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Still standing, I open the kit and rummage around until my fingers make contact with the hard metal scissors. “Here,” I say, handing them over. Coach Green carefully cuts through the tape, but my stomach lurches when I see the way his ankle juts to the side, twisted unnaturally.

“Fuck,” Pete says, eyes wet. “Is it broken?”

“I fucking hope not,” Green mutters, inspecting his foot. The skin is white, but his toes are a purplish red. “You’ve just about cut off the circulation.” His gaze shifts up to me. “Did you wrap this?”

“I—” My words die in the back of my throat. Ididn’tdo it, but I should have. I was late and even then, when I saw it, I didn’t stop him. I knew he was pushing it too far and was going to get hurt.

“It’s not her fault.” A strong hand lands on my shoulder, heavy and reassuring. Reese adds, “Pete wrapped his own ankle.”

Staring down at that ankle, bile rises to the back of my throat. Coach Green was right after all. I was distracted. I did let it affect my work. I was late, dealing with this relationship drama. I didn’t tell Coach Green the risks he was taking and what he was asking me to do.

“Perkins!”

I blink, jerking away from Reese’s touch. “Yes, sir.”

“Go call the emergency number and get an ambulance down here.”

“Yes, sir,” I repeat, dropping the kit on the ice. One last look at Pete and the anguish on his face and I understand now why Coach Green was so adamant about me not getting distracted. It was never about me and Reese. It was always about putting the team first.

As I rush away from the consequences of my actions, I realize that doing both is impossible.

25

Reese

I wait until after dark to show up at the teal house. Before I walk up the path, I draw my hood up over my head, hopefully cloaking my face. After Pete was carried off the ice by the EMTs, Coach Bryant sent us to the weight room for the rest of practice. I’d tried to text and call Twyler after I left the arena, but she never responded. Anything past three of each just feels like stalking.

I knock on the door and wait, determined not to walk away without talking to her about what happened. I know she blames herself for Pete’s injury. He’s been over-wrapping that ankle since the beginning of the season despite her telling him to take it easy. It’s not her fault he’s a stubborn bastard who refuses to listen.

The door opens, but I deflate when Nadia is the one that answers.

“Hey,” I say, peering around her into the small house. “Is Twy here?”

“She is.” Her hip props against the door jamb. “But she doesn’t want any visitors.”

“I just want to check on her after what happened today.” And find out what her advisor said, because before Pete went down, she’d been happy, like she had good news. “Can you tell her I’m here?”

“She’s pretty rattled.” Her arm stretches out and she grips the opposite side of the door. A clear indicator she’s not willingly letting me pass. “I think she just needs some time to process everything.”

I don’t blame her. The first time I heard someone’s leg snap was at hockey camp in the fourth grade. I can still hear the howl of pain when that kid went down, grabbing his leg and crying for his mother. Pete took it a lot better than that ten-year-old, but I saw the look in his eye. Fear. Not just about the pain, but for his future.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“Reese, honey, and I mean this in the nicest way possible…go the fuck home. She’llcall you when she’s ready.”

My eyebrows raise, because even though I knew Twyler was upset, I didn’t think she’d shut me out. “Okay,” I say, not feeling okay at all. I thrust a hand in my hair. “Will you tell her I came by?”

Nadia looks sympathetic as she starts to close the door in my face, because I don’t know where else to go. Right before the door shuts, I hear a voice and my heart skips a beat. “It’s okay, you can let him in.”

Nadia frowns, but jerks the door back open. She looks between us. “I’ll be in my room.”

I don’t move until Nadia’s closed behind her bedroom door, then I cross the threshold and yank down my hood. She’s got her arms wrapped around her waist and she steps back, just out of my reach. Ouch. Okay.

I take a deep breath. “I didn’t get to see you after practice.”

“After Pete went to the ER, Coach Green called me into his office.”

“Oh, shit.” This was her biggest fear, telling Green about the two of us, but she’s eerily calm. “Okay, how did that go?”