Chase was a top-notch grinder—one of the grittiest players on the Falcons, known for his physical gameplay. He made life hell for our defense, cleared bodies out of the way for snipers to score, and won puck battles more often than not. For someone who was a powerhouse on the ice, he was awfully lazy when it came to school. He was intelligent, that was obvious; he just needed to apply himself.

“Not gonna lie; it’s incredibly hard to give a fuck about any of this knowing it won’t matter down the road.”

“It matters now,” I said. “I thought you were on probation.”

“I am. Dicks.” Chase rolled his eyes.

“What if you need to finish your degree later? You never know. You could get injured or something.”

“If that happens, I’ll have bigger problems than the lack of a degree. I’m basically unemployable in any other capacity.” Chase raised his dark eyebrows. “Can you picture me wearing khakis and working in a cubicle, James?”

“No,” I admitted. It was so ill-suited to him that it was almost comical.

“And let’s face it,” he said. “I’m way too corruptible to be a cop. So, for the greater good of society, help me polish this turd of a paper and keep my grades up enough to stay on the team. I have to get signed. It’s that or homelessness for me. There is no in-between.”

I shifted, criss-crossing my legs. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a tad dramatic?”

“I prefer to think of it as having a zest for life.” His mouth tugged at the corners.

“You have something, that’s for sure.”

Chase got a gleam in his eyes that said he was definitely up to no good.

“You’re going to stay while I work on this, right?” He lowered his voice, a tactic he used, I realized, to get into my head…or maybe my pants. Yet, even knowing that, the voice totally worked. At least on the first part. Possibly a little of the second.

Maybe being in his bedroom wasn’t a good idea after all.

I raised an eyebrow, hiding all my inappropriate thoughts behind sarcasm. “You picked me up, so I’m not sure I have a choice.”

“That’s true.” He nodded. “Do any of us really have a choice? Or is free will merely an illusion?”

“I actually do have an exam to study for, so if you want company, there’s no need to get all philosophical on me. All you have to do is ask.”

I grabbed my textbook and binder and scooted back on the bed until I was sitting against the headboard. I wasn’t all that eager to spend time at my place, anyway. Lately, I felt like a stranger in my own home. Things were tense with Amelia and Jillian, and they were downright hostile when Paul was there, which was more often than not.