Page 47 of Beyond the Lines (Pine Barren University #1)

“Mike, let’s talk about this,” I start, now that he’s got his shot in, but he cuts me off with a laugh that sounds more like a snarl.

“Talk? What’s there to talk about? You’ve been sneaking around with my sister behind my back!”

Before I can respond to the accusation, the bartender slams a baseball bat on the bar and shouts loud enough to silence the room. “Out,” he commands .

Linc and Maine maneuver Mike toward the exit, still restraining him. Rook trails behind, looking like he wants to crawl under a rock. I follow at a distance, my jaw throbbing.

“I had no idea,” Rook whispers as we reach the door. “I swear, I?—”

“Shut up, Rookie,” I mutter. “Just… shut up.”

Outside, the cool night air does nothing to calm the fire in Mike’s eyes. This confrontation has been brewing for weeks, and now that it’s here, I realize I’m not sorry about being with Lea.

As we stumble into the street outside the bar, my jaw throbs where Mike’s fist connected, but I’ve taken harder hits on the ice. Far worse is the ache in my chest, knowing that my best friend—a guy who was already struggling—is now furious with me.

But that doesn’t mean I’m going to take a backward step.

I love Lea, and I’ll fight for her if I need to.

Without actually, you know, fighting.

The second the bouncer shuts the door behind us, Mike tries to shrug off Linc and Maine. “Round two, Dec,” Mike says.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Linc yanks Mike back, although it’s a struggle that he only wins with help from Maine. “Let’s all take a breath here.”

Mike glares at him. “Let go of me!”

“Dude, I know you’re pissed,” Linc says, placing a firm hand on Mike’s chest, “but this isn’t the place.”

“What place would you suggest?” Mike’s voice is dangerously quiet. “Somewhere else he can fuck my sister? ”

Rook hovers awkwardly to the side. “Look, I didn’t mean to?—”

“Shut up,” four voices snap in unison.

“Why don’t we all head back to my apartment?” Maine suggests, hopefully. “We can talk this out over some beers.”

“Talk what out?” Mike tries to step around Linc, who shifts to block him. “The fact that my teammate—my fucking friend —has been lying to my face?”

A small crowd has gathered on the sidewalk, watching us with the gleeful anticipation of vultures circling roadkill. I can almost see the Instagram stories being composed in their heads— HOCKEY TEAM DRAMA —complete with flame emojis.

Mike takes another step forward, and again Linc and Maine pull him back. And at this point, I decide I’ve had enough. While I appreciate the guys trying to defuse the situation, this will not be resolved with Linc and Maine playing human shield.

“Guys,” I say quietly, “I need you to leave.”

Maine blinks at me. “What? No way!”

“This is between me and Mike.” I shrug. “This isn’t a team issue. It’s personal.”

“No shit.” Mike scoffs. “You fucked my sister and lied to my face.”

“I didn’t lie to your face,” I interrupt. “I just didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, well, that’s different then,” Mike says, dripping sarcasm. “My mistake.”

Linc looks between us, clearly torn. “Dec, I don’t think?—”

“I’m sure.” I meet his concerned gaze steadily. “This isn’t going away.”

“This is a bad idea,” Linc mutters, but he finally steps away from Mike, who surprisingly doesn’t immediately lunge for my throat. “Call us if… just call, OK?”

“Will do,” I say, in a tone that tells them to move it. I appreciate their concern, but their hovering is making things worse.

As Linc and Maine walk off, Rook stays back a second. “I’m really sorry, guys. I didn’t know it was a secret.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, though it’s absolutely not. But, deep down, I always knew it would come to this sooner or later. And, when the rookie is gone, I touch my lip, inspecting the smear of blood on my fingertips. “What the fuck, Mike? I think you chipped my tooth, dude.”

Mike doesn’t look remotely sorry. In fact, he looks like he’d love nothing more than to rearrange the rest of my face. And, once the others round a corner and can no longer stop him, he advances on me again, shoving me hard. I stumble back against someone’s truck.

“We’re not done talking,” he growls. “And it’s taking all my restraint to keep talking and not just put you in the fucking hospital, Dec.”

“Talking? That’s what you call it?” I sidestep another shove, raising my hands in surrender. “You didn’t say a damn word before your fist was in my face.”

His eyes are volcanic. I’ve seen that look before, usually right before he destroys someone on the ice. “You deserved it,” he spits, lunging for my collar.

I deflect his hand without throwing a punch of my own. I might be angry, but I’m not going to hit him. Even if right now he looks like he’s forgotten we’re friends. But I know that, with Mike, the best way to get him to see reason is to let him blow off steam .

“Fuck, Mike. Just stop.” I sigh, grabbing another poorly aimed punch and pushing his fist away.

“You fucking knew she was off-limits.” His voice cracks. “I made that perfectly clear at the first team dinner.”

Ah. The “bro code” moment. I remember it well.

Mike, half a dozen beers deep, ranting about how no one on the team was allowed to touch his baby sister.

How he’d personally ensure anyone who tried would regret it no matter who it was or what the circumstances.

But I’m not going to apologize for liking Lea.

“Ironic,” I say. “A speech meant to protect Lea might be the very thing that keeps her from someone who actually cares about her. It just happened, Mike.”

“Just happened?” Mike laughs, a sound like broken glass. “What, you tripped and fell into my sister’s bed?”

My temples throb. I should probably let him burn himself out.

But something hot and defiant rises in my chest. I’ve let him have one solid shot and to push me around a bit, but my patience isn’t limitless.

So when he tries to push me against the truck again, I shove back.

He doesn’t expect it, and lands on his ass.

“Lea is an adult,” I say, the words measured and deliberate. “She makes her own choices about who she dates. And if she wants to date me, she can.”

“Bullshit.” Mike advances again. “She doesn’t know what she wants. She’s still recovering from that asshole Chris?—”

“Which I know all about.” I stand my ground this time. “We talk, Mike. We don’t just fuck, OK?”

His eyes widen slightly. “She?—”

“You don’t get to protect her from living her life,” I interrupt. “And you sure as hell don’t get to tell her who to love.”

“Love?” His face contorts as he starts back to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes again. “Don’t you dare throw that word around?—”

“I love her, Mike,” I say. “I love her.”

The words hang in the night air. I didn’t plan to say it—not like this, not to Mike before Lea herself. But it’s out there now, and it’s true. The realization washes over me. I love her, and I’ve probably loved her since that first night at Marie’s Diner.

“You love her?” He shakes his head, still on his ass. “That’s bullshit. You barely know each other.”

“We know each other plenty,” I counter, standing my ground.

“We spent a whole night talking after that frat party, and we’ve been working on a project together in our art class for weeks.

I know she adores you, struggles with your parents, and lives in the shadow of your grandmother… ” I know her, Mike.”

“No.” He starts climbing back to his feet, then jabs a finger at my chest. “You don’t get to claim that. Not after a few weeks of sneaking around.”

A car drives by, its headlights briefly illuminating us—two idiots arguing on a sidewalk, one with blood on his face, and the other with steam coming out of his ears. The driver slows down, probably hoping for more drama, but speeds up when Mike glares at them.

“You’re not good enough for her,” Mike says, his voice low now. The quiet is somehow worse than the shouting. “You never will be.”

That stings more than I want to admit. “Why? Because I play hockey? Because I’m your teammate? What, exactly, disqualifies me?”

“She deserves someone stable.” His jaw tightens. “Not someone who’s going to desert her for the NHL the second they get a contract.”

I nearly laugh at the irony. “You won’t have to worry about that,” I say, meeting his gaze directly. “Because I’m not going to the NHL. This is my last season.”

Mike’s anger falters in a single moment, confusion taking its place. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m done after graduation.” The words feel both terrifying and liberating to say out loud. “I’m focusing on my art.”

“You’re…” He blinks, like he’s trying to process words in another language. “That’s stupid. You’re one of the best players in college hockey. That scout?—”

“I don’t care about the scout.” I shrug, wincing slightly when the movement pulls at my split lip. “I care about my art. And I care about Lea.”

“So you’re throwing everything away? Just like that?” His face has drained of color. “Years of work? Everything we’ve built on this team?”

“I’m not throwing anything away. I’m choosing something else.” I hesitate, then add, “Something that matters more to me.”

Something flashes across Mike’s face—hurt, betrayal, and disbelief. For a moment, I think he might actually hit me again. Instead, his expression hardens into something cold and distant.

“Fuck you, Dec.” He backs away, shaking his head. “Just… fuck you.”

He turns and storms off down the sidewalk. I should go after him, try to explain more, but I know Mike well enough to recognize when he needs space. Besides, my lip is starting to throb like a bastard, and I should probably get some ice on it.

As I watch him go, I let out a long sigh. My jaw aches, my head is pounding, and I’ve probably just destroyed one of my closest friendships—but oddly enough, I feel lighter than I have in months. No more sneaking around. No more hiding what I really want.

My next thought is Lea. I know that’s where Mike is headed, and I need to warn her. Briefly, I consider going over there myself, but in Mike’s current mood I think that’ll just inflame the situation. No, better to warn her instead, so she can handle it how she chooses.

So after firing off a quick warning text to Lea, I start the long and lonely walk back to my apartment. But, with each passing step, it feels like I’m on the right path for the first time in months, because I’ve made my choices and the truth is finally out there.

And as terrifying as that is, it’s also a relief.

I just hope Lea feels the same way.