The Hockey Captain Wants His Plus-Size Ex Back Chapter 04
I stayed on campus for the summer.
When I told my mother, she only said, “That’s fine. Your stepdad and I are taking your brother to Florida anyway.”
Then she hung up.
In my last life, that kind of indifference would have sent me running back to Cole. I had thought he was the only person in the world who still wanted me.
Now I knew better.
Easton never said he was staying for me.
But every morning, when I reached the North Athletic Annex, he was there.
At first, he only corrected my jumps. Then he corrected my running form, my landings, my stretches, and the way I tried to skip breakfast after a hard workout.
One morning, he took the black coffee out of my hand and replaced it with a breakfast sandwich.
“I’m trying to lose weight,” I said.
“You’re trying to get stronger,” he replied.
That was Easton.
Cold face. Few words. Always right where I needed him.
So I trained.
I did not post photos. I did not go to parties. I did not walk through campus looking for someone to notice me. I kept my head down, tied my hair up, and spent the summer in the gym, on the mat, and on the track.
My body changed quietly.
My old clothes grew loose. My steps became lighter. My breathing became steadier. The mirror stopped feeling like an enemy.
But almost no one saw the full change.
Most students were gone for the summer. The few who stayed only caught pieces of me in oversized hoodies, baseball caps, and workout clothes dark with sweat. If they stared, I ignored them.
Easton noticed everything.
“You’re landing cleaner,” he said one afternoon.
“That’s praise.”
“It’s a fact.”
I smiled anyway.
By the last week of summer, I could run my whole routine without stopping.
On the final day of training, Easton stood beside the blue mat and said, “From the top.”
My hands were damp. My heart was beating hard, not from fear this time, but from excitement.
The music started.
I moved.
Cartwheel. Roundoff. Back handspring. Toe touch. Turn. Jump sequence.
For once, my body did not feel like something I had to fight. It answered me. It remembered. It lifted when I asked it to lift and landed when I asked it to land.
When the music stopped, I stood still for one second.
Then I laughed.
I laughed so hard my eyes burned.
Before I knew what I was doing, I ran straight at Easton and threw my arms around his neck.
“I did it,” I said. “Easton, I did it.”
He caught me by the waist.
His hands were firm. His body was warm from training. I realized too late how close we were.
My laughter faded.
Easton looked down at me.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he kissed me.
It was not like Cole’s kisses.
Cole had always kissed like he was taking something he already owned.
Easton kissed like he had been holding back for too long and was still afraid one wrong move would make me leave.
I held on to him.
He pulled back first, breathing unevenly.
“Mia,” he said, voice rough. “If this is still about Cole—”
“It isn’t.”
His eyes searched mine.
I said it again. “It isn’t about him.”
This time, he believed me.
That was how Easton Vale became my boyfriend.
No announcement. No crowd. No performance.
Just the two of us in an empty gym, my arms around his neck, his forehead resting against mine.
When school started again, Cole finally panicked.
He had not heard from me all summer. I had not texted, called, liked his posts, brought him food, washed his clothes, or waited outside practice.
At first, he thought I was acting.
Then he thought I was being stubborn.
By move-in week, he started looking for me.
He went to my old dorm. I had changed rooms. He asked around the dining hall. No one knew where I was. He called from different numbers. I blocked each one.
That night, I was in Easton’s room.
More exactly, I was on Easton’s bed, wearing his jersey.
It fell loose over me, soft from too many washes, and smelled like clean laundry and him. I had just showered after practice. My hair was still damp, and Easton kept looking at me from his desk like he wanted to say something and had decided silence was safer.
“Cole comes back tonight?” I asked.
“Probably.”
“Should I leave?”
His gaze dropped to the jersey, then quickly returned to my face.
“No.”
I smiled and pulled the blanket over my legs.
A minute later, the door opened.
Cole walked in, already angry.
“I swear to God, Mia is losing her mind,” he said before he even looked up. “She’s been ignoring me all summer. Her room’s empty, her phone’s dead to me, and nobody knows where she is. Who does she think she is?”
Easton stood up.
I pulled the blanket higher.
Cole dropped his bag by the door. “You seen her?”
“No,” Easton said.
The lie came out flat and clean.
Cole scoffed. “Of course not. She’s probably hiding somewhere waiting for me to chase her. She always does this. Acts hurt, makes everyone pity her, then comes crawling back.”
Easton’s face cooled. “Maybe she won’t.”
Cole looked at him. “What?”
“Maybe she’s done.”
Cole laughed. “With me? Mia?” He shook his head. “You don’t know her like I do.”
“I know enough.”
Something in Easton’s tone made Cole’s eyes narrow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means stop talking about her like she belongs to you.”
Cole’s face changed.
For a second, I thought he might swing.
Easton clearly thought so too, because he stepped closer.
The room went tight.
Then Cole noticed the shape under the blanket.
His gaze shifted past Easton.
“Wait.” His voice changed. “You have someone here?”
Easton did not answer.
Cole’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Damn. Easton Vale finally brought a girl back?”
I stayed very still.
Cole took one step closer.
Easton moved in front of him.
“Leave,” Easton said.
Cole lifted both hands. “Relax. I’m not trying to meet your secret girlfriend.”
But his eyes stayed on the bed.
For one strange second, our gazes almost met in the dim light.
His smile faded a little.
“She looks…” Cole frowned.
Then he laughed at himself.
“Never mind. For a second I thought—no. Impossible.”
Cole grabbed his jacket. “Whatever. I’ll give you privacy.”
At the door, he looked back at Easton.
“If you see Mia, tell her I’m done playing games.”
Easton’s voice was cold. “Tell her yourself. If she answers.”
Cole slammed the door behind him.
The room stayed quiet.
Then Easton turned around.
I pushed the blanket down. “He almost recognized me.”
Easton’s jaw tightened. “He doesn’t deserve to.”
There it was.
The jealousy he tried so hard to hide. Not loud. Not ugly. Just a shadow in his eyes, like part of him still expected me to get up and follow Cole.
I sat up on his bed.
“Easton.”
He didn’t move.
“I’m not going back to him.”
For a long moment, Easton only looked at me.
Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
It was jealous, restrained, and a little desperate.
I held his face and kissed him back until the tension in his shoulders finally eased.
When he lifted his head, his voice was low against my ear.
“You know, there are better ways to train cardio than running.”
My face went hot. “Easton.”
“What?” His mouth brushed my neck. “I’m your coach.”
I laughed, but the sound broke when he kissed me again, deeper this time, until I was breathless beneath him.
“Easton,” I whispered, fingers tightening in his shirt. “We’re going to get your bed wet.”
His eyes darkened.
For a second, he only looked at me.
Then his hand slid to my waist, steady and possessive, and his voice dropped even lower.
“Then we’ll change the sheets.”
My heart stumbled.
His mouth hovered over mine.
“As many times as we need.”
After that night, rumors spread fast.
Easton Vale had a girlfriend.
No one knew who she was.
People only caught pieces: a girl in his jersey, dark hair under a cap, bare legs on the back of his motorcycle, a laugh disappearing around a corner.
“She’s hot,” someone said in the dining hall.
“Like, really hot.”
“You think Cole could get her number?”
Cole sat across from them, barely listening.
He was scrolling through his phone again.
I knew what he was looking for.
Me.
He still thought my silence was anger. He still thought anger meant love. He still believed Vanessa was temporary and I would come back once he got tired of her.
Then the cheer captain tryout list went up.
By noon, half the campus had seen it.
Vanessa Blake.
Three returning cheerleaders.
Two freshmen.
And at the very bottom:
Mia Hart.
The hallway went quiet for three seconds.
Then someone burst out laughing.
“The two-hundred-pound Mia Hart?”
“She’s running for cheer captain?”
Cole stood in front of the list for a long time.
Then his face went dark.