The Hockey Star’s Remorse by Riley Above Story

Chapter 41

My heart pounded in my chest as I stood face to face with Timothy. Confusion didn’t begin to express how I felt.

“What are you doing here?” I gasped, looking him up and down

The smile on Timothy’s face fell as he took a deep breath before answering, “I live here too. In fact, I’m the owner of all the property on this floor.”

My mind raced to connect the dots. Timothy lived here of all places? Sure, the place was nice, but I never would have guessed.

Then suddenly, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I was already aware that Aria and Timothy had orchestrated this entire setup. However, they had completely left out the part where it was Timothy that had cheapened the price.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice cracking.

Timothy looked at me with the utmost sincerity in his eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t have taken this chance if you’d known it was connected to me. I wanted to give you the freedom to make your own choices without feeling weird about it.”

His explanation left me feeling a whirlwind of emotions. I was caught between feeling gratitude and guilt, even if I had unknowingly fallen for his and Aria’s

scheme.

“It’s not much of a choice without knowing all the options,” I muttered. “You may not have lied, but you weren’t completely honest either.”

This seemed to draw him into silence at first, and he looked down at his shoes. My situation had been desperate enough not to think twice about the price drop. either. Perhaps this was my karma for not being more strategic, as if things. couldn’t get any worse.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I murmured, still trying to process it all.

“I wanted to,” Timothy replied, his gaze unwavering. “That apartment was doing. you guys any good, I heard.”

That sentence made me pause and look back at Aria, who was still swaying to the slow song on the stereo. I bit my lip, wondering if Aria had told Timothy about Bruce breaking in. Just the possibility of that made me more frustrated than

having Timothy as a neighbor.

“I promise not to disturb you though,” Timothy added. “I just want you to be comfortable.” Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

I sighed and tugged a strand of hair behind my ears, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever. We were going to have to see each other on a more consistent basis, but Timothy seemed determined to get me a new place to live. So much so that he was willing to go behind my back for it.

There wasn’t much I could do from here. Running back to our old place was out of the question, and Timothy seemed genuine enough. I also couldn’t shake the slight feeling of relief at seeing his face, especially after our depressing departure at the

restaurant.

“Did you want some cake?” I asked him, pointing my thumb behind me. “It’s vanilla flavored, if that’s your thing.”

The smile returned to Timothy’s face and he nodded. “Sure.”

I smiled back. “Just a second.”

As I walked to the kitchen counter and lifted the lid on the cake box, I saw Lucas waltz by with a bottle in hand. He approached Timothy and slung an arm around

his neck.

“Congratulations, man! You nailed it!” Lucas exclaimed. “How’s it feel to be a free

man?”

Timothy winced and turned his head away, probably smelling the alcohol in Lucas‘ breath. “Thanks.”

“Did you want to join?” asked Lucas. “We’ve got plenty of champagne to spare.

Cake too!”

I finished slicing a piece of cake and set it on a paper plate. Then I set down the knife and rushed over. Timothy was trying to detach himself from Lucas right as I placed myself between them and handed Timothy the plate.

“I don’t want to intrude on your fun,” Timothy said, sounding hesitant. He glanced at me, his expression unsure, and I wasn’t certain about my own answer. I don’t know if it was any fairer for me to stand there silently as Timothy waited for my

input.

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Eventually, he shook his head and stepped back through the doorframe, holding the plate close to his chest. He gave me a grateful smile, but still looked torn.

“It’s fine, really. I need to get some work done tonight anyway. Glad you’re enjoying the place though.”

My heart sank as he walked out the door, feeling guilty once again as I watched him retreat into his apartment. It could’ve been nice to have him stay, to share in the joy of our success together, but the weight of our relationship was overbearing.

tried to come to Timothy’s door and re–invite him.

“I take it you’re a fan?”

I flinch and turn around at the deep, playful voice behind me. I found myself being towered over by a man in a hockey uniform. He had fiery red hair that was familiar to any long- time hockey fan.

It was the club’s most famous hockey star, Alex.

I was stunned to be in the presence of yet another hockey star.

“Oh!” I shook my head and stepped away from him. “No, I’m not a fan. I mean… they’re good, but-”

Alex chuckled, his eyes tracing over my body suggestively. “You don’t need to explain yourself. Are you one of Timothy’s wives?”

“His wives?” My voice cracked over the words. “Heck, no!”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “I’m joking. Jeez, I guess that answers my next question. “He has this whole fanbase, but you’d think they were married to the guy with how dedicated they are to

him,” he said cheekily.

“Well, I’m not the type to fall into parasocial relationships,” I told Alex. “They seem very unpredictable, and I’m not exactly a Timothy fan. At least, not to the extent my friend is.”

Alex tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. He seemed to favor this

news.

“Good for you.” His eyes twinkled, like he’d discovered something fresh for the first time in a while. “I know there are some new clubs who want to invite

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him. That’s why I’m here.”

“Do you two talk a lot?” I asked. “I mean, I know you’re not on the same team, but-”

“Oh, we bump into each other from time to time,” said Alex. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he gave me a lop–sided smile. “Off the rink, that is.”

“That’s nice,” I said, watching as he slipped off his gloves and checked the time on his watch. He noticed me staring and chuckled a little.

“I don’t think I caught your name,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. Despite just coming out of the rink, he carried this light smell of cologne that was gentle and non–invasive. I found myself leaning close, intrigued by the scent.

“Uh,” I shook my head, brushing away the distraction. “It’s Evie.”

“Evie,” my name caressed his tongue as he said it aloud. “Beautiful.”

A raging blush rose to my cheeks, and I turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see. He merely chuckled at this, his gloved hand finding the wall beside my head. I kept my eyes low, still too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

“I think I heard about you, Evie. Timothy certainly talked about you with his pleasant little public apology,” he said.

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