Page 20

Alex

I gasped as Lance’s hand ripped from my shoulder. All I saw was the blur of red and white spinning past me. A bang tore through the rink, booming off the walls and ceilings, smothering Lance’s cry.

My skates slipped from under me and I tipped back, my hand stretched out to Lance as if I could somehow save him as the white ceiling of the rink filled my vision.

I landed with a thud, instantly twisting, keeping my eyes on Lance.

I needed to get to him. I couldn’t leave him, even though Coach jumped into the rink and made a beeline for him, along with the other guys.

We were used to falls; everyone had had crashes, most of us had broken bones from rough games.

But the difference was we weren’t limp on the ice with another player still throwing his fist into his chest.

“Brad!” I yelled, but there were too many voices calling him. All I could see was the knee pinning Lance’s shoulder, his raised fist, and the number 7 stamped on his shirt.

“Watch out,” Tommy growled as he yanked me by the arm, lifting me in an easy move.

I flipped up onto my skates, both of us shooting toward Lance as fast as we could.

“Get the fuck off him!” Tommy snarled, getting to Brad before me.

Chase and Porter had grabbed Brad and pulled him off Lance. The thud of Brad’s body on the ice matched the sound of my knees hitting it as I fell, pads taking the impact as I skidded toward Lance. I fed myself between his spread legs to get a look at his face.

The heel of Brad’s skates scratched on the ice as the pair yanked him away, but I was focused on reaching Lance, terrified he wasn’t breathing.

This was my fault; I’d done this. I’d made this situation where Lance slumped on the ice, his back bent as his chin knocked on his chest.

I had to make sure he was okay.

Tommy was behind me, one hand on the barrier, the other on Lance’s arm as he hunched down on his left.

“Lance? Lance? Are you okay?” I called him. I wanted to shake him, to wake him up, just so we knew he was okay.

Brad was too good to make a mistake like that. Even when he was pumped up, his control was always on point. It had to have been deliberate.

If Lance was really injured, Brad could be penalized. If Coach took him out of the game, there would be questions from the scouts. And I didn’t know what we'd do then.

The second I laid my hand against the hard shell of his pads, Lance groaned, and my shoulders dropped in relief.

Even when Lance might be seriously hurt, all I was thinking about was my future with Brad.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy barked from behind us. I didn’t hear Brad’s reply.

“Lance, just answer me,” I said.

Coach was shouting out orders for people to move.

It was my fault, because I already knew what had sent Brad into that state. Lance wanted us to act closer than ever, I just didn’t think it would have resulted in that.

A thrill tremored in my chest at Brad's fierceness, but I still had to take responsibility.

Lance groaned as he tipped farther forward, and I pushed at his shoulder and arm to stop him from slipping. People were murmuring around us. I didn’t want them crowding Lance, but it wasn’t like I was the only person he was friends with. There was a reason he was the freshman team captain.

Keeping him up by the shoulder Brad didn’t drive his knee into, I reached for his helmet.

“Don’t touch him,” Tommy shouted, grabbing my hand before I had a chance. My head snapped up to him, surprised at the worry which slashed his face. I’d never seen him do anything but scowl. “We don’t know how bad it is. He might pass out if you remove it.”

Lance groaned again, lifting his head, the back of his helmet bumping off the barrier. “Come on, Tommy. You know me better than that,” he said, opening his eyes to smirk at him through the cage of his helmet.

Tommy met Lance’s gaze with a hard stare of his own.

“You’re okay, then?” Tommy asked quietly.

I wanted to give them space, to let Tommy be the one to care for Lance like I knew Lance wanted.

Tommy’s chin dipped as he noticed how my hand had moved to Lance’s neck to hold him. I felt like I’d been caught. But, as far as Tommy knew, I was the one Lance wanted close by.

“You really think I’m going to be taken out by Brad Owens?” Lance choked out a laugh.

I eased myself back as a wall appeared around them, like there was a silent conversation happening between them I couldn’t be part of. The same way I felt whenever it was just me and Brad.

We’d made everything too complicated, and it was getting even more messed up.

Real crashes could be so serious that some guys couldn’t play for a whole season, or ever again.

“Alright, Alex, Tommy, get back.” Coach’s voice bounced off the walls of the stadium as he skated over from the other side of the rink. The guys parted for him and his two assistants, both stacked with first aid kits, and Coach jerked his thumb to tell us to move on.

I reluctantly shuffled away from Lance to let the assistants in.

The moment I was up, I shot a glare at Brad, who had crumpled on the ice and was looking at us with blank shock like he didn’t know what he’d just done.

Chase and Porter hung either side of him, frowning as they pressed on his shoulders to keep themselves upright on their skates, and to keep him down.

“Get him off the ice!” Coach shouted, his gaze hard, and my stomach turned.

Brad used his stick to push himself up, but it trembled as Chase and Porter dragged him across to the other side of the rink.

And not once did Brad break his gaze from me. He just kept staring until they pulled him through the barrier so he could stand there and look at what he had done.

***

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, filled with as much emotion as I could muster.

Standing over Lance with my hand on his good shoulder, he slouched on a bench in the nearly empty locker room.

With practice and all the drama over, Lance had been given the all clear. Now that we’d all finished being pissed off at Brad for fucking up practice, everyone scattered. They all said how worried they were about Lance, but they bolted for the hotel bar as soon as they had the chance.

Now, it was just the pair of us, and Tommy leaning against the lockers behind me, his arms folded, his body tense. His glare was etched so deeply in his face that he was going to have red lines when he finally relaxed.

And Tommy was the only reason I was still here. I was desperate to find out what had happened to Brad. But Coach was still lecturing him. If he’d been kicked from tomorrow’s game, I was never going to forgive myself.

Lance softened under me, his smile gentle, wistful, his pained eyes full of love as he wrapped his fingers through mine.

“You’re the only ones who are loyal.” Lance sighed dramatically, pressing my hand to his bare chest, right over his heart. His mournful gaze danced between me and Tommy.

Thankfully, Tommy couldn’t see my eyes roll, which only made Lance go harder into the act.

The only reason I went along with Lance’s touching before the practice game was because, even though I’d forgiven Brad, resentment still bubbled in me like tar. And so, I’d agreed to play along with this charade in front of Tommy to compensate for Brad.

I swept my hand to the throbbing purple bruise blooming over his right shoulder. I was surprised Coach was letting Lance play tomorrow.

“I’m fine, really, Alex,” Lance replied, voice trembling, his dramatic look twisting into concern. “You don’t need to worry.” He eased my hand from his chest, and, before I could stop him, he brought it to his cheek. “I’m just so glad you were there.”

“Lance… I…” I knew what Lance wanted from me, how he wanted me to act, but how was I supposed to fake being in love with him to this level? It was fine when he was flirting with me and I just had to be myself. Being the heartless boyfriend who suddenly abandoned him for Brad was a totally different role.

I wasn't training to be an actor like he was.

“How is Brad?” Lance whispered as he nuzzled my hand.

He was really milking it. It was even more embarrassing to be looked at with so much emotion.

“I don’t know,” I said as I turned away from his gaze, looking toward the door. “I haven’t spoken to him yet.” But I couldn’t stay with Lance for long. I needed to know our future was still secure.

Lance’s eyes shuttered closed, like he was overcome with the weight of it all, like it was just so unbearable that I wanted Brad more than him. It just made the churning whirl of guilt in my chest even tighter, even though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Because I wanted to be the reason Lance was hurt. I wanted Brad to be so jealous that he lost control of himself because of me. If he cared about me that much, there was no way he could pretend he didn’t at least feel something more than friendship for me. No matter what crap he fed me about our kiss.

“It’s okay, you can go to him.” Lance smiled weakly, pushing my fingers away from his chest, like he was returning my hand to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, really meaning it, though I laid it on thick with a shuddering breath. “Lance, I—”

He cut me off with a shake of his head. “I know. It’s okay,” he croaked, his throat bobbing. “I know.”

I had no idea what he knew, but I guess it worked, because Tommy let out a grunt from behind us.

Lance’s bottom lip trembled as he gave another dramatic sigh.

I released his hand, laying one more heartfelt look on him before I turned and briskly escaped the locker room and Lance’s theatrics.

Tommy could deal with the rest of Lance’s games. I just needed to get back to our room and find out the news.

Brad and I always shared a room when we went away for the weekend, whether it was a school trip, hockey trip, or a family vacation. That was one of our rituals. And it usually resulted in a sleepy Brad walking around naked at 5AM, and me hiding under the covers, hoping he didn’t see how hard I was.

Which I (mostly) loved, but we had done it forever since we started away games. We’d stopped after he sucked me off. And the semi-finals were meant to be the first time we had been together since then.

We’d arranged it with Coach months in advance, so we couldn’t change. But there was no way I could handle being in the same room as him after he kissed me.

I would have asked Lance if I could trade, but he was always Team “Go-For-It.”

I only caught the rough timbre of Tommy’s voice before I pushed at the swinging door. It slammed behind me and I took a deep breath, preparing myself to face Brad.