The Boyfriend Zone by Jillian Quinn

Icreep down the stairs in front of Preston wearing his Strickland Senators ice hockey T-shirt. His last name is on the back, along with his number—eighty-five. It even smells like him. His musky, manly scent fills my nostrils, and I know I’m screwed when I take one big whiff. I’m becoming too comfortable around Preston. He makes me want things I never thought of before, which is dangerous.

Doing my best to keep quiet, I take my time going down the stairs, hoping no one is in the living room. No such luck. Several pairs of eyes land on me. Preston’s teammates stare at me hard, their gazes intense. Because they know me. Realization crosses their faces, a few of them winking at Preston.

Ugh, what was I thinking?

“You never saw me,” I tell the room full of half-dressed hockey players. “I was never here. Got it?”

A few of them nod while two others grunt in acknowledgment.

“Way to go, Parker,” Julian Rivers says. “Coach Bryant’s daughter.”

Julian’s the son of a billionaire and plays on the second line. He sits next to three of Preston’s teammates, all of which clap.

Killian Kade whistles. “Banging Coach’s daughter is better than a hat trick.”

Like me, Killian is from the not so glamorous parts of Philly. If the rumors on campus are true, he’s a hacker who does shady work for criminal organizations to pay for his tuition at Strickland University.

I think over Killian’s comment for a second and realize he’s not talking about a hat trick in hockey.

Oh, my God, get me out of here.

I stop at the bottom landing and shoot Preston a warning glance.

“Bex is just a friend,” he tells them. “Don’t open your fucking mouths around Coach.”

Julian tips his hand to his head to salute him. “You got it, Cap.”

Preston hooks his arm around my back and whispers in my ear, “You might as well stay for breakfast now that most of the team knows you slept here.”

I cringe at the thought of anyone finding out about last night. The last thing I want is to become one of Parker’s puck bunnies. Nope, not happening.

I laugh. “I’m kind of scared of you cooking.”

He smirks. “I can’t cook. But Shannon does. She’s been here every morning for the last few days.”

I tip my nose in the air, taking in the scent of what smells like bacon. “I guess I can hang out for a few more minutes.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You guess?”

“Last night was a one-time thing,” I say under my breath.

“You mentioned that already. Several times last night. Every time I—”

I hold out my hand to silence him. “Don’t finish that sentence.” Turning to face him, I continue, “We can’t do this again, so don’t get any ideas.”

“You’re impossible, Bex.” He slaps my ass and pushes me further into the room. “C’mon, girl, I’m starving. Get your sweet ass in that kitchen.”

I chuckle at his comment and walk alongside him to the kitchen where we find Shannon cooking up a storm. She spins around from the stove, spatula in hand. A crowd of gargantuan hockey players sits at the island where Preston fed me… and fucked me.

Thinking about last night and what we did on the kitchen island causes my wetness to pool between my legs. Preston was amazing. At everything. It was literally the best night of my life, one I will never forget.

“Hey, Bex,” Shannon lilts. “I’m happy to see another woman in this house.” She points the spatula in Jamie’s direction. “These guys have been giving me hell all morning.”

“No, we haven’t,” Jamie says.

“Yes, you have,” she challenges with a smile. “There’s way too much testosterone in this kitchen right now.”

“If by giving you hell you mean admiring you from afar, then I guess I am.” Jamie licks his lips. “Turn around so I can admire you some more.”

She laughs at his stupidity, shaking off his comment, and glances at me. “See what I’ve been dealing with? Anyway, you hungry? I made enough bacon and sausage for you and Parker.”

I rub my stomach. “I can eat.”

Her face brightens. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled,” Preston and I say at the same time.

“Oh, look at you two,” Shannon says. “How cute? Soon you’ll be finishing each other’s sentences.”

“Ah, no… we’re not together,” I spit out.

She looks at me, then Preston, and smiles.

“Unwritten Coach rules,” Jamie says, and Preston looks as though he wants to choke him for mentioning it.

Because Preston knew that was between us. Except he didn’t keep his word.

“You told them?”

Annoyed, I sit at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, sorry.” He slides his chair across the tile until our legs are touching. “They’re like my brothers. None of them will say a word. I promise.” He says the last part staring into my eyes, and I believe him.

“What unwritten rules?” Shannon asks Jamie.

I let out a frustrated sigh and then give Preston the okay to inform Shannon of my father’s rules. Everyone in the room stares at me, and it’s super weird.

“Hmm…” Shannon says. “How come your dad has these rules? Did you hook up with one of his players or something?”

I look away from her for a second, considering my next words. Too many people are staring at me, this situation making me uncomfortable.

“Something like that,” I mutter.

“Really?” Preston chimes. “You never told me that.”

“It wasn’t anyone on his college team, so I didn’t think it was important.”

“Does he still play hockey?”

I nod.

“For a college team?”

I nod again.

Preston scrunches his nose. “Do I know him?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Yep.”

“Will you tell me about him?”

“Nope.”

“Can I at least get a hint? What team does he play for?”

“Why do you care, Preston? It’s not like we’re dating. We’re barely even friends.”

The entire room goes silent, all of them now looking at me in equal bewilderment as Preston. I reach out to touch his arm, and he sits back in his chair, dodging me.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to be so rude. I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t want to talk about it. Not now, anyway.”

“Did he hurt you?” He lowers his voice to a whisper and cups my knee in his hand. “Because if he did, I will destroy him.”

How do I answer that question?

“Can we talk about this later? Maybe when no one else is around?”

Or never. That would be preferable.

He forces a smile for my benefit. “Sure. How about I feed you before I walk you back to the dorms?”

“Sounds good. I have practice this afternoon.”

“Me, too.”

Preston drops his intrusion of my past—at least for now. It’s only a matter of time before I have to tell him about Kellan. And when he finds out the truth, he will lose his shit.

* * *

“Stop acting like Kobe and pass the ball, Bryant,” Coach Vaughn yells at me.

Whenever I hog the ball, my coach tells me I’m living up to my last name and acting like Kobe Bryant. His comments make me laugh every time.

I shake my head and chuckle, dribbling the ball once more before I pass it to Taylor. She catches the ball and palms it in her hands. She pivots her left foot and then lowers her stance, leaning into the girl behind her. Making some room, Taylor bounces the ball. She twists her body in an awkward position as she spins and then grabs hold of the ball again to make the layup.

Our three-man team wins.

Coach Vaughn blows the whistle. “Okay, ladies, huddle up.”

We gather around him and await his next instruction. Sweat slides down my face and runs into my eyes. Using my jersey, I wipe my forehead and cheeks. The gym feels about a hundred degrees with how hard we’ve played today. Or maybe it’s the hangover kicking my ass. I’m probably sweating out the alcohol from last night.

“Bryant, pass the ball this weekend. If you want to be a champion, act like one.”

I sigh. “I know, Coach. Sorry, I’m a little off my game today.”

He nods. “You can say that.”

“I’ll be on my A game,” I promise.

“I hope so,” he says, and then his eyes shift to the rest of the group. “Okay, ladies, I want to see the last two teams on the court right now.”

We walk over to the bench, dead tired after going at it for hours. I never do stupid shit like drink the night before practice or games. And I never hook up with sexy hockey players. So there’s that. I have to purge Preston from my system… if possible.

“You okay?” Taylor asks me.

I take a sip from my water bottle. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You look like hell.”

I roll my eyes at Taylor and then drizzle water over my head. “Thanks a lot. You know, we all can’t be like you and drink all night and crush it.”

“My hangover cure works every time. You should stop doubting my methods and try it sometime.”

I stick my tongue out. “Gross. Blended raw vegetables and protein powder? Nah, I’m good.”

“It’s more than that.” She shrugs. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I’d rather not drink. Like ever again.” I plop down on the bench next to Taylor, letting out a loud groan. “That should take care of the problem.”

“So…” She gives me an odd look. “What happened last night with you know who?”

Taylor knows better than to say his name around the rest of the team.

“What do you think happened?”

Her eyes widen, and she covers her mouth with her hand, surprised. She slowly lowers her hand, speaking between her fingers. “You guys hooked up. Wow! How was he? Does he live up to his reputation?”

I nod. “Oh, yeah. In every way.”

“Lucky girl. When are you seeing him again?”

“I’m not. He knows the deal.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Are you insane? You need to make it a permanent thing.”

“Things got weird this morning in front of his team.” I keep my voice low enough, so the other girls on the bench with us can’t overhear. “He asked me about Kellan.”

“You told him?”

“Well, no, but Shannon was there. She made us all breakfast. My dad’s rules came up, and when Shannon asked about them, she guessed the reason behind them. He looked like he would jump out of his skin when I told him he knows the guy.”

“What did you tell him?”

“It was awkward. I kinda yelled at him in front of his friends and then brushed it off like I would tell him later.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No need to. We’re not together. I don’t owe him an explanation about my past. It’s none of his business.”

“If he knew the truth, he would probably beat the shit out of Kellan. Wouldn’t that make you feel better?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It was so long ago. I’m over it now. There’s no reason to dig up the past. I just want to move on with my life.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She lifts a towel from the bench and wipes her face. “If you never get close to anyone, you never have to tell them anything. Isn’t that the Bex Bryant way?”

“It’s for the best. Don’t you think?”

She frowns. “If you say so.”

I say so.