The Hookup Pact

5| Evelyn

"Someone needs to remind me why we hate the hockey team because God damn, I'm about to fold. Just look at all the human male perfection we are missing out on," April sighed dreamily, and I rolled my chair a little back to lean over and peek at her computer screen.

She was gawking at one of the players doing pull-ups. Shirtless.

But that wasn't what grabbed my attention. Beside the shirtless dude, I spotted Atlas, who had accidentally walked into the frame. I could tell because the next minute he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead and I got the glorious view of his well-defined torso.

I knew he was fit, but I didn't know he was built like a marble sculpture.

I also didn't know how knowing this fact would make me feel or that I would get the sudden urge to trail my hand up his body and then slowly lower it until—- What the fuck?

There would be nothing of that sort happening. It was Atlas for fucksake, I hated that man. His tempting body changed nothing. Why am I even looking at him when the camera is on someone else?

Clearing my throat, I tore my gaze away from her screen, focusing back on mine where I spotted Atlas again in the background of Dylan's picture. Why was he everywhere? Or was I noticing him more?

"Because they stole our budget. They still do," I grumbled, picking up my tumbler and walking over to the water filter in the studio. I needed a screen break. The entire team had been going in and out of the studio to work in between classes since morning. The hockey team's webpage was launching soon and we were supposed to present a sample media kit by the end of this week for approval.

"Do you know how old some of our equipment is? They have been due for a change for at least five years now," I said, pressing the button for warm water.

April's brows furrowed. "I know that. But what does it have to do with the hockey team?"

"Because all the expensive hockey sticks, new jerseys, and latest equipment they get come from the cuts in our budget. And instead of being grateful, those brutes break expensive sticks like sore losers when things don't go their way and then demand new ones," Veena quipped and I gave her a thankful smile for backing me up.

She and I were the only freshmen present during that disastrous meeting two years ago. We had seen our seniors explain why we needed the budget, even stoop down to begging and yet, the budget went to the hockey team because they wanted some flashy workout machine. The cost of which could have covered the cost of half of our equipment.

On top of that, their current captain had the audacity to act like everyone in the university needed to adjust to their requirements and not complain because of course the hockey team was invaluable. How dare mere peasants like us ask for something?

Rage filled me again at the memory, reminding me that just because he was somewhat nice to me these days didn't erase all the times he'd been a complete douche.

Now, I just needed to hold onto these feelings throughout the project so that every time I was editing a video clip of him, posting his picture on the official Instagram account, or writing an article about him, I did not stray away from the objective. To get this project done and get the money that our team had deserved for a long time.

"Enough chit-chat now. Just save the files on the drive and then you can leave for your classes. We'll start properly working on them later," I said, dismissing the conversation. "And don't forget we have a game to attend tonight. Make sure all cameras are charged and you have enough space on the hard drives."