Breaking The Rules

Chapter 4

What a morning.

I huffed out a sigh as I plopped down on the pull out couch. Easton had helped me roll out the extension that transformed the cream sectional into a bed. It took up a good chunk of space. So much so that we had to shift the desk in the room closer to the double closet doors. At least I still managed to open one of them and stuff what little I had with me inside.

I bounced up and down to test the mattress now that the sheets Easton had gotten me from the linen closet were on. It was firm, but it was a thousand times better than sleeping on a mat in a storage room.

Exhaustion hit me and I flopped back, my head hitting the pillows. I drew in a breath as I stared up at the ceiling. From what Easton had told me, the extra bedroom had transformed into a junk storage area shortly after they had moved in last year. There had been an attempt to have it be a gaming room. But even with the large window on the one outward facing wall, the cramped space got too hot with all four bodies in there at once.

And so, it was transformed into an office that was never used.

"Are you sure this is okay?" I had said to Easton when he escorted me upstairs about twenty minutes earlier.

For the third time that morning he waved off my concern. "I told you, it's fine. You can stay here for as long as you need to."

I clamped my lips shut. As much as I appreciated the sentiment, there was nothing he could say that would make me feel any less of a burden. It was almost second nature for me to feel that way––my norm. Miles had made me actualize that about myself on more than one occasion. Reassurance did nothing for me. So I stayed silent.

Easton led me down the hall, pointing to different doors as we went.

"That's my room." Easton gestured to the first door on the right of the staircase. "Of course Booker has the primary bedroom," he said, shifting the focus with his pointer finger. "Your room is on the other end."

I hiked the strap of my duffle bag further onto my shoulder as I followed him. The uncomfortable weight was taking its toll after lugging it all the way across campus. The other one dangled effortlessly down Easton's long frame and I was thankful that he had offered to carry it as I was packing up things in the athletic storage room.

As much as I hated to admit it, the sleepless nights and early wake up times had been taking their toll on me. I was wearing myself down. Both mentally and physically. Which is why I was happy––grateful––to take up residence at the Hockey House until I found somewhere else to go.

Easton's hand met a door handle as the other one continued to point. "Hendrix's room is off down that hall. His room is connected to a washroom that he shares with Maverick. It's closer, but if it's too messy in there you can use mine at the other end."

I nodded as he twisted the handle and opened the door.

"Don't mind the mess," he said, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Booker's a bit of a hoarder. We'll move his stuff into the garage."

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. I don't plan on being in your hair for long."

Easton gave me a look, but I didn't bother dissecting it. I stepped around him and into the room, grateful for the natural light that poured in through the window. It showcased the thin layer of dust that coated the desk against the wall, but that was nothing a good cleaning wouldn't fix. There was a gaming chair sitting in front of a monitor and a cream couch against the adjacent wall. The rest of the room was filled with other miscellaneous items. Textbooks, hockey sticks, and baseball caps. Lots and lots of baseball caps.