Breaking The Rules

Chapter 6

I was running out of options.

During my walk back to the Hockey House from a morning class, I received the email that I had been dreading. There were no openings in any of the campus dorms. I had expected it. We were already in October and the probability of a room becoming open this far along in the semester was unlikely. All I could do was put myself down on the waitlist and hope for the best.

The rest of the way home pertained to searching realtor websites for rental properties in the area. Again. My findings were the same as when I was living in the storage room on campus. Anything half decent was already spoken for while everything else was just egregiously priced and definitely out of range of what I could afford on my own.

As much as I hated to come to terms with it, there was a very good chance that I was going to be stuck rooming with a bunch of hockey players for longer than I anticipated. And that meant staying in the bedroom next door to Maverick.

When I made it back to my room I plopped myself down on the unmade pull-out bed and ran my hands through my hair, scratching at my scalp. There's nothing I wanted more than to find my own place and not feel like a burden to the people around me. For the last few days that I had been living there I tried to help out where I could. I'd wash the dishes after dinner or help bring the groceries in. I did my best to stay out of everyone's way––especially the tattooed jerk who was keen on me leaving.

But I had to be realistic.

I had a secure place to live until I was able to get back on my feet. And if I was going to be staying there, I wanted my things. Or at the very least, Oliver.

Easton and I hadn't discussed whether the rest of the guys would be okay with having a cat in the house. If they weren't, that was fine. I'd bring Oliver to my parents house and only see him on academic breaks if it meant having him back.

Which left me with the one thing I had been avoiding.

I stared at my phone screen for a prolonged moment before drawing in a deep breath. The hammering of my heart only worsened the longer I sat on the pull-out couch mattress. I swallowed, flicking open the lock screen with a swipe of my thumb. That had been a new luxury. Miles made it clear, pretty early on in our relationship, that he didn't like not having access to my phone. He explained it was because he wanted to know who I was talking to. To protect me.

From who? I had no idea, but I went along with it because, at the end of the day, I had nothing to hide. And, while I was sure Easton and the rest of the guys I was living with didn't care to see what was past the picture of Oliver, I enjoyed having that little piece of autonomy back.

My breathing shuttered as I opened my messages insearch of his contact. When I found it, Miles' wide grin was pointed at me. There was sand in his hair and a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the Florida sun. I remembered taking that picture. It was on the first trip we took together over Spring break during our sophomore year. We had only been dating for a few weeks at that point. But it didn't matter. I was giddy that he clearly liked me enough to invite me to go on a trip with him and his friends.

I was so giddy in fact that I didn't think it was a big issue when I backed out of the trip I'd been planning with my own friends for that week. I was so infatuated––so unwilling to see how fast things were moving.

Regret pooled in my stomach along with the jittering anxiety. It was a potent cocktail that had me on the verge of puking. After being sent another slew of calls from Miles the same day I moved into the Hockey House, I blocked him. It had been Easton's suggestion, just until I had figured things out, so that I could protect my peace. But while I knew he was right, I was also aware that blocking my ex boyfriend wasn't going to help me now.