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Amelia's POV

If you asked me a day ago to explain why people saw Ronan Harding the way they did, I wouldn't have been able to tell you. I was confused about the matter myself, and why no one put a man like him in his place.

I had the answer now, though.

I arrived at the arena halfway through the game with NSU, and I spent the remaining hour watching Ronan slam men into the boards and onto the ice. Over and over and over again.

No one was as brutal as he was out there. He was mercilessly, taking every opportunity he got to do some damage. He purposely tried to get into fights multiple times, and we all watched the ref send him to the penalty box whenever he did. My eyes stayed glued to player number 32 in blue throughout most of the game.

This was why people didn't mess with him. Why they didn't say anything to him. Why some even feared him. Ronan Harding was a force to be reckoned with, and no one wanted to take their chances, both on and off the ice. I watched him play in a semi-hypnotic state.

I was never a huge hockey fan, but I had a basic understanding of the game thanks to my friends back in New York. They were die hard Rangers fans and spent every minute they could describing the games they watched to me. Sometimes, I even watched a game or two with them, but the occurrence was seldom.

I felt my heart falter in my chest at the memory, and for a second I let myself go back to the nights spent with Naomi, David, and Ezra, huddled together in front of the small TV in the boys' house. The two boys fought for the recliner before every game or movie we watched together, and Naomi would scream at them, telling them to stop and help her order some food. I always had the remote, and Ezra would constantly ask me to increase the volume, even though everyone else's eardrums would be on the verge of erupting. Dave would never stop complaining about Naomi using his shoulder as a pillow, but he still chose to occupy the seat next her whenever we were together. The three of them would throw their pillows at me whenever I changed the channel during a hockey game to annoy them, and because I was bored.

I missed them. I missed us.

I still had their numbers in my phone, but part of me was too cowardly to try to talk to them after I had left out of nowhere and changed all my contact details. Would they want to talk to me? After how I'd left without so much as a warning, would they be relieved to hear my voice, or angry? Did they miss me the way I missed them, or were they too upset at what I'd done to give me a second thought?

I didn't know how to fix the mess I had made, I didn't know if I could, but I missed them more than I realised in that moment.

The shrill sound of a whistle blowing pulled me out of my thoughts. I felt Lily move from beside me and I turned to see that she had stood up, along with Veronica on her left. A quick glance at their expressions told me something was wrong, and I rose from my chair to see what had irked them.

Athletes from both teams had halted on the ice, their attention on 2 players that looked like they were about to fight on the left side of the rink. The real worry and confusion wasn't a fight, fighting was somewhat a part of hockey, it was that the two players that were about to go at each other were wearing the same coloured jerseys.

It took me a beat to read the numbers on their backs, and my jaw unhinged and practically hit the floor when I saw the number 32 on the back of one of the players. Is he really that stupid? I couldn't help asking myself the question. How dumb do you have to be to get into a fight with your own teammate in the middle of a game?

"What the hell is Ronan doing?" Lily asked, her arms flailing in his direction and her eyes wide as she looked to Veronica. She voiced our own concern.

"What's Conner doing?" Veronica countered, her eyes glued to the two teammates in the rink. I realised she was referring to the other buffoon, kit number 9, who also looked ready to fight. Though, it seemed he was waiting for Ronan to take the first hit.

I couldn't see Conner's helmet-covered face from the distance I was at, but he wasn't as tall as Ronan. He was, however, just as broad and muscular, if not more. The results of the two of them fighting would be painful to say the least. I didn't even want to think of the injuries they would nurse by the end of it.

Number 27 swiftly glided over to Ronan. It was when he removed his helmet that I realised it was Hunter. He tugged at the back of Ronan's jersey and managed to get him to back away from Conner a little bit. Hunter spoke directly into Ronan's ear, and though no one could know what it was he said, whatever he said had clearly worked. Hunter clapped Ronan on the shoulder and put his helmet back on while Ronan turned his back to Conner and slowly skated away.

How Hunter had managed to tame the beast was a mystery. From my encounter with Ronan and what I saw in today's game, he probably would have broken Conner's nose in a heartbeat if Hunter hadn't worked his magic.

The goalie, who Lily informed me was Mason, gave Ronan a pat on the back as he approached him and got ready to go back into play.

The three of us sat down once the slightly confused referee decided to not hand out any penalties. Veronica let out a breathy sigh. "Thank God he walked away. That would have ended really badly if he didn't."

Lily nodded in agreement, her attention back on her phone. "Does this happen often?" I asked my friends curiously as we settled back down. Maybe this was a regular occurrence? Ronan fighting with everyone on the ice was something I wouldn't find too hard to believe. The man seemed to want to fight anyone that gave him an excuse.

Veronica didn't answer until play resumed. "No, it doesn't. Conner and Ronan don't really get along, but it's never been this bad, ever," she informed me, her eyes flicking between me and the ice rink as she leaned over Lily to talk to me.

"Ronan usually keeps his cool during games," Lily added, not looking up from her phone. "He's too serious about hockey to risk messing up. I'm pretty sure he wants to go pro?" She directed the question at Veronica.

"Yeah, he does," Veronica confirmed. "Well," I said, shifting my attention back to number 32. "He won't be going anywhere if he keeps this up. Why is he like that?"

Lily and Veronica both gave me questioning looks. "Like what?" Lily asked. It was in this moment that I realised that, though Ronan was practically a stranger to me, that wasn't the case with my roommates. Both of them were acquainted with him, if they weren't full blown friends.

I took a moment to come up with the appropriate words, biting back the offensive ones that wanted to slip out. "So loud," I decided, "He's so aggressive. It's like he's just waiting for the chance to fight. Physically and verbally," I added at the end as I thought back to the night I met him.

Both girls grinned and chuckled at my words. Veronica waved a hand as she explained, "He's just built like that, Mia. Easily angered, easily offended." Lily nodded in agreement.

"You know," Lily said, her eyes on the game, "He was so much worse when we were in first year. The fact that Mason and Hunter can get him to calm down now is like, a huge deal."

"Oh, definitely," Veronica's eyes flashed as she spoke. It was almost as if she could see the memories playing before her eyes. "Before, he would not listen to a word anyone said to him when he was pissed off. It was like his ears just, stopped working."

Veronica turned her whole body to me before saying, "When Hunter and I were friends back in our first year, he would constantly complain about Ronan and how he was just so impulsive. He would worry a lot about him as well, especially when Ron got into fights."

"He's actually chilled out quite a bit now," Lily chirped, her eyes glued to her phone. How the woman could keep up with our conversation while immersed in her phone was a mystery to me.

"So, I'm guessing everyone still knows him as this big scary guy that'll go off on you any minute?"

"Mm-hmm," Veronica replied to me with a smile. "You're catching on fast Del Fava."

We fell into a comfortable silence as we turned our attention back to the hockey game. I processed everything my friends told me and almost laughed out loud. So this Ronan is the better version? I didn't even want to imagine what he was like before. I would have found him intolerable.

I couldn't help but feel bad for his sister, Isabelle. The poor thing, she had such a harsh guy as a brother. His irresponsibility in not looking out for his little sister during his party started to make a bit more sense. He didn't care about other people enough to even hear them out, one wrong word and you'd be saying hello to his fist. A guy like that not taking care of his little sister made sense. Did he even care about her?

His reaction from when I told him about Isabelle's mouth injury resurfaced, and I realised I was wrong to assume he didn't care. He did care about her, just not enough to watch out for her in a house full of drunk adults, apparently.

I almost jumped out of my skin when Lily shook my shoulder. She was sporting a worried expression when I looked at her, her blonde locks falling into her eyes as she looked down at me. "Earth to Amelia. Game's over, hon, let's go."

I followed them absentmindedly, trying the figure out the question that was Ronan Harding in my mind's eye as we made our way outside. The conclusion I drew up was that he might have just been a tad bit bipolar with his hot and cold behaviour. It was the only explanation I could come up with.

Veronica and Lily were ahead of me, the two best friends giggling together at I didn't know what because I hadn't been listening. When I looked around, I realised they had lead me past the building's exit. "Erm, guys? Where are we going? I thought the game was over," I asked them, but I had my answer when I saw the sign on the wall that pointed us towards the locker rooms.

Veronica opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by a door slamming in front of us. I felt the ground shake with how force it had been swung shut. After overcoming the shock from the unexpected sound, I looked ahead of us to see what the cause of the disturbance was.

I wasn't at all surprised to see the man himself strut out of the hallway that lead to the dressing rooms. "Good game, Ronan," Veronica tried telling him as he went by, but he seemed to be in his own world. And, as always, he looked pissed.

He didn't so much as look at Veronica as he blew by her.

I don't know why his complete ignorance towards my friend struck a nerve, but it did. I don't know why I felt the need to do something about it, but the words left my mouth before I could think about what I was getting myself into. "Hey Princess!"

Ronan stopped in his tracks and turned on his heels. His nostrils flared. His ears were pink from the tips. I could practically see smoke blowing out of his ears and flames dancing in his eyes. His rage filled eyes zeroed in on me as I took a few steps in his direction.

He didn't utter a word, but his silence was deafening.

"She said something to you," I couldn't tell you where the bitterness in my words came from. "When someone speaks to you, you answer them. It's called manners, ever heard of them?"

I couldn't read his expression, but I saw it change, just for a split second, before his scowl was back in place.

I steeled myself, ready to take whatever words he spat at me. I expected the worst, and then some more. Maybe a few insults and some stupid defence for his action. Maybe even a 'get lost' or a 'mind your own business'.

What I didn't expect was an apology.

He shifted his gaze from me to Veronica. His eyes softened slightly, but his voice was strained as he spoke. "I'm sorry Vicky. Thank you for that."

I didn't see Veronica's or Lily's reaction. I didn't register what Veronica said to him, or what he said back. I was in complete awe. I think my jaw was hanging open, threatening to touch the ground.

Did Ronan freaking Harding just apologise?

No, there was no way. When he brought his attention back to me, his eyes dropped my unhinged jaw, just for a second. "Happy?" he asked and threw his arms out slightly, his voice even and calm.

He didn't wait for me to respond. I don't think I could in my shocked state. He left, continuing on his way.

I watched him go before Veronica came into my line of sight. "Amelia, what was that? You didn't have to say anything, he was obviously mad," she scolded.

"I," I started, unsure of what to say. "I-I don't know."

My eyes were focused on door Ronan had just walked out of.