Scoring Off The Ice (Ice Kings #2) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,2

while he’s gone which means my meager finances stretch a lot further. Plus, since it’s in Uptown and close to everything, including my school, my car is currently being stored at my parents’ house through the school year.

By the time the elevator reaches my floor, the tenth floor where there are only two apartments, I’m dragging the nylon bag that carries my lunch leftovers and the leather office satchel my parents gave me as a gift. I should take more care with it since I know it cost a lot, it’s hard at the moment to care.

My eyes are barely half-open, my hair styled so nicely earlier this morning in an attempt to look decent my first weeks of school is now tangled. Sweat is dripping down my spine and probably staining the blouse I’m wearing in that same attempt.

Not that it matters or went noticed. Most graduate students still dress in rumpled sweats and tees, not caring about their appearance. We still spend hours in class, more hours in the library doing research and even more hours writing and researching after hours. I was always taught to dress for the job you want, not the job you have, and I want to excel in teaching, not slump my way through school.

I might not have come from money, but I do come from a family with a lot of pride and honor in who we are.

I unlock my door and enter, dropping my satchel inside the door. After flipping on a few light switches, I drag my feet to the kitchen and plop down my lunch bag. My mouth is parched since I forgot my water bottle on the kitchen counter this morning when I left. It’s ninety-eight degrees outside and my last classroom of the day faces west and has broken blinds. I just spent hours where it felt more like one hundred and twenty. Every minute I spent in my chair increased my exhaustion exponentially.

But it’s Friday. Four o’clock. I have survived my first two weeks of my second year and now I have the entire weekend to do nothing but study, research, do laundry, and clean.

“Thank goodness,” I mutter. I empty the earlier forgotten water bottle, refill it, and as I’m chugging the water in my desperate need to rehydrate from all the sweat I lost today, I pull open the freezer to decide on tonight’s dinner.

Frozen fire-grilled steak and rice bowl? Enchiladas? Spinach ravioli?

“Ugh.” I close the freezer door and pull up Uber Eats instead. I’ll eat the frozen meals when I’m desperate or when my bank account is on its last breath before a stipend check arrives. I’m not quite there yet.

After I order my meal, I head to my bedroom where I strip out of my skirt and blouse into a much more comfortable pair of yoga shorts and a tank top with a built-in bra.

In the bathroom, I wash off my half-ruined makeup and reapply moisturizer. My hair that looked so cute this morning, curled in loose beach waves now looks like I spent hours rubbing balloons all over it before jumping into the dryer without a dryer sheet. And that’s with it being pulled up halfway through the day into a bun.

Thanks North Carolina, for the humidity that never quits. I pull my hair back into a low and loose ponytail.

The corner soaking tub silently calls to my tired limbs and I promise myself after I get food in me, I’ll spend the rest of the evening taking a bubble bath while having a glass of wine and reading my new romance novel. I’ve been waiting all week to dive into it.

“Soon, dear friend.” I lovingly pat the edge of the tub on my way out. I’m a bubble bath lover to the extreme and weeks like this are exactly why. There’s nothing more relaxing than soaking in hot water until the knotted stress at my shoulders and lower back from sitting all day long melt into the tub.

The very idea and reminder that I get to spend days relaxing pushes a pep in my step as I head back down the long hallway to the living area.

Trent’s home is absolutely gorgeous. Not only does it have a stunning view of Uptown, but the horizon casts a beautiful glow at sunrise when the sun rises above the endless trees in the distance. I’m lucky to have an uncle who loves me enough to offer me up his place instead of having to