The Hockey Roommate's Filthy Desire novel Chapter 10

ARIA’S POV

I should have taken the ring off before I went to sleep.

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That thought hit me the next morning as sunlight filtered through the floor–to–ceiling windows of Julian’s apartment, glinting off the silver band on my finger. It looked deliberate. Permanent.

I turned my hand slightly, watching the engraved V catch the light. Recognition, he’d said. Not ownership. The distinction felt thin.

Julian had left early for a team strategy meeting before classes, pressing a brief kiss to my temple like it was habit now. Like I was part of his routine.

“Stay in today,” he’d said quietly. “I’ll handle campus.”

Handle it. Like everything else. I was halfway through making coffee when the knock came. Not tentative. Not unsure. Three firm, controlled raps against the door.

My stomach tightened. Julian wasn’t due back for hours. I walked to the door slowly, smoothing my hair back out of reflex. When I opened it, the air in the hallway felt cooler.

Sharper. She stood there like she owned the building. Tall. Immaculately dressed. Dark coat tailored to perfection. Not a strand of hair out of place. Her heels didn’t scuff when she stepped forward, they announced.

Her eyes dropped briefly to my hand. To the ring. Then back to my face. “So,” she said smoothly, voice cultured and cold. “You’re the girl.”

I swallowed. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Elina Vance.” Of course she was. Julian’s mother didn’t need introduction. She wore power the way her son wore a jersey, naturally.

I stepped aside automatically. “Julian’s not here.”

“I know,” she replied, brushing past me without waiting for permission. The door clicked shut behind her. The apartment suddenly felt smaller.

She walked further inside, gaze assessing everything–the couch, the kitchen island, the second mug sitting near the sink. “You’ve made yourself comfortable,” she observed.

“It’s temporary,” I said carefully. Her lips curved faintly. “Is it?” I didn’t answer.

She turned then, fully facing me. Those eyes were the same as Julian’s, sharp, unreadable. But where he held heat beneath control, hers held calculation

without apology.

“My son is distracted,” she said plainly.

My spine stiffened. “By hockey?”

“By you.” The words landed with surgical precision.

“I don’t control his schedule,” I replied quietly.

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Chapter 10

“No,” she agreed. “But you influence it.” I felt the weight of that accusation settle between us.

“You’re living here,” she continued, glancing toward the hallway. “Wearing our name.”

“It’s just a ring.” I said before I could stop myself. Her gaze snapped back to my hand.

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“Nothing in this family is ‘just‘ anything.” Silence stretched. “I assume you’re aware of what this year means,” she went on. “The championship. The board. His father’s expectations.”

“I’m not involved in-”

“You are now.” That shut me up. She stepped closer–not aggressively, but with intention. “You’re on scholarship,” she said softly.

My stomach dropped. “Yes.”

“Full academic funding. Housing support contingent on performance and conduct.” Her tone remained almost conversational. “It would be unfortunate if accommodation complications led to administrative review,”

My pulse thundered in my ears. “Are you threatening me?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

She tilted her head slightly. “I’m protecting my son’s future.”

“And I’m a threat to that?”

“You’re a variable,” she corrected. The word hurt

more than it should have.

“I worked for my scholarship,” I said, heat rising in my chest. “I didn’t sleep my way into Westbridge.”

Her eyes sharpened–not offended. Assessing.

“Infatuation is expensive,” she said. “And Julian has always been… impulsive when he chooses something new.”

Something. Not someone. “Whatever this is,” she continued, gesturing faintly between us, “it ends after the championship. I suggest you prepare yourself for that reality.”

The door unlocked before I could respond. Julian stepped inside mid–sentence, loosening his tie.

He stopped when he saw her. Then his eyes moved to me. Took in the tension in my shoulders. The distance between us. The rigid set of her posture.

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“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was calm. Too calm.

“I came to see the disruption for myself,” his mother replied smoothly.

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly..“You don’t come into my apartment unannounced.”

“It’s still under our name,” she countered.

“It’s under mine,” he corrected. The shift in him was immediate. Subtle. But unmistakable. He moved without hesitation, stepping between us. Not touching me. Not looking back.

Just placing himself there. A wall. “She’s my guest,” he said evenly. “And my responsibility.” His mother’s gaze flicked past

him to me.

“You’ve always confused possession with protection,” she said quietly.

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“And you’ve always confused control with love,” he replied. The air went brittle.

“Julian,” I started softly, not wanting this to escalate.

He didn’t look at me.

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“She’s not a distraction,” he continued, eyes locked on his mother. “And her scholarship is not a bargaining chip.”

My heart skipped. “You presume influence where there is none,” Elina Vance said coolly.

“You implied it,” he shot back.

“And you’re overreacting.”

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m setting boundaries.” Something cracked across her expression–just for a second.

“You would jeopardize your position,” she asked slowly, “for this?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” The word felt like a detonation. Silence swallowed the room.

“If the board hears that your priorities have shifted-‘

“They won’t,” he cut in. “Because I win. That hasn’t changed.”

“And if you don’t?” His expression hardened into something unbreakable.

“I will.” It wasn’t arrogance. It was a promise. She studied him for a long moment. Then her gaze shifted to me again.

“This will cost you,” she said softly. I wasn’t sure if she meant him or me.

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