After spending an hour studying—or trying to while Chase took advantage of the otherwise empty room, doing his best to banter and play footsie with me—he walked me to class on the opposite side of campus.

We made our way across the quad with the wind gusting, a gloomy gray sky looming overhead. At least the rain had stopped. Usually, I loved fall, but the weather today was depressing, hinting of the winter to follow.

“Guess who called me the other day?” Chase said, taking a sip of his black coffee. His other hand was laced in mine, the heat of his skin warming it against the cold.

“Who?”

“The assistant GM for Los Angeles.”

“What?” I froze with my cup halfway to my mouth. “That’s huge. What did he want?”

“Checking in. How’s school coming, training and nutrition, how are my coaches, talk about game tapes, things scouts have noticed.”

Having been drafted before he started school, Chase was in the ideal situation for a college hockey player. A spot on the team was his to lose.

Conversely, Derek hadn’t been drafted. He still didn’t know who, if anyone, would pick him up after graduation. He might not know until well into next summer. And even then, it could be the NHL, AHL, or ECHL—or none of the above, which meant finding a regular job like everyone else. The last possibility scared him the most. He desperately wanted to play professionally after college.

“It’s early in the season for them to be reaching out, isn’t it?” I asked, my brow furrowed. I wasn’t as familiar with the ins and outs of the signing process as I was with other aspects of hockey.

“Kind of, yeah. I think they’re trying to feel me out.”

“For next year?” My heart stuttered. I wanted to say it was because I was happy for him, but my feelings weren’t quite that altruistic.

“Maybe.” Chase shrugged. “That or they know I’m trouble and they’re keeping tabs. Could be both.”

I laughed, but it died quickly. “Would you really leave school a year early? Without getting your degree?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded.

“This way.” Making a left, I pulled him toward the brick social sciences building. Guess I knew why he was so unmotivated when it came to school. He had no plans to stay long enough to graduate.

“You would leave? Just like that?”

“One hundred percent.”

I suddenly found myself winded. “That’s a big decision.”

“I know,” he said. “But I’ve given it lots of thought. If it came down to it, I would jump ship. I could always finish my degree later if I needed to.”

“Most people don’t end up going back, though.” Pretty hard to take the lifestyle hit that would entail.

“Probably not,” he admitted.

A million things flew through my mind, but I wasn’t sure it was my business.