Heart As Cold As Ice | 18+ | ✓

21: alondra

Yeah. Break my rules about no fraternizing with hockey players for the freaking captain of the hockey team. I'm an idiot. I should have sent Jack and his stupid dimples away the second he asked for a kiss.

But no.

I'm the stupid idiot who took pity on him and now I'm the even stupider idiot who's fucking falling for the guy who's quickly become one of my best friends.

Yeah.

I never should have made an exception for him.

Peyton was right. This is only going to end badly with someone getting hurt. I think I agree with her that it's going to be me.

I shove my hands deeper into the pockets of my parka. Winter's shown it's face early this year with a record breaking snow storm and I'm so fucking over it already. Not only do I like to torture myself by spending more time with Jack than without him, I also like to look at the weather in Fort Worth where it's sunny and sixties.

My furry hood is blocking out most of the swirling snow, but I whole heartedly believe that classes should have been cancelled today. Who the hell wants to walk around in the snow to attend a boring calculus class.

The sour mood I'm in only furthers when I shake all the snow off my coat inside before going into the auditorium to see that Jack isn't there. I shoot him a quick text asking where he is because if I'm in class with a blizzard outside, then he can show up too.

The stupid prick doesn't respond until class is already over saying he's sick.

Me being me, I don't exactly believe him. He can be kind of dramatic. But after catching a ride to their house with Coop after his class is over, I realize that Jack really isn't being dramatic.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" I ask, hovering in the doorway.

He's wrapped up tightly in blankets and I can still see him shivering from here. "Fine. Just a little cold. I'll be fine tomorrow." Jack's voice is different from his usual cocky self because of how stuffed up he is.

"You have a game in four days and it's not just any game. It's the first game of the season." I point out and he groans loudly.

"I'm aware. I tried to practice today but Coach sent me home saying I looked like shit. We're hoping it's just a twenty-four hour thing."

I shake my head because there's no way just laying in bed all day is how he's going to get over this. I feel bad seeing Jack look like this. I march into his bathroom and I move the towel off the floor before starting to run the hot water to fill the tub.

"Al, what are you doing?" He croaks, staggering behind me as I use some of his cinnamon body wash to fill the water with some bubbles.

"Running you a bath. The steam and warm water will help."

He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair and my stomach clenches. Even sick he still looks good. "I'm not laying in filthy water. I'm fine."

"Do you want to play Saturday or not?" I ask him.

Jack's crystal eyes are heavy-laden in exhaustion and he slumps against the doorframe. "Fine."

He pulls his shirt off and my eyes go straight to his mouthwatering core. There's no way that I've been laying on those when I stay here. But this little show confirms that what I saw last week wasn't a figment of my imagination. Pull yourself together, I scold myself, tearing my gaze away to the still filling tub. It's rude to stare.

Jack leaves his underwear on as he slips into the steaming water and I smother a giggle because he's almost too big that he doesn't fit. He closes his eyes as he leans against the tile, "You should probably go. I don't want to get you sick."