A Deal With The Hockey Captain

Lila’s POV

There should be laws against boys like Ryan Keller.

Real laws.

The kind stamped by judges, and enforced by police officers with handcuffs.

Because no one should be allowed to look this damn handsome at eight-thirty on a Monday morning.

It was unnatural.

Probably illegal in several countries.

I stood near the front steps of Crestwood College with my backpack hanging off one shoulder, pretending to check my phone while shamelessly admiring Ryan across the courtyard.

He leaned against the stone fountain with two of his teammates, the sunlight catching in his brown hair as if it personally adored him. His white shirt sleeves were rolled to his forearms, his tie loosened just enough to look like he had already made someone lose control.

And by someone, I meant me.

The sound of his laughter shattered through my thoughts. He had laughed at something one of his teammates said.

Seriously, what was so funny?

Tell me the joke too!

He ran a hand through his hair, and for a second, I forgot my own name. 

This was getting ridiculous.

Honestly, I didn’t even know Ryan like that. We had exchanged only three words since the first year of college—when we accidentally bumped into each other.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

And then last semester in the library when he’d asked, “Is this seat taken?”

I’d said no, then proceeded to forget how to breathe for twenty whole minutes. So no, Ryan Keller was not in love with me. Hell, he probably barely knew I existed.

But did that stop my hopeless little heart from acting stupid every time he smiled?

Absolutely not.

Before I could gather a single sensible thought, he pushed off the fountain and adjusted the strap of his bag to leave. Even that looked attractive. How annoying. 

I moved on instinct, my feet following every one of his footsteps without thinking twice. Maybe today would be the day I finally summoned the guts to walk over and talk to him properly. Say something that would make him blink and realize I was the girl of his dreams.

Maybe—

I slammed straight into a wall.

Except it wasn’t a wall.

It was a person.

A tall, hard-chested, extremely annoying human disaster. My phone nearly flew out of my hand.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” a cold voice snapped.

I looked up—and immediately wished I hadn’t.

Cole Harrison.

Of course, it had to be him!

Because the universe clearly hated me.

Cole stood there in black jeans and a dark shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his forearms and the kind of veins girls in this school wrote poetry about. His hair was messy in a deliberate way, like he’d just rolled out of bed looking expensive.

“You usually crash into people for fun?” He mocked, glancing at his friends before looking back at me. “Or should I feel honored?”

“I’d rather crash into a moving bus.” I snapped back coldly. 

His friends snickered behind him, one of them laughing so hard he almost choked on his own laugh. 

For a moment, Cole said nothing. Then his mouth curved into that annoying smirk I hated with every breath in me.

“There she is,” he said softly. “Crestwood’s favorite little attitude problem.”

“I’m not little.”

“You’re at knee level.”

“I’d be at eye level if you stood up straight.”

That earned a louder laugh from his friends.

Cole tilted his head, studying me like I was mildly entertaining. “Aw…she has teeth.”

Of course I do. Dangerous ones. The kind I should be using to rip straight into his ego.

“Move,” I snapped.

“Say please.”

“I’d rather eat cement.”

“Tempting offer, but your cheap tricks won’t work on me.”

God, he was the worst. Annoying and unfairly good-looking at the same time.

Absolutely not. Delete that thought immediately, Lila!

I narrowed my eyes, forcing myself to remain calm despite the rage boiling inside. “Do you practice being a cocky jerk, or does it come naturally?”

“Natural talent,” he shot back quickly. Some people sing…some dance. I choose to irritate you.”

His friends burst out laughing again.

God, I hated all of them.

“No,” I corrected. “The only thing you’re doing is to embarrass yourself publicly. And I’m just forced to witness it.”

He let out a low chuckle, his eyes still locked on me. “Cute.”

“There is nothing cute about this conversation,” I  shot back. “Move, before I make a scene.”

“Your majesty…” he said, stepping aside with an exaggerated bow, “you are the scene.”

Without hesitation, I brushed past him, my shoulder slamming into his arm. 

He didn’t move an inch.

Of course, he didn’t.

Probably built out of arrogance and steel.

I kept walking, refusing to look back even though every nerve in my body was already sizzling with humiliation.

By noon, the entire campus was buzzing.

It was results day and half the students at Crestwood treated grade releases like it was the end of the world. People huddled in hallways checking portals, screaming, crying the moment their eyes landed on their results.

I sat inside the Economics lecture hall, refreshing the screen until my own results loaded.

A clean pass.

Oh… thank God!

I exhaled and smiled.

Of course, I passed.

I’d studied for weeks while everyone else was partying or pretending their future didn’t depend on one exam.

Maybe Ryan passed too…

I didn’t get to finish my thoughts, because voices behind me cut through them instantly.

“Did you hear?”

“No way.”

“I’m serious…I can’t believe he failed the midterm exams.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know. Heard it’s someone popular.”

My attention sharpened instantly.

Popular.

Male.

Please…please…please, God. Let it not be Ryan.

“Did they say who?” I asked, turning halfway in my seat to face one of the girls discussing it.

The girl shrugged. “No clue. But everyone’s talking about it.”

Oh no.

Ryan played football and he also has a very busy schedule. Maybe he hadn’t had time to study. He must be so heartbroken right now—he needs all the support he can get.

Maybe I could be that support.

This was fate.

Before my brain could think twice, I shoved my books into my bag and stood up abruptly. The hallway outside was crowded, students moving in packs, their voices bouncing off the walls. I spotted Ryan at the far end near the staircase, talking to someone.

Perfect.

I straightened my shirt, fixed my hair, and started walking toward him. Then someone stepped directly into my path.

I stopped so suddenly I almost stumbled backward. 

You have got to be kidding me!

Cole stood there with both hands in his pockets, his expression quieter now—nothing like the arrogant smirk he had earlier when he was mocking me.

“No,” I said immediately.

His brow lifted. “No, what?”

“No to whatever nonsense you’re about to say. Move!”

“I need a minute.”

“I need you to get out of my face.”

His mouth twitched.

“No.”

“Cole… I’m serious. Get off my path.”

I tried to walk away through the other side, but he moved with me. I stepped the other way.

So did he.

People brushed past us, some clearly noticing the tension between the two of us. Great. A public scene.

“Why are you so obsessed with annoying me?”

“Can you just hear me out?”

Cole’s words didn’t register because across the hall, Ryan laughed at something someone said and started heading toward the stairs.

No.

No, no, no.

My gaze snapped back to Cole. “What do you want?”

For the first time since I’d known Cole Harrison, he hesitated. Like, actually hesitated. His gaze flicked away, then back to me. Whatever this was, it clearly wasn’t easy for him.

“Well?” I demanded. “I don’t have all day.”

He stayed silent for another second.

Then he said, low enough that only I could hear:

“I…I need you to tutor me.”

Holy shit!

I blinked.

Hundred percent sure I had misheard him.

“You,” I said slowly, “want me to tutor you?”