The Hockey Roommate's Filthy Desire novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

JULIAN’S POV

I didn’t mean to look for her. I just knew she’d gone quiet. Too quiet.

The apartment had that strange stillness that settles after a storm, the kind where the air feels heavy but deceptively calm. Practice had drained me physically, but it was her silence that kept my mind alert.

I found her in the living room.

She was sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, legs folded loosely beneath her. The lamp beside her cast a soft amber glow over the room.

And in her hands- A photo. I knew that photo.

I hadn’t seen it in years, but I recognized it instantly.

Her parents were standing behind her at the beach, wind tangling her hair, her smile wide and unguarded. She couldn’t have been older than twelve.

Before..Before hospitals. Before funerals. Before everything fractured. She didn’t notice me at first.

Her thumb traced the edge of the frame like she was memorizing it again.

“Hey,” I said quietly.

She startled slightly, then quickly tried to compose herself. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I can leave if you want.” Normally, I would have.

Normally, I would have given her space and pretended I hadn’t seen anything. But tonight felt different.

She shook her head. “No. It’s fine.” I walked over slowly and sat down beside her, not too close. Close enough.

“You still keep that one,” I said, nodding toward the picture.

Her lips curved faintly. “It’s favorite.”

my

Silence stretched between us, not awkward. Just careful. “How’ve you been coping?” I asked. The question felt heavier than it sounded. She didn’t look at me.

“With what?”

“With them being gone.” Her hand stilled on the frame. For a second, I thought she’d shut down. Pull away. Build that wall she wore so effortlessly.

Instead, she inhaled slowly.

“Some days are okay,” she admitted. “Some days I forget for a few hours. Then something small happens and it feels like I’m losing them all over again.”

Her voice didn’t break..That almost made it worse. “I’m sorry,” I said.

She gave a small shrug. “You didn’t do anything.”

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Chapter 8

“I wasn’t there.”

That made her look at me. Her brows knit slightly. “Julian-”

“I should’ve been.” I continued, the words coming steadier than I felt. “When it happened. After. I should’ve been here.” Her expression softened in confusion. “You were in Switzerland.”

“Boarding school,” I corrected quietly. “Dad thought it was ‘strategic‘ International exposure. Discipline.” My jaw tightened. “I didn’t get back until months later.”

I remembered the phone call. Her aunt’s voice was shaking. The funeral was already over. By the time I saw her again, she’d already learned how to look strong.

“I tried calling,” I said. “You didn’t answer.”

She stared at the photo. “I couldn’t talk to anyone.”

I nodded once. That made sense. “I hated that I wasn’t here,” I added, softer now. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” she said automatically. But her eyes said something else. The lamp hummed faintly.

I let myself lean back against the couch beside her.

“Do you remember the time your dad tried to teach us how to fish?” I asked.

Her lips twitched despite herself. “You mean when you fell into the lake?”

“He pushed me.”

“He did not.”

“He absolutely did.” She laughed, a real one this time. Small. But real.

“He said you were ‘too polished‘ and needed character building,” she said, mimicking her father’s tone. I smiled at the memory..Her dad liked me. Said I was too serious for a twelve–year–old.

Said I needed to loosen up. He was right..” You used to follow Luca everywhere,” I said before I could stop myself.

Her smile dimmed slightly. “We were kids.”

“I know.” But I remembered it clearly..Her running across the quad to catch up to him..Laughing at everything he said. Choosing him in every game, every argument, every side.

I was used to being the second option..The practical one. The safe one. Today, in that parking lot, that was the first time I’d

chest. ever felt chosen by her. The first time she’d grabbed me instead. The thought sat heavy in my

“Julian?” Her voice snapped me back.

I blinked. “Yeah?”

“You’re staring”

I exhaled faintly. “Sorry.”

She looked down at the photo again. “I didn’t plan that,” she said suddenly.

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Chapter 8

“The kiss?” She nodded. “I know.”

She hesitated, then finally met my eyes. “I’m sorry if

that put you in a weird position. I just… I didn’t want him talking to me like that anymore.” I wanted to tell her it wasn’t a problem.

That it had been the opposite of a problem. That I’d replayed it more times than I’d admit. But that would make me sound unhinged. Or worse, opportunistic.

So I gave her a small, controlled smile. “It’s no big deal,” I said evenly. Her shoulders relaxed slightly.

And then her phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession.

Her brow furrowed as she picked it up. The color drained from her face. “What?” I asked, my body already alert.

“It’s Luca.” My jaw tightened instinctively. She swallowed. “He’s drunk.” Another buzz. Then another. Her screen lit up repeatedly.

Luca: I’m outside.

Luca; We need to talk.

Luca: You don’t get to replace me like that.

My vision went cold. “Is he actually outside?” I asked, my tone calm but stripped of warmth. She stood slowly and walked toward the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek.

Her shoulders stiffened. “He’s by the entrance.”

Of course he was. Another message came through.

Luca: Come down. Please.

My voice hardened before I could soften it. “You’re not leaving this apartment.”

She turned toward me, torn. “Julian…”

“He’s drunk,” I said. “And emotional. That combination doesn’t deserve access to you.”

“He won’t leave.”

“He can stay there all night,” I replied flatly. “I don’t care.”

Her fingers hovered over the screen. “He’s not thinking clearly,” she whispered.

“Exactly.” Silence filled the room. I could see the conflict in her eyes. History versus self–preservation. Comfort versus chaos.

“Aria,” I said, stepping closer but not touching her, “if you walk down there right now, you’re rewarding this.” She closed her eyes briefly. Another buzz.

Luca: Don’t ignore me.

Her thumb finally moved. She typed slowly. Carefully. Then hit send. She showed me the screen without a word.

Aria: Go home, Laica. We’ll talk when you’re sober.

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Chapter 8

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Three dots appeared immediately. Then disappeared. Then nothing. We both stood there listening to the silence outside like it might explode at any second.

After a long minute, she exhaled shakily. “I hate this.”

“I know.” She leaned back against the wall, tension still written across her body..I moved to the window this time, looking down discreetly..Luca was still there.

Pacing. Running a hand through his hair. But he wasn’t coming up. Good. “Come sit,” I said quietly. She hesitated, then walked back to the couch. This time, when I sat beside her, I didn’t leave space between us. Not enough to overwhelm.

Just enough to anchor. She didn’t move away. Outside, Luca could rage at the night for all I cared.

Inside, she stayed.

And for now, that was enough.

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