Where The Ice Melts

IVY POV

If anyone had told me I’d spend my last year of college tutoring and watching over the school’s golden boy, I would have laughed… loudly, crazily, maybe even enough to get kicked out of the dean’s office.

And yet… here I was, sitting in Professor Reyes’ office, listening to why this arrangement was supposedly “beneficial” and how it would “boost my record” in getting my dream job at Kirkland & Ellis, one of the biggest law firms in the world. According to her, I needed to be part of the top twenty students they could consider, and this….this humiliating, soul-draining task was apparently my golden ticket.

I hugged my notebook tighter, pretending the leather strap would shield me from the reality of the next few months.

My brain kept whispering, Ivy, you’ve got this. It’s fine. You need this.

Yeah, right. the other voice screamed, You’re fucked.

Completely, utterly, no-come-back-from-this fucked.

How the hell was I supposed to handle him? That asshole. He's the King of No Chills for a reason. Gosh, his fucking temper.. That arrogant bastard.

Everyone threads carefully around him. And me? I was about to walk straight into his world.

My chest felt tight. My hands were sweaty. My quiet little life? Ahh. Gone.

Professor Dean Reyes leaned forward, her eyes sharp. “You’re one of our best students, Ivy. That’s why we chose you. You won’t just tutor him… you’ll make sure he passes. And that he doesn’t mess up his chances of getting drafted into the NHL. Your work will be noticed. Opportunities like this don’t come twice.”

I nodded, letting her words sink in.

But all I could picture was Ronan Hale… leaning back in his chair, wearing that smug grin, acting like algebra was beneath him. The golden boy everyone worshipped. The one who broke hearts and crushed egos without trying.

And now? He was my responsibility.

My assignment.

My problem.

My nightmare.

Because if he didn’t get drafted into the National Hockey League, I could kiss my recommendation letter goodbye.

“Of course,” I said evenly, hiding the part of me that wanted to run screaming out of the building. “I’ll make sure he passes.”

Professor Reyes smiled, satisfied. I, on the other hand, wondered if I’d survive the semester… or if I’d even keep my sanity.

That will be all for now,” Professor Reyes said, sliding a thin manila file across the desk toward me.

I picked it up, the weight of it feeling heavier than just paper… this was my life for the next few months.

“You can find his contact in there,” she continued, tapping the top of the folder. “Try to get to him before the end of the day. I expect good results within the next two months… before his big game, okay? Thank you again for doing this, Ivy. I knew I could count on you.”

I forced a smile, the kind that hides panic under polite teeth. “Of course. Happy to help.”

Her sharp eyes softened for the tiniest fraction of a second, then she leaned back and scribbled something on a notepad. That was my cue to leave. I tucked the file under my arm, heart already racing at the thought of tracking down Ronan Hale, the human embodiment of every headache and challenge I’d ever had.

As I walked out of the office, I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else… How hard can tutoring a golden boy be, Ivy?

I pulled my phone out and dialed his number. Not once, not twice, not three times… six times.

Six times… no response.

“Ahhhhghhh!” I shouted, loud enough to make a passing student jump and glare at me. Great. First day. Already embarrassing.

I threw my hands up, muttering curses under my breath, and typed a text instead:

“Hi… I’m Ivy, your new tutor. Would you be available later, say, by 5 p.m., so we can start a study plan? Meet at the West wing libary”

Sent.

I glanced at the clock. Three o’clock. Perfect. Plenty of time… except that I was already late for lunch with my besties… Max, my sarcastic tech genius roommate, and Zoe, my cheerfully chaotic partner-in-crime who somehow manages to make even algebra seem fun.

I sighed, stuffing the phone back in my bag. “What a great start,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I’m supposed to be saving my future and instead I’m babysitting the school’s golden disaster.”

Max raised an eyebrow when I joined them at our usual table in the student lounge. “You look like someone just handed you a dead body for lunch,” he said, nudging my tray.

“It might as well be,” I muttered, dropping into my seat. “I have to tutor Ronan Hale.”

Zoe’s eyes went wide. “Wait… the Ronan Hale? Hockey captain, heartbreaker, king of no chill? That arrogant douche”

“That’s him,” I said, stabbing at my salad with far more force than necessary. “And he’s ignoring my calls. Not that I’m surprised. He's probably somewhere doing what douches like him do.”

Max snorted. “Oh, this I’ve got to see. Ivy Cross versus Mr. Perfect Hockey Boy. Who’s gonna win?”

I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t done.

“Here I was thinking my last few months of college were going to be boring… and then voila! You bring the fun. You’re always a darling,” he said, giving my cheek a playful squeeze.

I tried not to flinch, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Max always had a way of making the impossible feel… a little less impossible.

I groaned, resting my head in my hand. “I’m not sure I want to find out. It all feels… impossible.”

Max’s grin grew, clearly loving my meltdown. “Impossible? Ivy, you eat impossible for breakfast. Remember last semester? That 95 in Organic Chemistry? Yeah… that was all you. You’ve got this.”

I blinked. “That’s chemistry… not… Ronan Hale.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, leaning closer, voice all mock-serious. “You’ve got brains, patience, and… most importantly… he’s never faced you before. You’re going to crush him if he tries to mess with you. And when you do…” He wagged his eyebrows. “You’ll be the legend who tamed the untamable golden boy.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop a small laugh. My stomach twisted.. panic mixed with… maybe a tiny spark of excitement. Max’s grin was contagious. For a moment, I actually thought I might survive this nightmare.

“Legend, huh?” I muttered.

Max laughed, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze. “Yeah. Every legend needs a little drama, right? Now go in there, Ivy Cross. Show him why no one messes with you.”

I drew a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Maybe… just maybe… I could do this.