get saddled with a difficultreputation, it can have consequences. I couldn’t afford to fuck up, but maybe Maddox didn’t give a shit. Still, I found it odd that a guy like that played a team sport.

“Maybe I’ll ask Silas.” I looked around and spotted the defenseman with his ear pods in, ignoring everyone around him. “I’m sure he won’t mind sharing with Maddox.”

“The answer to that is a hard no.”

I turned at the sound of Coach’s voice. Shit.

“You know the rules, Kayden. Rooms are set,” Coach muttered before he stepped onto the bus.

Fuck.

Ignoring my nerves, I shoved my bag into the underbelly of the bus and stepped on board. At least I could sit beside whoever I wanted. Same thing when we went out for a team dinner.

Dane and I took the seats behind Coach, with Jace and Sean on the opposite aisle, and everyone else filing on behind us. I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. We were leaving in five minutes, Maddox or not. The bigger part of me hoped he wouldn’t show up. I felt a bit guilty about that, but it was short-lived.

The bus driver talked to Coach, then got back to his seat, readying us to go.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Maddox finally stepped onto the bus, resting asshole face in place. His undercut was slicked back, with a few stray pieces of black hair falling into his eyes. He didn’t look at me, though. Didn’t even glance my way. Maybe Dane was right. Maddox would ignore me. Fine. The room situation wasn’t going to be a problem, right?

When he walked past me, I smelled tobacco and the muskiness of his leather jacket. That unsettled feeling in the pit of my gut hit me again. Or maybe it was motion sickness. Oh, wait, we were still in the parking lot…

Five minutes later, we pulled out of campus and headed for the highway. It was a six-hour drive to Rochester, and since I hardly slept last night, I crashed hard.

When I woke up, three hours later, I was starving and had the drool-crust on my mouth to prove it. I glanced around to find Dane typing on his phone. Jace and Sean were asleep, their heads back, mouths open, snores abundant.

I looked back and it was the same thing. The bus was quiet, except for the chainsaw that was Ethan’s nose, and the hum of someone singing with their headphones on. We’d be stopping for a bathroom break soon, thank fuck, and hopefully, a decent fast-food chain while we were at it. I needed carbs and fat.

Then I smelled it.

A cigarette. Not stale, like the day after a party. Actual smoke drifted over me.

I stood up and turned around to find Maddox, ear pods in, smoking a cig, relaxed as can be. When he glanced up, instead of his usual glare, I got a smirk, the corners of his lips curled up. I didn’t know which was scarier, his angry face or this one.

Coach was still asleep, but probably not for long. Without thinking, I got up and stalked to the back of the bus, not pausing until I reached Maddox.

“Put that out.”

He yanked out his ear pods. “What?”

“I said, put that out.”

“No.”

“No smoking on the bus, or didn’t you see the sign?” I hissed. “Coach catches you, and you’re fucked.”

Maddox shrugged and took another drag, then blew the smoke in my face. “He’s gotta have two goalies for the game. I’m not worried.”

“No one’s impressed by this so-called rebel routine you’re trying to pull off. It’s just annoying,” I snapped. “Now put that thing out before we all get kicked off the freaking bus.”

“You heard him.”

Thank you, Captain.I turned to find Dane standing behind me, giving as good a glare as Maddox.

Our goalie had one foot resting on the opposite knee, so he pushed the lit stub of the cigarette into the sole of his running shoe.




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