Semua Bab The Hockey Star Regret : Bab 81 - Bab 90

ColeenThe idea had hit me a week ago, right in the middle of folding towels at the athletic complex.Hayden’s birthday.I knew the date by heart. March 21st. We’d gone to the same high school, so I remembered him skipping class one year because his dad had dragged him to some hockey-related dinner, and the guys in my math class had joked about how even birthdays were second to hockey for Hayden Michaels.Now, years later, he was mine. And I wasn’t about to let his birthday pass unnoticed.Still, planning the surprise wasn’t easy. Hayden wasn’t exactly the type to let me sneak around. He noticed everything, when I was stressed, when I hadn’t eaten, when I was trying to pretend I wasn’t jealous. So I had to get creative.That’s where Jason and Logan came in.“Wait,” Jason said when I first pitched the idea after one of their practices. “You want us to what?”“Distract him,” I said firmly, crossing my arms. “Keep him away from his apartment while I set up. You two know him better than a

HaydenThe first thing I noticed when I woke was the warmth.Not the usual heavy blanket warmth, but something softer.My bed felt oddly more comfortable and I couldn't help the smile on my faceI blinked my eyes open, the dim light filtering through my blinds casting faint lines across the bed. That’s when I saw her.Coleen.Her dark hair spilled across my pillow, her face half-buried in it, lips parted slightly in sleep. She was curled toward me, one hand resting on my chest like she’d claimed it as hers during the night. My arm was draped around her without me realizing it, holding her against me.For a long moment, I just lay there, staring at her, memorizing every detail. The rise and fall of her breathing. The way her lashes brushed against her cheeks. The fact that she was here, in my bed, in my life, like she belonged.I felt something tighten in my chest. This was not the first time I was waking up to her but it felt different every time, in a good way. Like the more I woke u

COLEENThe hum of the vacuum echoed faintly in the athletic complex as I finished sweeping around the bleachers. My back ached from bending too much, and I blew a strand of hair out of my face as I tied up the trash bag. It was nearly nine, and the place was finally empty, just the faint scent of sweat and ice lingering in the air.Tired didn’t even begin to cover how I felt. Between classes, shifts here, and trying to keep up with essays, I was stretched thin. But the thought that Hayden was outside waiting for me had kept me moving, step after step, until I could finally toss the bag into the dumpster and clock out.Sure enough, when I pushed open the heavy doors, there he was.Hayden leaned casually against his car, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, his hair still damp from his post-practice shower. He looked up the second he heard me, and that grin, the one that made me feel like my chest was about to crack open, spread across his face.“Finally,” he called, straightenin

COLEENThe quiet hum of Hayden’s desk fan filled the room as I scribbled furiously into my notebook, the lamp on the corner casting a soft golden glow across the pages. My knees were pulled up on his bed where I had built a fortress of textbooks, highlighters, and sticky notes.Hayden, meanwhile, sat at his desk, hunched over his laptop, brows furrowed in concentration as he scrolled through notes for one of his sports management classes.It was quiet... comfortable. The kind of silence that didn’t feel empty but steady, like a rhythm we’d fallen into.I chewed the end of my pen, reading the same sentence for the third time, when Hayden’s chair squeaked.“You know,” he said, swiveling to face me, “for someone who’s been glaring at the same page for twenty minutes, you look very focused.”I glanced up, scowling. “I’m not glaring. I’m… analyzing.”“Right,” he drawled, pushing back from his desk. “Analyzing the same paragraph into oblivion.”“Shut up,” I muttered, throwing a sticky note

HAYDENCoach’s whistle cut through the rink like a gunshot, sharp and merciless.“Again!” he barked, voice echoing against the boards.I bent forward, sucking in air, legs burning from the suicides we’d been running for what felt like forever. Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I pushed off the line when his whistle shrilled again. Jason skated beside me, muttering under his breath.“Pretty sure he’s trying to kill us.”“Good,” I panted back. “Means we deserve it.”The sting of our last loss still hung over us like a storm cloud. Practice wasn’t going to be light, not after that disaster. And Coach made damn sure we knew it.When we finally reached the end of the drill, Coach paced the ice, glaring at each of us like we were individually responsible for the embarrassment. “Last game was unacceptable. Do you hear me?” His voice boomed.“Yes, Coach!”He didn’t look satisfied. “We didn’t lose because the other team outskated us. We lost because you forgot what it means to play as a team. Ev