Ruthless Player: A College Hockey Romance (Westfall U Series)

by R. C. Stephens

  “That would be great,” she reaches forward and embraces me in a strong hug. “I missed you so much, Holly.”

  “Me too,” I say, hugging my sister.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I announce as I leave out the door. Cole has already gone out of his way for me. I don’t want to bother him again and ask him for a ride.

  As I’m walking down the street, I think of what Mary said about my mom setting up a trust fund. Why has Dad never mentioned it? Was it his way of controlling everyone around him? How would I go about finding out if one exists? Or maybe there was something in Mom’s will that was left for Paris and me. Mom had been sick for a couple years. She was always on top of things. I can’t imagine she didn’t do something to ensure Paris and I were looked after. Unless she believed that Dad would take care of us.

  By the time I make it back to Cole’s house I’m dead on my feet. I knock on the front door and Declan answers. “Hey,” I say.

  “So you’re the new roomie, huh?” he asks, and he steps aside for me to walk in.

  He has a huge box of pizza open on the couch.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure for how long. I think Blossom is going to set up my sister with an apartment,” I say.

  “Well, it’s fine by me. I’d think you’d have more of a qualm about it considering your dirty night with Cole,” Declan says and he cocks his right brow.

  “A night I don’t remember,” I say, just as Cole walks into the room.

  “Seriously?” Cole says and he sounds insulted. “Bud, that’s not cool,” he says to Declan.

  “What?” Declan says and shrugs his shoulders. “Girls always remember me.”

  I eye the pizza box. “Do you have extra pizza? I’m starved.”

  “Go for it,” Cole says. “I have another one on the way.”

  I take a slice of the pepperoni pizza and as my teeth meet cheese and pepperoni I salivate. “This is so good.”

  I sit back on the couch and eat another two pieces. “I’m paying for this pizza.”

  “Would you stop that, Donovan?” Cole says.

  I tell Cole that Blossom is going to hook up Paris with an apartment. “Okay, whatever,” he says. “Your suitcases are upstairs. Up to you if you unpack or not.”

  Declan finishes eating and says he’s going out. He mumbles something about the guys from the team but I don’t hear what.

  “Aren’t you going too?” I ask Cole.

  “Nah, I’ll hang out here,” he says, and he places both his feet on the coffee table.

  “You know I’m a big girl. I can stay home alone,” I say mockingly.

  “I haven’t really been in a party mood lately,” Cole admits.

  “Why’s that?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. Wolfe was on my case in the Cape about getting my shit together, and he was right. He usually is. This year is the most important year for me on the team. I need to keep my GPA and show Coach I can be a serious player too. I can’t show up to practices with alcohol still in my system and give it all I have. If I don’t make it to draft this year, it means I go to work for my dad after graduation and after having lots of time to think over the summer, it’s the last thing I want.”

  “That’s commendable,” I say. “You’re a really good player. I’ve seen you on the ice. But you’re right about the partying. It won’t help you career-wise.”

  “Look at us, Donovan,” he says. “Having these serious conversations. Maybe we should discuss why you don’t remember our night together.”

  I choke on my own saliva. “Hell no.”

  “Don’t be such a prude. There’s a reason you blocked it out,” he chuckles, but on a different level I can tell this really bothers him.

  “I didn’t block it out. I drank too much and blacked out,” I clarify, bringing my knees up to my chest on the couch.

  “Then maybe we need to jog your memory,” Cole says, and oh how a night with Cole Davis sounds amazing, but not with my life up in the air. And where would it lead? I’m clearly starting to like Cole as a human being, plus I’ve always been attracted to him physically. That’s a lethal combination for my heart.

  “Don’t go there, Davis,” I say. “My life is complicated as it is.”

  “Fine, fine.” He waves his hands up in surrender. “Did you find out about financial aid?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s too late and won’t cover enough. Payment is due second week of classes, so I’m basically praying for that scholarship to come through with your dad’s company or a miracle,” I say.

  “About the scholarship,” Cole says, and by his dreary tone I know the news is not what I want to hear. “They already chose the candidates. I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I appreciate you trying.”

  “There has to be another way,” Cole says.

  “My housekeeper, Mary, is checking to see if my car is in my name. If it is maybe I can sell it and use the cash. And Mary seems to think my mom set up a trust fund or something in her will for me and Paris, but we don’t know how to find the info,” I say.

  “I honestly wouldn’t know. My mom was a partner in a law firm. I own her part as a silent partner. I can ask one of the lawyers for you,” Cole offers.

  “I didn’t know she was a lawyer,” I say.

  “Yeah, I mean she didn’t really work much. When she was younger, she built up her law firm but then she brought in younger lawyers to deal with things and just paid them. Before she got sick, she spent a lot of time working with my dad doing all kinds of philanthropic work,” he says.

  “It sounds like she was pretty amazing,” I say.

  “She was,” he agrees, and I know that wistful tone filled with a mix of loss and love. It’s heartbreaking.

  I get up and take a seat beside him and he watches me warily until I reach one arm over his shoulder and hug him. He leans his head over and I lean my head in to his and we just sit like that in silence for I’m not sure how long, but sharing in the pain with him like that somehow feels not so lonely.

  His cell rings, interrupting the moment, and he reaches into his pocket. I see the name Granny Mae on the screen.

  I move to get up but he takes my arm. “Stay.” Then he answers the call. “Hi, Granny Mae.”

  I don’t hear what she says but Cole says, “I have Holland staying here with me. I’ve got you on speaker.” He presses the speaker button on his phone.

  “Hi,” I say awkwardly.

  “Hi, Holland. Nice to meet you,” she says and I love her Southern accent.

  “You too,” I say shyly.

  “What are you two up to tonight?” she asks.

  “We just ate pizza,” Cole says. “Holland will be staying here now. In Wolfe’s old room.”

  “Really,” Granny Mae answers curiously.

  “It’s short term,” I say. “Your grandson was nice enough to put me up. My sister came to town and so I gave up my room at my friend’s house for her.”

  “Well, my grandson was raised a gentleman,” she says.

  “Thanks, Granny Mae,” Cole says.

  “Are you getting yourself ready for school?” Granny Mae asks him.

  “I’m signed up for all my classes and ordered my books,” he replies.

  “Glad to hear it,” Granny Mae says and then it sounds like she pauses. “Your father called me.”

  “Of course he did,” Cole says.

  “Maybe you should take me off speaker phone, Cole. It isn’t nice to air the family’s dirty laundry in front of a guest.”

  “The guest already knows about my poor relationship with my father,” Cole says.

  “Does she now?” Granny Mae says with intrigue in her tone. “Okay, then. He was hoping you would come home for a meal before the school year starts.”

  “For what? So Amber can catch me when he isn’t around and dig her claws into me?” Cole says with a bite that I’m not used to hearing from him.

  “Why don’t you take Holland with you then?” Granny Ma
e suggests. “That way you won’t be alone. I know you used to take Wolfe home with you for the holidays. Your dad would more than happily oblige your lady friend,” she says and that Southern accent of hers shines through. I love hearing it. Mom had lost most of her accent but sometimes, in certain situations, it would come through and Granny Mae reminds me of that.

  Cole looks at me. “You interested in accompanying me home, Holland?”

  I can’t say no to Cole, not after everything he’s done for me today. “I can tag along.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Granny Mae says through the phone. “I’ll call your father and set something up for next week. Unless you want to call him yourself.”

  “I’m good,” Cole says. “Set it up for the middle of the week. I don’t want to be spending a Friday night there.”

  “Will do. Now you take care.”

  “You too,” Cole responds.

  “Nice to meet you, Holland,” Granny Mae says.

  “Nice to meet you too,” I say to her because it was nice. I only met my own grandparents when I was small, and I barely remember them. My grandma died when I was around five and my grandpa must have died when I was maybe ten. They had Mama late in life and Mama was older when she had Paris and me. I spent more time with Dad’s parents in Nantucket over summers.

  Cole ends the call and looks directly at me. “Looks like it’s a date, Donovan.”

  “I guess so, Davis,” I say, just because he used my last name. In reality my stomach is flipping because, how did this happen? First, I move in to Cole’s house. I just met his grandmother and now I’m going to meet his father. This is so wrong because the more time I spend with Cole the more I like him, and it’s the last thing on earth I need.

  Seventeen

  Cole

  “Donovan,” I shout from the main floor.

  “Man, where you off too?” Dec asks, referring to the fact that I am wearing a button-down shirt, even though it’s untucked and rolled at the sleeves. I never dress so formal but dinner at my father’s house is usually a formal event. Meaning we eat at the dining room table ten feet away from one another and have a waitstaff serve us our catered meal.

  “My father’s house,” I say to Dec.

  “And you’re taking Holland with you?” He cocks a brow.

  “As a buffer, yes,” I explain, just for clarification.

  “Right the handsy wife,” he says and cringes. “So you and the brunette are really just friends?”

  “Don’t go there, Dec,” I warn.

  “Why the hell not? I don’t even recognize you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “You’re acting all serious and being all responsible. Don’t tell me that little Miss Future Doctor hasn’t had an impact on you,” Dec says.

  “Since when are you so aware of the details of my life?” I ask him, considering he spent most of last year drunk off his ass.

  “I’ve got eyes. That’s all I’m saying.”

  He isn’t wrong. I’ve been thinking about it since before I left for Cape Cod last month. Holland is amazing. Not only did she save my life but the girl has her shit together. She’s whip smart, beautiful, the whole package, and I’m seeing her. Sure I’ve got more than friendship on my mind, but Holland isn’t up for what I have to offer and I respect that.

  “Tonight is about one friend helping another out. That’s all,” I say to clarify whatever it is Dec thinks he sees. “Since you’re talking, do you mind telling me what the fuck has been up with you?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugs. “Just working shit out.”

  “Does it have to do with your parents?”

  “Not really,” he replies. “If and when I am ready to talk about it, I’ll let you know,” he says and smacks me in the shoulder before heading out to the kitchen.

  Holland comes down the staircase and my breath hitches. Her brown hair runs in soft curls down her shoulders. Her lips are shiny and luscious and my eyes skate down her body as I take in the little white sweater she is wearing, which fits her like a glove. Even if it has long sleeves. My eyes trail lower to that little plaid skirt she’s wearing. She looks like a sexy school girl. I adjust my dick as I take her in, willing myself not to get a fuckin’ boner. Damn, this girl is hot.

  “Ready. Sorry it took so long,” she apologizes.

  “You look. . .hot,” I say.

  She smiles and we head out to my car.

  The drive home takes a good hour. And Holland’s phone pings.

  She looks at it and hisses.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “My housekeeper just messaged me. Said that my car is in my name,” she says.

  “So what are you thinking?” I ask, looking out to the road.

  “That I need to go get my car and put it up for sale,” she shares. “I checked it out online and it’s worth well over sixty-five grand,” she says.

  I hiss, “Nice.”

  “Give me a break. Your car is probably worth more,” she says.

  “You have a point.” I shrug. “What do you plan to do? Steal it off his driveway?”

  “Is it stealing if the car is mine?” she asks.

  “Didn’t he buy it for you?” I ask.

  “Not sure how he paid. My mom had a big life insurance policy,” she says.

  “And wouldn’t you and Paris be beneficiaries then?” I ask.

  “I never asked these questions. Never inquired. He always gave us what we needed until he didn’t. Is it bad that I want to take the car and sell it?”

  “Probably not. It’s your car but how will you get the keys?”

  “Mary, my housekeeper,” she says and we reach a red light so I look over at her and watch as she worries her lip. “If Dad finds out she helped me. He’ll fire her. She needs the job. Where will she find something else that pays so well? She’s older now.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “If I can’t get the car, I can’t pay for my year at school. Westfall is just over forty-five grand. With the money I have left over from the car I can cover living expenses and still work and help Paris,” she explains.

  She is so selfless and compassionate.

  “No wonder you got burned out. You do too much for everyone,” I say and she yawns.

  “Excuse me,” she says. “Not sure why I’m so tired.”

  “You’ve had a stressful week,” I remind her. “How’s Paris doing?” Last I heard she got a job at the diner, but the apartment above it wasn’t going to be available until the middle of next month.

  “She’s settling in. I was hoping we’d find her a place to live sooner but everything around here is pricey because of the student housing. It drives up rent,” she says. I feel bad about her sister not finding a place, but I don’t feel bad about having her live with us. It feels like Cape Cod all over again. We cook meals together and talk. She even joins in on my calls with Granny Mae, who asks her all kinds of intrusive questions. Yet, Holland doesn’t mind. I think she actually enjoys talking to my grandmother.

  “Well, I’m not complaining.” I grin and side-eye her just as we pull into my father’s property. I wonder if I am so taken with her because she barely gives me a second glance, but I know that isn’t it. I’m taken with her because she is fucking awesome. I press the code for the gate and we drive up to the front door.

  “We should have a signal if you want to leave,” I tell her as we wait for the door to be answered.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she smiles thinking I am probably joking.

  My father’s butler answers the door. “Mr. Davis.”

  “My father is Mr. Davis,” I reply. “Just call me Cole and this is Holland.”

  I put my hand on the small of her back and guide her in as the butler leads the way to my father, who awaits with Amber in the living room.

  “Cole, you made it,” my dad says, sounding surprised and possibly relieved. “And this must be your friend, Holland.”

  Granny Mae
did her due diligence in updating him on my life.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Davis,” Holland says.

  “This is my wife, Amber,” my father introduces.

  I nod to Amber and Holland walks over to shake her hand. Amber is all done up with lots of makeup. Her blonde hair looks full and poufy and she’s wearing a ridiculously tight blue dress that shows off her cleavage and stops mid-thigh. Looking at her causes nausea to form in my gut.

  “Nice to meet you, Holland. What an interesting name,” Amber says.

  “Yeah, my parents honeymooned in Europe and Holland and Paris were my mom’s favorites so she named me and my sister after those cities,” Holland explains.

  “What an interesting story,” Amber says dryly, and then she turns her vulture eyes on me. “Hi, Cole. So glad you could make it home.”

  I give her a nod.

  “Can I offer you a refreshment?” my father asks.

  Truth is I am hoping to eat and get out. This bullshit small talk is exactly that.

  “I’m okay,” Holland replies.

  “Me too,” I say to my father.

  He cocks a brow. “Really? You don’t want a drink?”

  “No,” I answer curtly and I can’t blame him for the jab. When hockey was off season, or I didn’t have a game to worry about in high school, I was going through Dad’s liquor cabinets and my friends and I were getting wasted.

  “I see,” my father says and he looks between Holland and me curiously.

  “So what is your major, Holland?” my father asks.

  “I’m going into third year pre-med at Westfall,” Holland responds.

  My father can’t hide that he’s impressed. “Did Cole tell you that Davis Enterprises runs the Catherine Davis Memorial Scholarship every year?” Dad asks and I squeeze my fist tight and try to take a breath. “We created it in honor of Cole’s mom. We pay full tuition for two students every year.”

  I grit my jaw so tight I think it may snap. “Holland applied. I spoke to your secretary. I know you usually take first-year students, but Holland is an exemplary student. I tried to get through to you but you never returned my call, then your secretary told me the winners were chosen.”

  Holland side-eyes me.