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BLAISE

A s I take in the scene in front of me, I can’t help but ask myself the same old question: Why am I here? I sink deeper into the corner of the couch and debate whether that’s the right move when Knox jumps up and waves his controller around like he might launch it at our television.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Knox shouts at the screen. "That was clearly interference!"

"Dude, you literally skated into him." Levi laughs, not looking up from his own controller. "That's not interference, that's you completely missing the plot there."

"I fucking saw it, the ref is?—"

"The ref is a computer program," Asher points out dryly. "It doesn't have bias against your terrible gameplay."

"My gameplay isn't terrible," Knox says, but his voice cracks slightly on the last word as his player gets checked into the boards again.

I watch them argue, but soon their voices blend into background noise because I really don’t give a damn.

It doesn't matter who wins or loses because my mind is somewhere else entirely.

Has been since I walked through the door twenty minutes ago and realized I was waiting for someone who might not even show up.

I pull out my phone and check the time. Seven-thirty. No new messages.

"Blaise!" Wilder's voice makes me stop staring at my phone. "Back me up here. Tell these idiots that the Titans' power play is garbage this season."

"Sure." I shrug, not really listening. My eyes drift to the front door, then back to my phone screen.

Wilder tosses a throw pillow at me when I don't explain my reasoning. "That's it? That's your analysis?"

"Deep stuff," Asher adds, smirking. "Really insightful commentary there, Dalton."

I catch the pillow and set it aside, forcing myself to pay attention to the conversation going on around me.

Knox has moved on from complaining about the refs to arguing with Levi about defensive positioning, while Asher and Wilder debate whether the current Titans roster could beat last year's team.

"You're all wrong," I say, just to contribute something. "The problem isn't the power play or the defense. It's?—"

The front door opens.

My words die in my throat as voices carry from the entryway. I see our guests for the evening file in one by one.

Selene walks in first, laughing at something over her shoulder. Isla, Hailey, and Jade follow behind her, chatting about who knows what.

And then my jaw almost drops when I see the woman I’m obsessed with: Willow.

She steps through the doorway like she owns the place, scanning the room with those sharp green eyes. When her gaze finds mine, there's the briefest flicker of acknowledgement before she looks away.

"Ladies!" Wilder calls out and he hops out of his seat. "Perfect timing. We were just proving that Levi has no idea how hockey actually works."

"I heard that," Levi mutters, but he's grinning.

I watch Willow shrug out of her coat. She's wearing dark jeans and a cream sweater that makes her skin look even brighter under our shitty lighting. She hangs her coat on the back of a chair before finding a seat on the other side of the room.

Away from me.

My stomach drops like I've just taken a hit to the boards. I wasn't expecting her, not really. Knox mentioned the girls might stop by, but he didn't say Willow would be with them. She usually avoids coming over here like the plague, so it was the last thing I expected. I hope I’m keeping up the mask I’ve been wearing every time I’m near Knox or else I’m screwed.

Willow looks completely unaffected. Like Puerto Rico was just another vacation, another week that came and went without leaving any marks.

The way she sits down on one of our couches while laughing at something Jade whispers to her makes me wonder if she’s as affected as I am and she’s just doing a better job of hiding it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wilder move and spare a look his way.

He glances up mid-conversation and I watch as his gaze lands on Jade for just a second too long before he looks away like it never happened.

Huh. Makes me wonder what he was saying or thinking about his best friend.

I don’t give myself an opportunity to explore it. Instead, I turn my attention back to the videogame, but I'm not really watching. Every few seconds, my eyes drift her way. Her hair falls over one shoulder, and I find myself remembering how it felt between my fingers.

"Blaise, you're up," Knox says, holding out a controller.

"What?" I blink, realizing the game has ended and they've been talking to me.

"Winner plays next," Knox repeats, eyeing me strangely. "You okay, man? You seem distracted."

"Just tired," I lie, taking the controller. "You know how it is."

I settle back into my spot and start a new game with Asher, but my focus is shot.

Willow laughs again, and the sound cuts through all of the noise in my head like it's meant only for me.

I glance over without thinking, and for a split second, our eyes lock.

Her smile falters slightly, lips parting just enough that I remember exactly how they felt under mine.

For that moment, it's like we're the only two people in the room.

Then Selene says something that makes Willow turn away, breaking whatever moment that was. My hands tighten on the controller as I force myself to look back at the screen.

"Dude, you just scored on your own goal." Asher laughs. "What the hell was that?"

"Shit." I shake my head, trying to refocus. "Sorry. Brain's somewhere else."

The rest of the game passes and things don’t get any better.

In fact, the best way I can describe it is that it was a blur of missed shots and terrible plays.

Thank fuck this isn’t a real game or else I’m convinced Coach would bench me.

I can't concentrate with Willow in my peripheral vision, the way she tucks her legs under herself on the couch, how she absently plays with a strand of hair while listening to the other girls.

"I'm getting another beer," I announce, standing up abruptly. "Anyone want anything?"

A chorus of requests follows me to the kitchen. As I'm pulling bottles from the fridge, I hear footsteps behind me.

"Mind if I grab some water?" I’m both surprised and not that it’s Willow standing behind me.

I don't turn around immediately. Can't because all hell would break loose within me. "Course not."

Willow slides past me and it’s close enough that my arm tingles where her sweater grazes my bicep. I keep my eyes on the fridge, staring at a random shelf instead of her face, but the urge to pull her close is strong.

She fills her glass in silence, then glances sideways at me. “You look like you’re about to interrogate that six-pack,” she says, voice just above a whisper.

She’s not wrong, but I don’t give her the satisfaction of a smile. “Trying to decide if it deserves to live,” I say, grabbing a random bottle and popping the cap.

She leans against the counter and looks at me with her eyebrows raised. “You going to ask what I’m doing here, or just keep pretending you weren’t surprised?”

I risk a look and I don’t regret it. She’s so fucking beautiful. “You’re allowed to hang out here. Your brother lives here after all.”

She snorts. “I avoid this house like it gives me hives. You know that.”

“So is this some kind of punishment? Are you putting up with my presence as some sort of penance?” I toss out without taking a beat to think about it.

Instead of answering right away, Willow takes a sip of her water before her eyes land on me. “Or maybe Selene guilt-tripped me into it. Jury's still out."

"I'm shocked Selene got you to do anything," I admit. "Isn't she on your list of mortal enemies?"

“You're thinking of Hailey. Selene's just…exhausting, not an enemy. We can file Ari under that as well."

There's a moment where neither of us says anything and then we both start laughing. When we sober up, Willow clears her throat and says, “I really came back here to talk to you about something. It’s a pretty big deal to me.”

That makes me pause for a second because I don’t know where this could be going. I turn to her to give her my full and undivided attention. “What’s up?”

“You ever get a message from someone you thought you’d erased from your head forever?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Not my favorite experience.”

“Me neither. Except this wasn’t Leo.” She sets her glass down with more force than necessary. “It was someone he’s dating. Or was. Or…I don’t know, maybe in his head he’s dating her and she’s just another girl he’s screwing over.”

“What did she want?”

“Answers, I guess? She found me through some mutuals, and to be honest I’m not sure how.

She asked for the tea on Leo. Kept it low-key at first, like she was looking for tips on how to manage his bullshit.

” Willow looks up at the ceiling before she looked back at me.

“But then she said he’d started doing stuff.

Scary stuff. She wanted to know if…if it was something to worry about.

Which I quickly told her yes that’s scary as hell. ”

“What did she say?” I feel my anger starting to grow and I know my reaction depends on what she shares next.

“She said it started out normal,” Willow begins but I notice the shift when she sighs, “but then he got weird. Like, sending messages all hours, pushing her to send stuff she wasn’t comfortable with.

The texts got more explicit.” Her fingers drum against the countertop, restless.

“Kept asking if she was talking to other guys, even though they weren’t actually dating.

He’d say really nice shit in public, but then he’d turn around and pick her apart in private.

Make her apologize for things that were literally not her fault.

He’s refined the technique since high school, I guess. ”