All Chapters of Stuck between Hockey Player and his Quarterback Brother: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chloe Kensington sat two tables ahead of me. She was wearing a designer silk blouse and was currently filing her nails. She had failed the tension-bridge critique spectacularly by attempting to build a suspension bridge entirely out of hot glue and balsa wood.Chloe turned around, offering me a bright, unapologetically vacant smile. "Hi, partner! I'm so bad at the math part, so you can totally take the lead on that.""Great," I muttered, my stomach completely bottoming out. I was already working thirty hours a week at the coffee shop to afford my rent. Now I was going to have to do the work of two people just to maintain my scholarship grade.Julian leaned over, his smug smile returning in full force."Looks like you're carrying dead weight, Tamine," Julian whispered, his voice dripping with venomous delight. "Let's see if that working-class grit can save you from failing the midterm."I ignored him, pulling my phone out of my pocket under the desk.Still nothing. The screen was compl

Tamine’s POVSunday night. 10:14 PM.I was sitting cross-legged on my dorm room floor, completely surrounded by crumpled balls of tracing paper, half-finished economic impact spreadsheets, and three empty espresso cups. My eyes were burning, raw and bloodshot from staring at my laptop screen.I wasn't looking at the screen anymore. I was staring at my phone, resting on the edge of my mattress.Coach Kavanagh had said 10:00 PM. It was fourteen minutes past.Ring.The screen lit up so suddenly I physically jumped, my knee knocking over a stack of architectural scales. I snatched the phone off the mattress, my thumb hitting the green icon before the first ring could even finish.I pressed it to my ear, my chest heaving, absolutely terrified to speak in case it was a wrong number."Sunshine."His voice was a rough, exhausted rasp, but it was him. It was Evans.I closed my eyes, a massive, jagged breath shuddering out of my lungs. The invisible bands of pressure that had been slowly crushi

I looked into his green eyes, completely entirely tethered to my promise. No Thorpe money. If I told him, he would blow up his life in Boston to save mine in Chicago. He would fight his father, he would lose his focus on the ice, and Kavanagh would destroy his draft ranking.I couldn't let Richard Thorpe destroy us both."The midterm is great," I lied, my voice steady, my smile completely fixed. "Chloe is a bit of a handful, but the structural design is solid. And my dorm is fine. Everything is fine, Evans."Evans stared at me through the screen for a long, heavy second. His brow furrowed slightly. He was exhausted, but his instincts were still razor-sharp."You look pale, Tamine," he noted gently. "Are you sleeping? You aren't pulling all-nighters at that coffee shop, are you?""Just a few late shifts," I deflected quickly. "You know how architecture programs are. Sleep is a myth. But I'm okay. I promise.""Okay," Evans breathed, though he didn't look entirely convinced. "Just... don

Tamine’s POVFriday. 5:00 PM.The deadline.I stood in the entryway of my dorm building. My heavy canvas bag was slung over my shoulder. In my right hand, I held my plastic university ID card.The rain from earlier in the week had cleared, leaving behind a bitter, biting cold that signaled the true beginning of the Chicago winter.I took a deep breath, my hand shaking violently, and pressed my ID card against the black security scanner next to the heavy glass doors.Beep-beep.The light flashed red.The heavy magnetic lock didn't click. The door didn't open.My heart completely stopped. I stared at the red light, a cold, absolute terror seizing my lungs."No," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Please."I pressed the card against the scanner again, rubbing it frantically against my jeans first.Beep-beep. Red light.They had done it. The financial aid office had officially processed the eviction. My keycard was deactivated. All of my clothes, my textbooks, and my drafting supplies for t

I didn't run to the dorm. I walked. I walked through the freezing morning air, my hand clenched tightly around the metal card in my pocket. Atlas had done it. He had taken his billionaire father's invisible, suffocating cage and smashed it with a single swipe.I reached my dorm building. I pulled my plastic keycard out, my heart stuttering against my ribs as I pressed it against the black scanner.Beep.The light flashed a brilliant, beautiful green.The heavy magnetic lock clicked open.I pushed through the door, walked up to the third floor, and let myself into my tiny, cramped room. It looked exactly as I had left it. My drafting supplies, my clean clothes, my narrow twin bed.I locked the door behind me, slid down the wood until I hit the floor, and finally let myself cry. They were ugly, exhausted, violently relieved tears. I had survived the siege.An hour later, after a scalding hot shower and a change of clothes, I walked into the architecture studio.The room was buzzing with