Sidelined Love: A Hockey Romance (The Crestwood University Series Book 1)
Sidelined Love: Chapter 8

Amonstrous yawn escapes my lips, one I’m pretty sure is long enough to set a world record. The urge to turn over and go back to sleep is strong. I rub the sleep away from my eyes as I roll out of bed.

Am I tired? No, but my energy only gets kickstarted after I’ve thrown some water on my face.

Living alone has its perks. Not being woken up by a roommate for one. Another perk? Being able to leave your apartment in any state you desire. While I usually do my best to maintain some sort of order in here, I’ve been slacking off this week. For now, the messiness has to wait until after I’ve met my basic needs for the day.

I stretch as I step over my shit strewn on the floor in order to get to the bathroom. I flick on the light and squint against the brightness. My dark brown hair is sticking up at odd angles and another yawn falls out of my mouth.

With a heavy sigh, I turn on the showerhead and wait for the water to warm up. When it reaches the temperature I like, I take off the only thing I wore to sleep last night, my boxers, and toss them in the direction of my laundry basket. I make a mental note to do laundry today before I run out of clean underwear.

As I step under the spray, I let the warm water start working its magic, washing away the grogginess from sleep. I rest my arm against the coolness of the tile and close my eyes. I slow my breathing down as I try to relax under the water droplets, and the longer I stand here, the more I start to feel human.

When I open them again, I reach for my soap and begin to wash myself, each movement boosting my alertness. Within seconds, I have enough energy to power the sun.

As I replay Hailey’s words, it forces an image of her into my mind, but let’s be honest, she’s not too far from my thoughts since the moment I first saw her.

Did I think she was beautiful? That is an understatement. I knew she was gorgeous the moment I laid eyes on her even though I was half-asleep. But the way she has no issue with trading fire with fire draws me into her as well. She challenges me under the guise of not being able to stand me, but I’ve seen hints of a smile playing on her lips when she thinks I don’t see it.

I run my hand through my hair just before it makes its way down to my morning wood. I give myself a few light strokes, feeling the slickness from the soap and water coating my fingers. It feels nice but I know it won’t be enough.

When I can’t resist any longer, I give in to pleasure. Letting out a soft moan, I grip myself a little tighter. I move up and down as I think about her face and how I want to make those hazel eyes of hers roll into the back of her head.

I close my eyes as my hips start to rock forward, moving in sync with the motion of my hand. All I can picture is her naked in this shower with water cascading down her body as I take her against the wall after my mouth has its fill of her pussy.

The image alone has me ready to explode, but I force myself to slow down before it’s all over. This fantasy can’t end too soon, because right now, it’s all I have. I think about her nails digging into my back as she moans out my name…

“Fuck,” I growl, unable to stop myself any longer. My cock shoots out cum all over the shower tiles, and I’m left breathless. I lean against the wall, panting heavily while letting the water wash away the evidence of my masturbation session. I can’t remember the last time I’ve done that.

Leaning against the cool tile, I close my eyes and try to catch my breath. After a moment, I push myself from the wall, removing the haze from what just happened from my brain. I finish up my shower, scrubbing away the last of the soap and the tiles that ended up being on the receiving end of my load. I turn off the water and reach for my towel.

Wrapping it around my waist, I step out onto the bathmat. As I wipe the fog off the mirror with my hand, I catch my reflection, but I barely see myself. Despite my orgasm, Hailey’s image is still in my mind, almost taunting in a way. I shake my head, as if physically trying to rid myself of the distraction she’s become, but I’m lying to myself.

I make my way back into the bedroom and I start by tossing aside piles of clothes—some clean, some that will end up in the laundry basket that was already overflowing—until I find a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and a t-shirt.

I put my clothes on and walk straight for the kitchen. I grab a glass to pour my orange juice in and open the fridge. I decide on a quick breakfast sandwich, with the plan to find something else to eat if that isn’t filling enough.

After I get the eggs sizzling in the pan and the bacon is cooking in the oven, my phone makes a sound, alerting me that I’ve received a text message. Although the urge to pick up my phone is there, I decide to finish cooking my breakfast sandwich first before checking it. There’s a chance I might get distracted, and burning my food or my apartment down isn’t exactly in the cards for today.

During the time I’m preparing breakfast, my ringtone plays several more times. The only reason I don’t think it is an emergency is because whoever it is didn’t try to call me too.

Once I proudly assemble my sandwich, the golden egg yolk sitting perfectly atop the crispy bacon and cheese in between a bagel, I finally give in to my curiosity. I wipe my hands on a paper towel and grab my phone from where I’d plugged it in the night before in my living room. I sit down on my couch and watch as my phone’s screen lights up with a barrage of notifications, but it’s the texts from Wilder to our hockey group chat that force me to raise an eyebrow.

Group Chat: Ice Kings

Wilder: Hey, Cap! You up yet?

Wilder: You can’t still be sleeping now. You’re wasting daylight.

There is an assortment of emoji included with the text messages and I shake my head.

Knox: There’s nothing wrong with sleeping in, especially on a Saturday. Stop blowing up our phones.

Wilder: Then mute me, dude.

Knox: Don’t tempt me with a good time.

Asher: I just want to know what all of this is about.

Wilder: Guess who I bumped into this morning?

Knox: Our campus is huge. It could be anyone.

Wilder: Fine, I’ll put you out of your misery. Hailey, the barista from Brewed Beginnings.

I briefly see red. How the hell did he end up with her?

Blaise: Wait, isn’t that the girl Asher said Levi’s been low-key obsessing over?

I swear that is the most words I’ve ever seen Blaise type in one of our chats. It is time to put an end to my silence.

Me: Obsessing? Seriously, Blaise?

Blaise: Don’t shoot the messenger.

Asher: Told you he has it bad. How did this all happen?

Wilder: Apparently, she’s besties with Jade, and they were doing this scavenger hunt thing around campus. Got to spend some time chatting with her.

I wait for him to continue typing or for anyone else to send a message, but no one does. I know what they are waiting for me to do, and I hate that I’m about to give into it, but I want to know.

Me: Well… what did she say?

Wilder: I knew you would want to know. She was chill and we talked mostly about the hunt, but I did find out she is the current president of Crestwood’s chess club.

Chess? That’s interesting. I take a bite of my sandwich and wonder what I can do with that information.

I’m no stranger to the world of chess. My grandfather taught me how to play when Caleb and I were children, but it’s been quite a while since I have played. Hockey consumes the majority of my time and doesn’t leave much room for anything else.

Wait a minute.

I stand from my couch, suddenly motivated by this trip down memory lane. I step over the laundry that I’ve yet to pick up and go back into my bedroom. I dig through the top drawer of my dresser, where I toss things I can’t bring myself to throw away but have no immediate use for. My hand finds the item I want—an old, slightly faded photograph of a much younger me and Caleb sitting at a wooden chessboard. Our eyes are focused on the board in front of us as our grandfather is standing to my right, pointing at one of the pieces. We all look happy.

A wave of nostalgia causes a smile to form on my face. I can’t believe I forgot about this moment until now. While I don’t remember everything about that day, I remember being proud of myself as I was catching onto the rules and how you have to move some of the pieces.

I go back into the living room and place the picture on the coffee table before picking up my phone once more. A couple of text messages are waiting for me.

Knox: So now we know what Levi’s going to be doing for the next hour. Trying to find out when and where the chess club meets.

Asher: Yep. He’s probably at his place right now trying to plan his future chess matches right this second.

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Me: Funny, assholes. Let’s not act like I can’t see the things you’re writing about me, okay?

Wilder: And here I was, just about to start on the chess puns. Don’t ruin our fun.

I chuckle and silence my phone. The teasing isn’t bothering me, and I know there is more where that came from, but I now want to enjoy my food in peace.

I take another bite of my sandwich and my gaze lands on the economics textbook that I need to open.

There’s an entire chapter on Keynesian multipliers that I need to read by Monday. Because nothing says relaxing weekend or peace like economic theory.

This isn’t to say that I don’t like economics. I do, and it’s one of the foundations I need to study in order to complete my business major. Given that it is the weekend, and we don’t have a game or practice today, today is the perfect day to catch up on everything else I’ve neglected.

But my mind is still about as far away from econ or cleaning as it can get. Because the only thing my thoughts want to do is figure out a way that I get to know Hailey better.

And that way might just be through chess.

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