Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

KAYDEN

I finally fell asleep an hour after we left Rochester. And I woke up five hours later to find Dane standing in front of me.

"We're home. Time to get off the bus, bud."

I glanced around and sure enough, the bus was empty, save for the two of us.

Maddox was probably the first one off. And hey, maybe he didn't want to listen to me, but at least he was talking now. I knew he couldn't stay silent forever. Sooner or later, I got everyone to talk. Wait. That sounded like I was a mafia don or something. I snickered at that image. Me, as an enforcer? Man, I was sleep-drunk.

"Kayden, are you okay?" Dane asked.

"Yeah." I grabbed my bag and stood up, still groggy. "I crashed hard and now I feel loopy."

"No kidding, and after that game?" Dane ran a hand over his face. "I'll probably sleep all day tomorrow."

"Maddox is gone."

Duh, Kayden, state the obvi.

Dane nodded. "He hightailed it outta here as soon as we came to a stop."

"Figures."

Dane started down the aisle, and I followed.

"You guys were talking at dinner," Dane said over his shoulder. "How'd that miracle happen?"

"I have no freaking clue. I kept talking and asking him question after question. And he finally cracked."

"Maybe you should consider a job as an interrogator with the CIA instead of playing professional hockey."

"Hilarious, D."

We stepped off the bus and into the crisp night air. I glanced at my phone, 12:30 a.m. I was tired, but now that I was awake again, wired. Then I remembered I'd exchanged numbers with Maddox.

Kayden: Hey bestie! Did you get back to your room safely? TTYT

I didn't expect Maddox to reply. If anything, he was probably going to block me.

By the time we made it back to the dorm, I was more than ready for my bed. I said goodbye to Dane and headed to my room down the hall. My dorm roommate, Darby, was already asleep. I tried to be as quiet as possible, though it was never the case. But since Darby was a pothead, he never woke up when I stumbled around. It was a good match.

I glanced at my phone again. No reply from Maddox. I'd expected something. A ‘fuck off' for sure. But, nope.

My head hit the pillow, but my brain was running a hundred miles an hour. Thinking about the loss today, the next game, whether I was going to hit my GPA goal…

To distract myself, I put in my ear pods and pulled up a music app. But instead of my usual tunes, I searched for ‘90s grunge.

Maddox was still a mystery, but at least I finally had one clue.

The next day

I was in the gym, doing a workout, when my phone pinged.

Maddox: Meet at the library at 3. Second floor, near the elevators.

It was 2:50. Thanks for the heads up, Mad. Shaking my head, I slowed the treadmill to the lowest setting, hopped off, and headed off to change. There was no way I'd have time to shower. Whatever. I quickly got dressed and ran like hell across campus, arriving at the library at 3:05. When I headed up to the second floor, I looked around. No sign of Maddox. What the fuck?

"You're late."

I startled, whirling around. How was it that this guy could sneak up on me like that? Was my hearing going or something? And then, I could hardly breathe. Probably because I ran like a track star to get here.

Maddox wore a tight denim button down, sleeves rolled up, ripped jeans, and chucks. He hadn't shaved, and the scruff really suited him. No matter what he wore, he was always effortlessly cool. Strands of his black hair fell into his eyes, and I had the strange urge to reach out and push them off his face.

Uh, no. I was overtired. Or lightheaded from that run. What was wrong with me?

Maddox glared at me like he was about to ask the same question. Then I remembered that I'd come from the gym. I was hot, sweaty, and probably not smelling my best. Or looking my best. Not that I should care what I looked or smelled like. Not with him.

"Where'd you come from?" I asked.

He pointed to the far end of the floor.

"I booked us a room," he replied. "Come on."

He started off, and I quickly caught up to him.

"Just the two of us?" I teased. "Aw, Mad."

"It's because I know you won't shut up and I don't want to have everyone in the library staring and telling us to be quiet."

I couldn't argue with that.

We walked past several study rooms, and when we arrived at the last door to the right, Maddox opened it and ushered me in. There was one large desk, two chairs, and the unwelcome glare of florescent lighting.

Maddox dropped his backpack on the table and pulled out his laptop.

"You could've given me more warning, you know," I added. "I was working out. I had to run from the gym, no shower, and I'm sweaty as hell."

Maddox eyed me up and stepped closer. At least one of us smelled good. He leaned in and for a second, I thought he was going to touch me. My heart pounded so fast, I was dizzy. Maybe I'd run too much at the gym? And why was I blushing again?

When Maddox closed the door behind me, I realized I'd panicked for nothing.

Calm down Kay. This is a study session, not the start of a porn scene.

Not that I should be thinking about porn, or sex, or Maddox touching me. Or touching him. Or anything like that. I wasn't into guys. That I knew of. But Maddox was definitely hot. And why I noticed was beyond me. Holy fuck, never mind a workout; I was sweating more now than I was at the gym. I really should've jerked off when I woke up this morning. Being backed up was fucking with my head.

"I'm used to hockey sweat." Maddox smirked. "Now, sit. Let's get to it."

"So bossy."

Not gonna lie, I was kind of into it.

"You don't like it, you're free to leave," he quipped.

Nope. I'd take bossy Maddox over the silent one any day. I obediently sat down in the chair beside him and pulled out my tablet with sweaty hands. Hands that were shaking. Shit.

"Okay, so, the essay assignment requires us to provide real-world examples of scarcity in microeconomics, including demand, supply, and structural," Maddox stated.

"So, a paragraph on each?" I asked.

"More like two or three. The entire essay has to be seven hundred words minimum."

"I get the concepts," I replied. "The problem is writing my thoughts down. It's all ends up looking like a jumble."

"Do you dictate?"

"Sometimes. But my learning advisor told me not to rely on it."

Maddox shrugged. "Maybe they're right. In theory. But it's your class and your grade. Do what you need to in order to get the best mark you can."

I nodded. He was right.

"Let's work on our own essay for fifteen minutes, then we'll switch and give our feedback," Maddox offered.

"Okay. But you're going to put your headphones on, right?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to dictate. And it's weird to have you listen to me as I speak."

Maddox rolled his eyes. "Hello? You don't have a problem talking my ear off."

"That's different."

Maddox grabbed his headphones and put them on. "Happy?"

I nodded, and he turned to his laptop, typing away. Fuck, he was fast.

And I was, well, I was too busy staring at him to focus on my essay. Until Maddox turned his head and mouthed ‘ work .'

I searched my backpack for my ear pods, shoved them in, and opened my writing software. I started dictating, but it took getting used to. The software didn't catch all my words, and some weren't correct, but I could go back later and edit. Still, it was much easier for me to express my thoughts this way. I didn't have to stare at a blank screen for ages.

I was already two paragraphs in when Maddox stopped typing, and turned to me.

"Okay, let me see what you've got."

We switched, but I had a difficult time reading Maddox's text.

"I'm going to scan this into my app, if that's okay?"

"Do it," Maddox replied.

Once I scanned it, I started reading. And, man, his essay was good. Not good, incredible. He sounded like our teacher. My essay was so simple in comparison. Too simple. Oh God, this was embarrassing. The study session was my idea, and it was turning out to be a bad one. Now Maddox would know just how dumb I really was.

Suddenly, I was the one who wanted to be left alone.

"I'm not feeling good," I muttered. "I have to go."

Maddox silently handed over my tablet, and I shoved it in my bag, not making eye contact. The sooner I got out of here, the better.

Once I was out the door, I hauled ass for the elevator.

I looked over my shoulder, but Maddox hadn't followed me. Good. What a relief. He didn't want to be around me, anyway. He was probably thankful I left. And it made me wonder why he'd said yes to helping me in the first place. I was teasing him yesterday. I didn't think he'd actually go through with it.

Maybe this was all a joke to him? Maybe I was the joke.

My stomach clenched tight as I headed out of the library and back to my dorm.

Forget about Maddox. Forget about trying to be his friend. Ignore him. Like he wanted you to.

Why did I feel this intense need to be around him, anyway? What was going on with me?

Hours later, as I lay on my bed, alone, listening to music, I replayed every moment since we'd met. And the answers I was searching for? The ones about why I was so determined to figure out Maddox?

They never came.