Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Ten years ago

“Ummm…what are you doing?”

I shrugged without turning around. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re filling an empty, half-gallon container with milk from that milk dispenser that’s supposed to be for coffee.”

“There’s no sign that says there’s a limit.” I held up the empty coffee cup in my hand. “I paid for a coffee.”

When the milk reached the neck of the plastic bottle, I pulled the jug away and twisted on the cap. I turned, expecting to see one of the ladies who worked here wearing her cafeteria uniform, but instead my eyes landed on a gorgeous blonde I’d never seen before. She looked a few years older than me. I glanced around the room to see if whoever had started with me about the milk might’ve walked away, but nope… No one was around except her. She had her feet propped up on the chair in front of her, and I did a double take catching a look at her ankle.

“What’s going on there?” I motioned to her leg. A dozen or so colorful ice pops were taped around her ankle with black electrical tape.

“I twisted my ankle playing volleyball. It’s starting to swell, and no one has an ice pack. So it was these or beers. I figured ice pops are colder and plus, Andrea will let me return them if I bring them back unopened.”

“Andrea?”

She lifted her chin toward the cashier. “The woman you handed a dollar for your empty coffee cup to justify stealing a half gallon of milk.”

I chuckled. “You’re a stickler for rules when it comes to me, yet you’re stealing ice.”

“I’m not stealing. I paid for them. I’m just going to return them when I’m done, unharmed.”

“But they will no longer be frozen, correct?”

“Probably not.”

“Right. So you’re stealing the ice. The school is going to have to pay the electric bill for that freezing a second time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you return them while they’re still frozen to avoid becoming a thief? I have plenty of ice packs in my room. I’ll give you a few to ice your ankle properly.”

“Why do you have so many ice packs?”

“I’m on the hockey team. I’m always icing something.”

“You’re not just trying to lure me to your room, are you?”

I chuckled. “I’ll go get them for you. You can wait here.”

She tilted her head. “Why would you do that?”

“Because swelling should be iced and…” I shrugged. “You’re hot.”

She smiled, suddenly more shy. “Okay. Thank you.”

I lifted my chin. “What’s your name?”

“Teagan Kelly. What’s yours?”

“Max Yearwood. I’ll be back in a few minutes, Teagan Kelly.”

I jogged up to my room, grabbed a few instant cold compresses and a box of Cheerios, and went back to the cafeteria. Teagan was still sitting in the same place, but she’d removed the frozen ice pops from around her ankle and was now in the process of trying to unstick the pops from the tape.

She looked at the crap in my hands. “What are the Cheerios for?”

“Breakfast.”

“But where’s your milk?”

I grinned and lifted the empty coffee cup I’d bought earlier, pointing to the machine. I’d left my nice, full half gallon in my fridge back in my room.

Teagan laughed. “What’s your major, Max?”

“Math.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t seem to go with hockey.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “Dumb jock stigma.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“So you expected me to be stupid because I’m so pretty?”

She laughed. “Sorry. I guess I was kind of labeling you.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll give you a pass. What’s your major? Baton twirling? I mean, you are hot.”

Setting everything except one of the ice packs down, I whacked the plastic bag against the table to activate the cold. The inner bag made a popping sound and began to swell. After I finished getting the second one ready, I pointed to her foot. “Can I take a look?”

“I’m a third-year med student. I can get it checked at the hospital later. I just started ER rotations, and I stand for hours at a time. I just wanted to keep the swelling down before I had to go over there in a little while.”

My brows shot up. “You’re a third-year med student, and your treatment plan of choice was ice pops and electrical tape?”

“Shut up. It’s what was available.”

“Can I take a look anyway?”

She sighed. “Sure. Why not?”

Fifteen years of playing hockey, with doctors feeling all of my battered bones, had made me pretty damn good at guessing the extent of an injury. I put my hand on her anklebone and pressed. “Does this hurt?”

“Not really.”

Sliding my hand to the soft part of her ankle, I pressed again. “What about this?”

“Oww—yeah, that’s right where it hurts.”

“Any numbness or tingling?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just sore right where you touched.”

I nodded. “Good. It’s probably not broken. You’d feel it in the bone if it were. My money is on a bruise.”

“Your money? You just bought an empty cup to steal milk. I hope you’re not insulted if I don’t think that statement holds a lot of weight.”

“Good point.” I held out the ice packs to her. “Where’s your sock? You should put it on and tuck these inside. It works a lot better than electrical tape.”

Teagan leaned to the floor and scooped up her backpack. She found her sock, pulled it on, and planted the ice packs inside. While I watched, my stomach growled, so I tore open the box of Cheerios, filled my trusty coffee cup, and poured in some milk from the dispenser before pulling a big spoon from my back pocket and taking a seat across from her.

She laughed. “You brought your own utensil, but not milk?”

I shoveled a heaping spoonful of cereal into my mouth and spoke with it full. “The spoons down here are too small.”

“Oh, I see.” She nodded. “You prefer a shovel.”

“I just burned twenty-five-hundred calories at practice. I’m starving.” I pointed to her colorful collection of ice pops on the table. “You better move those, or I might eat them next.”

When I finished the first cup of Cheerios, I immediately poured a second.

“Are you going to eat that entire box?”

“Do you want some?”

“No.”

I shrugged. “Then yeah, probably.”

Teagan laughed. She thought I was joking, but I did eat the entire box most of the time. I freaking loved Cheerios.

“So are you any good?” she asked.

“I’m good at pretty much everything, so you’re going to have to be more specific.”

She rolled her eyes. “At hockey. I mean, if you get injured so much that you can tell if bones are broken, that probably means you aren’t, right?”

I grinned. “You don’t know shit about hockey, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Injuries are part of playing. If you aren’t icing something, you’re not getting much playing time. I’m the team captain.”

“Are you a senior?”

“Freshman.”

“I didn’t think they named freshmen as captains.”

“They don’t. Usually.”

Teagan tilted her head. “Should I be impressed?”

“Nah. Got plenty of better things for you to be impressed about.”

“Like what?”

“Go out with me and I’ll show you?”

She laughed. “Smooth, Captain Yearwood.”

“So is that a yes?”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen. Why?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

I shrugged. “So? Doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you?”

She tapped her finger to her lip. “I’m not sure. If we did go out, where would we go? Is go out with you code for hookup in your dorm room? Or do you really want to take me out?”

“I’ll take you wherever you want.” I held up my cup of Cheerios. “Though I’m not a fan of eating O Toasties, so make it within reason.”

“O Toasties?”

“Yeah, you know, the knock-off brand. I eat a lot of Cheerios, and if I’m broke, I’m going to have to eat those things, and they taste like cardboard.”

Teagan grinned. “Too bad people don’t put Cheerios in their coffee and there’s no cereal machine you could rob, huh?”

I finished my second cup of Cheerios and downed the milk from the cup before shaking a third helping from the box. I looked around the empty cafeteria. “No Cheerios machine, but there must be a sarcasm dispenser somewhere, since you’re so full of it.”

Teagan tried to hide her smile. “How about a party with your friends?”

“As a date?”

She nodded. “I don’t go to a lot of parties anymore. But I think you can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep. It’s also cheap—and will keep you in those oh-so-important brand-name Cheerios. So why not a party? It’ll help me figure out if our age difference is just a number or a maturity gap.”

Shit. Most of my friends were immature idiots. A party wasn’t a good idea.

Teagan noticed my less-than-excited face. She arched a brow. “Unless you don’t want me to meet your friends for some reason?”

It seemed like she was daring me to say yes. I was nineteen and played hockey, which meant I never met a challenge I didn’t like. So I smiled. “How about Saturday night?”