Book 1 in the Colliding Series
One Dream, Two Ambitions
Katherine Mitchell has grown up around
hockey, with her father being a hockey
legend, James Mitchell. it was a given
Katherine would grow up to play
professional hockey. Katherine transfer...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When I walk in I find Rohan taking things out. "What'chu makin?" I ask going over to the coffee machine.
Rohan looks over his shoulder to me, "Creamy Tuscan Chicken." He says.
I lean against the counter while sipping my coffee. "Where did you learn to cook?"
"My grandma." Is all he says.
"You know you can talk to me, have a conversation, I won't bite." I take a slow sip of coffee. Looking at the height difference between us, he's fucking tall, well taller than me. I'm a whapping 5'6 and he's about 6'4, so I actually have to look up at him.
He's wearing some grey sweatpants and a dark green tee. A basic comfy outfit for him.
"I know."
I roll my eyes, "You can't hate me forever." I mutter.
Were silent for a couple seconds, I'm about to leave when Rohan speaks, "Did you get drafted by The Boston Prides?"
I'm shocked for a second but I recover quickly, "Mhm, last game. A scout offered me a contract." I turn so I'm facing him.
He looks over at me, "You didn't accept?"
He looks...shocked?
"Nope, it's still early so I'm going to wait till there are more offers." I take a sip of coffee as Rohan starts to prep the chicken.
"Isn't Boston the team the one you've been thinking about since you were little?" He asks while putting things in the skillet, followed by the chicken. My eyebrows go up, he listened when I said that?
"Yeah but doesn't mean it's my only option, I'm just considering all of them." I look at what he's doing, and whatever he's doing is confusing me. The chicken is sizzling that's all I know.
He look over at my silence and probably the confused face I'm making, "Have you really never cooked?"
My mouth gapes, "I have, I'm just not good." I protest, and mumble the last part.
Rohan eyes me for a second, the corners of his lip going up, "Come over here and cut the tomatoes." He places another cutting board with the tomatoes and knife on top, closer to me.
My eyes widen, "You want me to help you cook?" I ask, bewildered. Is he serious?
Rohan chuckles, "I'm going to teach you how to cook, so come over here and chop them up, 1/2 cups of them." He raises an eyebrow.
I groan as I put down the mug and go over to the cutting board. I grab all my hair and place it in a top knot, "What if I, like, cut myself." I say picking up the knife and swaying it around.
"Stop that before you actually do cut yourself." He demand, in which I respond by swaying it around more. "Kitty, stop that before you get hurt." He warns, voice harder.
