Page 32 of Play Maker

His hazel eyes were bright under the dim lighting, and for some reason, I struggled to look away.

“Personally, I don’t feel like arguing. I mean, if you want to that’s fine, but it’s Monday. Isn’t that bad enough?” I replied with a resigned sigh.

“Long day?” Jace asked, opting for a safer topic of discussion.

I nodded. “Aren’t they all?”

“Truth,” Jace replied. “I haven’t seen you hanging around the lounge in the dorm, and only once or twice at Ethan’s parties. What do you do outside of class and hockey?”

“There’s life outside of hockey?”

“Funny. Come on, spill.”

I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t been joking.

“At least tell me what you’re studying,” Jace continued.

“I’m an economics major. It’s boring as fuck, but hey, I’m sure the degree will be useful. For what, I don’t know. Unfortunately, school isn’t my thing, much to the disappointment of my parents. I’m all about hockey. And I don’t really hang out with people here other than the parties.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged.

“It’s been kind of strange transferring after my freshman year at Langston,” I admitted. “Everyone here except me went through first year together, and because of that, they’re already friends and I?—”

What was I doing? Why was I telling Jace all this? I sounded like a sad loner. Which I was, but Jace didn’t need to know that.

“I can’t believe I told you that,” I hissed and looked away, embarrassed.

“Speaking of friends, we need to talk about Preston,” Jace suddenly announced.

Just like that, my hackles went up, and my embarrassment turned to anger.

“Don’t even start,” I snarled. “I know how you treated him, and I don’t need to hear your excuses. I won’t hesitate to walk out of here.”

“And risk your place on the team if Coach finds out you reneged on this fundraiser?”

I bit my lower lip. Shit. There was no way I could just get up and walk away.

Jace knew it and I knew it.

Phoenix stalked back up to our booth with a cautious smile and set down two plates, along with our drinks. The burgers and fries looked, and smelled, amazing. Too bad I wasn’t hungry anymore.

When Phoenix left us alone again, Jace leaned forward, his gaze holding mine. I recognized the look of intense determination on his face, just like he was about to lean into his slapshot.

“I have an eating disorder,” he whispered.

What? I wasn’t hearing correctly.

“Excuse me?”

He swallowed hard and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“I said, I have an eating disorder. Bulimia.” He glanced down at his plate and back up at me. “It started during high school when I was seeing Preston.”

“Look, I don’t know what kind of weird head game you’re playing with me right now, but?—”

“Not a game. Not this. Never this. It’s the truth.”

---