Chapter 7 Chapter Seven
Danny POV
It was cold outside but I barely felt anything as I walked out of Vanessa’s apartment. All that was left was some strange, restless energy humming beneath my skin.
It wasn’t triumph— I wasn’t arrogant enough to mistake it for that. If anything, it was closer to relief.
Relief that she hadn’t slammed the door in my face–that she’d looked at me long enough to argue instead of pretending I didn’t exist like she had for the last three years.
I wasn't sure which one it was but at the very least I knew, I was glad that she’d agreed to this stunt—anything—that kept her within reach.
I got into the car and started driving,grabbing my phone and was immediately flooded with a dozen messages from my teammates– just as I expected the news I was dating her had gone around.
By morning it would be all over the campus, which meant that Vanessa would not be in a very good mood. My phone buzzed again and when I opened it I sighed in frustration.
Training had been moved up by an hour so I was already late.
I got to the school parking lot and parked my car. It was some expensive model that my father had gotten me after my first championship so I always parked it in a special spot because I couldn't trust the people on campus.
I walked down the stairs two at a time,a gym bag slung over my shoulder as I replayed the conversation with Vanessa in my head despite myself.
No feelings.
No sex.
Public-only affection.
The project comes first.
I huffed out a breath as I pushed through the building’s side door that led to the empty field we used for practice.
Vanessa had delivered the rules like a lawyer drafting a contract, chin lifted, her eyes sharp scanning for any fault. Keeping her voice steady even when her hands betrayed the tension.
Vanessa Williams had changed a great deal.
She was no longer the shy, soft woman I knew, and she was serious with her boundaries.
I had been a bit desperate so I'd agreed and that part unsettled me too because I had never been good with rules that weren't hockey related.
With hockey I was in my safe space, I followed drills, respected the strategy and honored discipline on the ice—but when it came to emotions, I tended to bulldoze through them or bury them under the weight of my expectations.
Agreeing to boundaries that demanded emotional distance felt like skating backward into traffic.
Still, I’d done it.
Because she was worth the slight discomfort and letting me to talk to her—really talk—felt like winning a small but meaningful victory.
At least now, she wasn’t running from me at every turn so that counted for something. The rink was already alive when I arrived.
The familiar smell of ice, sweat, and sharpened steel hit me the moment I stepped inside, grounding me in a way nothing else ever quite did. The arena lights glared down over them, harsh and unforgiving, illuminating the chaos of bodies moving in sync.
Hockey was simple that way.
You showed up. You worked hard. You earned your place.
People didn’t pretend. They couldn’t hide what they were or if they had the skills they boasted of.
I was glad for the bit of peace this game would afford me though. I dropped my bag near the locker and started pulling on my gear, my mind still stubbornly circling back to Vanessa.
She’d looked good standing there in my doorway, wrapped in one of my oversized sweaters, her curls falling wildly over her face making her eyes look even more guarded.
Girlfriend.
The word felt strange, especially after so long. They weren’t really dating.
I knew that and Vanessa knew that.
But no one else would and some small, selfish part of me liked that.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” a voice drawled behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Ethan leaning against the lockers, helmet tucked under his arm, grin sharp with amusement.
One of the Booker twins hovered nearby— I didn’t bother checking which one. They blurred together more often than not with how similar they looked.
It was almost eerie.
“Morning to you too,” I said, sliding my skates on.
Ethan’s eyes danced.
“Heard you were busy last night.”
I didn’t rise to the bait.
“Practice starts in ten.”
“That’s not a denial.” one of the Booker twins– Jamie maybe drawled
I smirked despite myself.
“Have you always been this invested in my schedule?”
Ethan chuckled.
“Only when it involves rumors of a mysterious girlfriend”
I straightened.
“What rumors?”
“Oh, come on.” Ethan leaned closer.
“The boys told me about your little tryst with the ice queen. You can’t walk in the rink late and expect us not to talk.”
I tied my laces with deliberate care.
“She’s not ‘Ice queen.’”
Ethan raised his brows.
“Touchy.”
“Fine, yes. She’s my girlfriend.” I huffed and Ethan’s grin widened.
“There it is.”
Before I could respond, the other Booker twins—Dylan,wandered over, phone already in hand.
“Speaking of girlfriends,” Dylan said casually, scrolling.
“Your girl just sent you something ”
I froze.
“What?”
“ What the hell are you doing with my phone?” I huffed, moving in my half-drawn gear to grab it and Dylan’s grin turned mischievous.
“Relax. It’s cute.”
“Give me my phone,” I snapped, standing.
Too late.
Dylan cleared his throat dramatically.
“Attention, hockey degenerates–a message from the Cap’s girl.”
Laughter rippled through the locker room.
I lunged, but the twin darted backward, voice rising.
“‘Good morning. We'll be working closely this semester for the academic project. These are the materials I need you to study and we'll meet on Tuesday” I mumbled and silence followed.
Then—
“Damn,” someone muttered.
“Bold,” another said.
Ethan laughed outright.
“Your girlfriend’s very authoritative” I huffed as I ripped the phone from Dylan’s hand, my heart pounding–that had been a close call. If she had sent something other than this their ruse would have been discovered.
“ Ha ha, laugh it up and get back to work” I muttered.
Coach Ramirez’s whistle cut through the noise before anyone could say anything else.
“On the ice,” I barked.
“Now.”
I shoved my phone into my locker and headed toward the rink, mind racing.
Vanessa sending me a message was a good sign. It was her way of reclaiming control—but doing so, she’d made my job infinitely easier.
It puts them on a regular form of communication now. I grinned while skating on the ice.
Practice was brutal.
Coach pushed them harder than usual, drills stacking on drills, but they all understood it. They had a game with the UCLA Giants and they needed to be on their ‘A’ game against this sun baked twinks.
But exhaustion was setting in, especially since they had just played against Denver a few days ago.
I threw myself into it, skating until my legs burned, slamming pucks into the net with a ferocity that drew approving nods from the coaching staff.
I needed the distraction.
After practice, I lingered longer than usual, cooling down on the bench while the others filtered out.
Marco plopped down beside him, towel draped around his neck.
“So,” he said casually.
“You gonna tell me how that happened?”
I wiped sweat from my face.
“What?”
“You. Vanessa Williams.” Marco smirked, though it looked forced.
“You know she has a long standing reputation as the girl who looks like she’d stab someone with a pen before dating a hockey player.”
I snorted.
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure.”
“It’s… complicated.”
Marco sobered slightly.
“Everything with you is complicated.”
I glanced at him.
“That’s not a fair assessment.”
He shrugged.
“Isn’t it?” I didn’t respond because he wasn’t wrong even if he didn't know the real reason why.
My life had been complicated from the moment I’d been born into money, and my father's legacy. I might have loved hockey but it paled under the weight of my father's expectation.
If Glover Snr. could have won championship by age twenty five, then his son could not perform less. Every move he made was scrutinized and the relationship reduced to speculation. His last name had become like a heavy shackle over his head.
Then he met Vanessa three years ago and I didn’t seem to care about any of that, at first that terrified me but then I had learned to live with it, had come to enjoy it before I had ruined it all by myself.
My phone buzzed in my hand and before I could stop myself from checking it.
Vanessa.
A single message.
You didn't reply to my message. We should meet later to go over the project outline.
Simple and straight to the point, she definitely meant business. I stared at the screen longer than necessary.
Sure, Library? I typed back but there was no response.
I smiled.
Rules.
I pocketed my phone and stood, slinging my bag over shoulder. Outside the rink, the sun had dipped lower into the clouds casting long shadows across the parking lot.
I apped at my pockets twice, there were rules to follow.
I could try being good at rules.