Page 112 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)

He kisses me, but the door flies open and interrupts us a second later. Taylor is standing in the doorway, and he’s furious.

“Oh my God. We’re all just fuckingelatedthat you two have made up, but we can celebrate later. We’re going to be late!”

Stone grimaces.

I smile. “Good luck, boys.”

Stone makes it halfway down the hall. “Ally will be here in ten minutes. I’ll see you in the stands, baby.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

He chuckles along with the rest of our housemates. “As if we’d let you stay here alone.”

The front door latches, and I rush over to the bedroom window and pry it open. All their heads swivel to me.

“I have homework!” I shout. “And a huge chemistry test! I can’t come to the game!”

“Study on the way!” Evan yells.

He’s such a traitor.

Archer nods. “It’s not safe for you to be alone.”

Stone angles his chiseled jaw in my direction. “Do it in the stands, Sticks. Or do it on the way. Either way, your ass better be there.”

I shove the window shut, and they haul ass down the road.

A Taylor Swift song catches my attention, and I know that it’s Ally.

There’s a defiant part of me that wants to stay home, just to irritate Stone. But at the end of the day, it really isn’t safe.

My father could be anywhere, and chances are, he’s closer than I think.

CHAPTER38

STONE

I toldher I loved her, and then I fucking bailed. Afterhate sex, no less. But she said it back. And it wasn’t really hate sex in the end, was it? Just…angry sex.

Because she loves me too.

I turn over her words the whole bus ride to Crown Point. While Shadow Valley has played here before, I haven’t. There’s a strong rivalry between the two schools, which are only a few hours apart. The tension on the bus seems to ramp up the closer we get.

Music—currently “Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down, a fucking masterpiece and somewhat ironic given Wren’s status as my kryptonite—blasts in my ears. Music is how I’ve always mentally slipped into the zone for hockey, but now…

Well, all thoughts point to Wren Davis.

I pick at a loose thread on the seat next to me. Over the music, the guys’ booming conversation filters in. They’re discussing plays, girls, the latest NHL games.

Funny how I’ve been here for only a few short months, and these guys are more like family than my old team ever was.

And with a ride to the New York Guardians sitting in my back pocket, I can’t help but feel like this is a time to savor.

Evan drops into the seat beside me and plucks out my earbud. “Hey.”

“What’s up?”

“You’re rich enough to afford your own place.”