Saved By Love (Bellevue Bullies 7)

four

Callie

Bellevue is known throughout the NCAA for its team houses. Our teams are strong because of the bond we are forced to form by being together. We are required to work out our issues, whether it be petty boy drama or someone drank someone else’s almond milk—it makes us communicate. I think it’s smart to do it this way. We love like family. And let me say, I grew up an only child, and after a year with these chicks, I know why God did it that way.

These chicks are loud. For no fucking reason.

Not that it matters; I’m happy here. Really happy. I love my team, I love the campus, and I love my classes. I miss my family, but I’m doing big things. I also love that we have a house just like the other teams on campus. Our house was built and ready my first year, thanks to Sofia Justice. She’s an alumnus who did all four years here and holds so many records for being the best of the best. Her scores carried this team to the championship. We haven’t won it yet, but it’s coming. With Sofia being from here, it showed how amazing our program is. And now other schools see we’re a talented group of strong women.

It’s gonna be an awesome season, and I am stoked for all the possibilities. My goal is to be an all-arounder, which means I’ll compete in all four events. I also want to score a perfect ten on beam this year. I got one on bars and floor last year, and while I want one on vault, I can’t break a 9.9. It’s frustrating because I think it’s my wonky toe. I broke it, and that sucker doesn’t flex. I tried to tape it once, but then my score went down because I felt off.

We tease my toe. “It’s a tenth short” is what we say.

I lean on the banister of my outdoor porch, grinning as the guys’ hockey team runs through the quad. I love my room because of this porch. It’s on the ground floor, and I like to sit out here to drink my coffee as I ogle boys. Not that I would ever admit to the ogling, but I’m known for my coffee. I drink an ungodly amount for a teenager. I blame my sister, though. It’s how we stayed up late nights, making bread and cutting meats. If we’d had guys like the Bellevue Bullies’ hockey team to ogle, though, I doubt we’d have needed the coffee to keep us up at night.

I’m pretty sure when Nico dropped me off at college, he pointed right to the guys’ house and demanded I stay away. He even gave me a map of all the boys teams’ houses and told me they were off-limits. Protective isn’t even the word I’d use to describe his antics. It’s so bad that when new guys would come in to play for the IceCats, Nico wouldn’t give any of them a place to stay because, of course, they’d take my virtue. I joked that by then, my virtue was long gone. He didn’t take that well, so we don’t talk about it at all.

When he asks what I do in my spare time? I drink coffee, do gymnastics, and study, like a good little girl. I sure as hell don’t ogle boys. Eh, who am I kidding? I am a good girl. I don’t go to parties much, and I don’t really do anything but what I already said. I do tutor a lot, for the money, and I volunteer at the autism center here on campus. It’s a great program for college students to get volunteer hours by working in the autism field. I work there more than I should, but I love it. I love the kids, and they love me.

I lean into the banister, watching the boys’ shorts ride up their toned, strong thighs as their abs flex and relax with each stride of their run. Cheese and rice, these boys are gorgeous, and thankfully, they love running by our house. Cameron White, my roommate, leans beside me, clucking her tongue. “We may have to make a hockey game this year, Cal.”

I laugh. “We may, my friend. We may.”

When one of the guys winks at us, we both giggle as the guys then all flash us grins. “How many of those grins do you think are fake?”

I scoff. “None of them. They have to play with cages until they get into the AHL, so they still have all their teeth.”

At this point, Cameron is no longer impressed by my endless knowledge of hockey. Maybe a little last year, but this year, she expects me to be a know-it-all. Her blond hair is up in a messy, crooked bun as her brown eyes move along all the boys, and a little grin sits on her lips. “Well damn, that was my opening line,” she says with a wink, and I laugh. She uses people’s teeth for all her pickup lines. She’s here for her predentistry schooling before going off to big-girl dental school, with the end goal of becoming an oral surgeon. She told me on our first day of practice that she has been obsessed with teeth ever since she knocked most of hers out when she came down doing a double back on floor, hitting her mouth on her knees. Scared the living shit out of me since I’ve never done that, and that even made me change my pass from a double back to a double layout. Harder skill, but at least nothing is coming for my teeth.

I love Cameron, even if she is a bit kooky. I wouldn’t say we’re besties, but we’re close, and we have each other’s backs. I think she thinks we’re best friends, but no one can replace Aviva. No one. She’s the first person I text when I wake up and the last at night. I freak out, I call her. She is my person. My everything. I think Cameron knows that, though, and doesn’t expect much out of me. I mean, she knows me. But she doesn’t know, know me. She doesn’t know that Aviva almost died from cancer or that my dad is a drunk. She knows I don’t have a mom, but I don’t go into detail like you would with a best friend. Our relationship is very superficial, but it’s that way with everyone I know. I don’t really open up easily.

I almost did last year, though. Tommy Mavrich, he is a junior and a swimmer for the Bullies. Super hot, super funny, and a super-fun hookup. We dated for most of my freshman year, and I almost let him in, almost showed him all the trauma that has messed me up just enough to be really funny. But then he slept with a girl who swam for the girls’ team. She didn’t know about me and she apologized, but it wasn’t her fault. Hell, it may not have been Tommy’s.

I’m just really glad I didn’t tell him anything important. Plus, he didn’t like Vance. He said he wasn’t a baby person. But come on! Vance is the cutest baby ever! Oh, and Tommy didn’t like animals. Like, any animals. I should have known he was a dick.

Within seconds, though, Tommy is the last thing on my mind when I see the guy bringing up the rear of the hockey team. I’ve been watching these boys on all of their training camp runs, and I can pretty much describe tattoos and nipples at this point—but nothing, and I mean nothing, prepares me for who is running toward me.

“Good gravy, who is that? And thank you, Lord, thank you, for making shorts that short.”

Cameron is not wrong. Everything about him is strong. I can’t see his eyes or nose since his hat is so low. But that jaw. Whoa, talk about chiseled. He isn’t as defined as the other guys, but it’s just enough to make my mouth water. His thighs barely fit in the shorts he wears, and with each stride, I catch a peek of his stomach. His shoulders are wide, abundant with muscles. The shirt he wears is basically useless since it’s drenched with sweat, and across his chest, I can read a name.

Adler.

Holy. Fuck.

Before I can even process who I’m looking at, Cameron hollers out, “Hey, girls! Come check out the new hockey guy!”

Of course, the girls come running, but he pays us no mind. I don’t know if he heard us, but then, he is running to stay with the group and not flirt with us. His loss, of course, and mine. Then I notice the back of his shirt. RA, resident adviser. “He is their adviser,” I mutter, my jaw hanging open at the sight of him. I remember the first time I saw Evan and his twin brother, Owen. They had come to stay with us since the captain of the IceCats had just had a baby, but the moment they walked in and I set eyes on them, Nico was convinced I was going to give my body to both of them.

I mean, I’d be down. But I don’t think Owen and Evan share.

Such a shame, really.

“He can advise me any day,” Shantae Miller, a junior, says, and we all laugh.