Chapter: 1
Melody James
I shouldn’t still be watching Cole Beckett Swift play hockey.
Yet here I am, stretched out on my couch, eyes glued to the screen as his team skates through another preseason game. It doesn’t even matter that I barely understand what’s happening. I’m hockey illiterate—completely, hopelessly.
And somehow… it still became my life.
I huff out a quiet laugh, shaking my head.
It all started with a stupid cup of coffee.
One clumsy moment. One spill straight down the front of Cole Beckett Swift’s chest.
Fate really looked at me that day and said, let’s make this messy.
From then on, he was just… there. Always in my orbit. Easy, constant, impossible to ignore.
I told myself I didn’t mind.
Told myself being his friend was enough.
But then I made the mistake of telling my sister, Lauren.
And suddenly she was everywhere.
Every hangout. Every conversation. Every glance that I used to think might mean something.
She flirted. He noticed.
And eventually… he gave in.
So I stepped back. I had to.
Or at least I tried to.
Because no matter how much distance I put between us, Cole always pulled me back in—like it was nothing. Like I was just part of his world.
And maybe I was.
The problem?
The closer I stayed… the harder I fell.
I don’t even realize I’ve been zoning out until the front door swings open.
“God, it’s dead in here.” Lauren’s voice cuts through the quiet as she walks in like she owns the place—I mean she lives here part time. I barely glance away from the TV.
“You’re watching hockey?” she adds, like it personally offends her. Which always pisses me off because her boyfriend is a professional player.
“Don’t start,” I mutter, shifting on the couch.
A second later, I look over—and yeah.
She’s dressed up.
Not casual. Not “I’m running out for five minutes.” No, this is full effort. Hair done. Outfit planned. The kind of look that makes my stomach twist before my brain can even catch up.
“Where are you going?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
Lauren shrugs, grabbing her bag. “Out.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Obviously. With who?”
She glances at me, just for a second. Too quick.
“With people.”
I narrow my eyes. “Lauren.”
She sighs like I’m the problem, checking herself in the mirror. “Cole’s in town. A few of them are going out.”
My gaze snaps back to the TV instantly.
Cole’s on the ice.
Right there. Skating. Live.
I frown, sitting up a little. “He’s literally playing right now.”
Lauren doesn’t even miss a beat. “Yeah. The game ends, Melody.”
Something about the way she says it—too easy, too casual—makes my chest tighten. Because he's away and he won't be home until late. So her going out now is a bit odd.
I look back at her slowly.
“And you already have plans with him?”
She shrugs again, but there’s something smug tucked into the corner of her mouth now. “We’ve been texting.”
That twist in my stomach?
Yeah. There it is.
Worse this time.
I press my lips together, forcing a nod like that doesn’t bother me. Like that doesn’t feel like something just shifted under my feet.
“Cool,” I say, eyes flicking back to the screen. “Have fun.”
She watches me for a second, like she’s waiting for something more. A reaction. A crack.
I don’t give her one.
“Don’t wait up,” she says finally, heading for the door.
The lock clicks behind her, leaving the apartment quiet again.
Too quiet.
I stare at the screen, watching Cole glide across the ice like nothing’s changed.
The apartment is too quiet after Lauren leaves.
I try to focus on the game, I really do—but my mind keeps circling back to her.
The way she avoided my questions.
The way she wouldn’t say who she was going out with.
I push off the couch, heading into the kitchen.
That’s when I see it. Her laptop. Still open on the counter.
The screen lights up just as I walk past, a notification flashing across it before it disappears.
TD: meet at our usual place
I stop cold.
My stomach drops.
TD.
It takes half a second for it to click.
Trevor Donovan.
I’ve heard the name before—too many times, in passing, in stories Lauren brushed off like they didn’t matter.
My chest tightens.
I grab my phone anyway, snapping a quick picture of the screen before it locks.
Just in case. Just in case I didn’t imagine it.
I look down at the photo, my stomach twisting.
This doesn’t feel like nothing.
“Our usual place.”
I stare at the screen, but the message is already gone.
Like it was never there.
My heart starts pounding.
No. No, there’s no way.
She’s with Cole. Why would she ruin that?
I tried to sit still. Tried to tell myself it didn't matter.
It didn't work.
My palms started to itch, the restless feeling crawling under my skin until I couldn't ignore it anymore. I grabbed my phone, pulling up his name
Cole.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
Do I text him?
If I do... it looks like I'm interfering. Like I'm trying to break them up
And I'm not —
I'm not that girl.
But at them same time... I don't want him to get hurt.
And the thought of him hurting?
It doesn't sit right with me.
I exhale sharply and type before I can overthink it anymore.
Melody: Hey.
It was simple. Safe.
I glance up at the tv. It's intermission.
Maybe he will answer.
My phone buzzes almost immediately.
Cole: Hey. You watching?
A soft laugh escaped my lips.
Of course that would be his first question.
Melody: Wait there is a game?
The three dots pop up instantly
Cole: Fuck you Mel. 😒
Cole: Seriously are you?
I shake my head, typing quickly.
Melody: Yes dummy. I always watch. I may not get it, but I'm watching.
A second later —
Cole: You know more than you realize. I love watching hockey with you. 😂
My chest tightens just a little at that.
Stupid.
I shouldn't let that affect me. But it does.
I glance back at the tv — players starting to move, refs skating into position.
He won't have long.
I type quickly.
Melody: You think so. lol.
Melody: Can we chat after you get home? Call me?
The message sends.
No reply.
I look back up at the screen — the game starting up again.
Yeah.
He's back on ice.
I set my phone down beside me, trying to focus, but my mind won't' settle.
I shift on the couch, arms crossing, then uncrossing.
This is a bad idea.
Or maybe not telling him would've been worse.
I don't know anymore.
I have my reasons, not all selfish.
The game ends, but I don’t really register how.
One minute I’m watching, the next the final buzzer sounds and I’m still sitting there, staring at the screen like I missed something important.
Maybe I did.
My phone buzzes some time later beside me and I grab it too quickly.
Cole.
Cole: We won.
I huff out a quiet laugh.
Melody: Wow. I had no idea. Truly shocking.
The reply takes a second longer this time.
Long enough that I picture it—him on the bus now, gear off, surrounded by the team, noise everywhere.
Cole: You’re hilarious. 🙄
I smile, curling slightly into the couch.
Melody: I try. You still like me.
Another pause.
Short.
Then—
Cole: Yeah, yeah. On the bus. I’m exhausted.
My chest softens a little at that.
I can see it too clearly—his head tipped back, eyes heavy, still coming down from the game.
Melody: Long day then?
A few seconds pass.
Cole: Yeah. And night.
Something about that sticks.
I glance down at my phone, thumb hovering.
This is where I say it.
Or where I don’t.
Melody: You still calling me when you get home?
The typing bubble appears.
Disappears.
Then comes back.
My stomach tightens just a little.
Cole: Yeah. I will.
Simple.
But not as quick as before.
Not as easy.
I press my lips together.
Melody: Okay.
I set my phone down for a second, then pick it right back up.
Because I can’t not.
Melody: Get some rest on the ride if you can.
This time the reply comes faster.
Cole: Trying. Guys won’t shut up.
A faint smile tugs at my lips.
That sounds more like him.
Normal.
Familiar.
Melody: Sounds about right.
A beat.
Then—
Cole: Talk soon, Mel.
My chest tightens again.
Not in a bad way.
Just…
in a way I’m starting to recognize more than I should.
Melody: Yeah. Talk soon.
The conversation ends there.
But the feeling doesn’t.
Sits heavy in my chest, refusing to settle no matter how many times I tell myself I'm overthinking this.
By the time my phone rings, my nerves are shot.
I let it ring once.
Twice.
Trying to steady my breathing before I answer.
"Hey."
"Hey Mel."
His voice rough. Tired. Like the night finally caught up to him
I sit up a little straighter. "You make it off bus?"
A yawn comes through the line. "Just walked off. Heading to my car."
I nod to myself, even though he cannot see it.
"Are you going home?"
There's a small beat.
Then he huffs out a quiet laugh. "Yes. Bed."
Relief hits me faster than I expect.
Too fast.
I let out a small laugh of my own. "Okay."
"So you are not meeting Lauren?"
The words come out softer than I meant them to.
Careful.
Like if I say the wrong thing, everything shifts.
On the other end, I hear him stop moving.
"Uh? No."
There is confusion in his voice now.
Real confusion.
"Why?"
My grip tightens on my phone.
"Because she told me she went out tonight with you." I say keep my tone even. "And she was acting weird before she left."
A solid, heavy pause.
Then I hear his footsteps start up again.
“What are you playing at?” His voice is sharper now.
My stomach drops. “I’m not— I’m not saying anything. I just thought you should know.”
“Mel.”
The way he says my name makes my chest tighten.
Frustration. Warning.
“You’re my friend,” I add, quieter now. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. I just… it felt off.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
“I don’t believe it.”
The words hit harder now. Sharper.
I blink, thrown. “Cole—”
But he doesn’t let me finish.
“Just leave it the fuck alone.”
It cuts straight through me.
Final.
Cold.
The line goes dead before I can say anything else.
