Falling for the hot alpha hockey star

Skylar's POV

I had been here before for high school competitions, but this was different. Today wasn't about winning a trophy. It was about me taking a step my parents would never forgive me for.

Medicine. Not politics. Not the carefully groomed path they'd planned for me since birth. Not the speeches, galas, or mind-numbing dinners with people who spoke in veiled threats and fake smiles.

I clutched the admission envelope in my hand as though it might evaporate if I loosened my grip. Around me, other incoming students buzzed with nervous excitement, laughing with friends, taking selfies under the tall banner that read WELCOME, FUTURE SCHOLARS.

I didn't feel like a future scholar. I felt like a traitor to my own bloodline.

Mom would call it rebellion. Dad would call it stupidity.

Both of them would be right in their own way.

I moved toward the administration building, my sneakers crunching over the gravel path. Every step felt heavier because last night's memories wouldn't leave me alone Liam's smug face when I'd caught him with that girl, his arm draped over her bare shoulders like it belonged there. The way he'd smirked when I demanded an explanation. The way he'd compared me - again - to someone else, as if I was always just a shadow failing to measure up.

The bitterness sat in my chest like a lump of iron.

I focused on the receptionist's instructions as she handed me a form to sign. "You'll need to go to the second floor for the medical faculty clearance. Room 2B, then bring this back for processing."

I nodded, muttered a thank-you, and turned toward the staircase. Students bustled everywhere, some in groups, others alone, the hallways echoing with chatter and footsteps. My head was down as I rounded the corner and that was my first mistake.

My shoulder slammed into something solid. Something solid... and annoyingly warm.

"Watch it," a deep voice said.

I looked up, blinking. The man - no, guy, maybe mid-twenties - stood there with a stack of folders in one hand and a faint scowl on his face. He had dark hair pushed back messily, and eyes that somehow managed to look both cold and amused.

"You watch it," I snapped before I could stop myself.

He raised an eyebrow, as if he wasn't used to people talking back to him. "You were the one walking like the hallway belongs to you."

"It was you who wasn't paying attention," I shot back, brushing my shoulder where we'd collided. "Maybe try looking up from whatever arrogant thoughts you're having."

That earned me a short laugh, low and sharp. "Arrogant thoughts? That's new. Most people just say I'm intimidating."

"Well, congratulations," I said, pushing past him, "you've upgraded to irritating."

I should've kept walking. I wanted to keep walking. But of course, fate or the devil had other plans.

"Wait." His voice followed me, and I hated that it made me slow down. "You're new here?"

I turned halfway, glaring. "What, you work for campus security now?"

"No," he said, smirking faintly, "but you're holding an admission form like it's a life raft, so I'm guessing you're one of the fresh ones."

I rolled my eyes. "And you're one of the what? Self-appointed orientation guides?"

He stepped closer, close enough for me to catch the faint scent of cedar and something darker not cologne, exactly, but it clung to him like it belonged. "I'm just someone who knows this place better than you," he said. "And trust me, walking around like you've already got a grudge against the world is a good way to get noticed."

"I don't care about being noticed," I said flatly.

His smirk deepened. "Liar."

That word hit me harder than it should have. Because maybe, once upon a time, I had wanted to be noticed - by Liam, by my parents, by someone. But now? Now I just wanted to be left alone.

"You don't know me," I said, stepping back.

"Not yet," he replied, as if the idea of knowing me was some kind of challenge.

That was when someone brushed past me in the hallway, accidentally knocking the envelope out of my hands. The admission letter slipped to the floor. He bent down before I could, picking it up in one smooth motion. His eyes flicked over the words.

"Medicine?" he asked.

I snatched it back. "None of your business."

Something in his expression shifted - not respect, but maybe curiosity. "You don't look like the type."

"Oh, really? And what type do I look like?"

He didn't answer right away. He just studied me for a beat too long, his gaze lingering like he was trying to figure me out. Finally, he said, "The type who's here for reasons you're not talking about."

That... was uncomfortably accurate.

I tightened my grip on the envelope. "You've got a real talent for annoying strangers. Does it work as well when you're not blocking hallways?"

His lips twitched into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Guess we'll find out."

I turned on my heel before he could say more, making my way toward Room 2B. My pulse was faster than it should've been, and I hated that.

Inside, the room was packed with other students waiting for their turn to be seen. I tried to focus on the paperwork, on the reality that I was here despite my parents' disapproval. But my mind kept circling back to that stranger in the hallway - his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at me like he could see through every wall I'd built.

I didn't even know his name.

And I already hoped I wouldn't see him again.

Which meant, of course, that I probably would.