Page 12

CHAPTER 12

JACE

F acing off with Axel in the pub was harder than facing off with any opponent on the ice.

But I'd done what I came here to do. I'd taken my shot and told him the truth, whether he wanted to believe me or not. Like I told him, it wasn't my problem. It didn't surprise me that Preston had lied to him and was lying still. And if Axel wanted to hold onto those lies, then there was nothing I could do.

Not a goddamn thing.

And, naturally, the rest of the night was awkward as fuck.

Axel kept staring at me as we ate silently. Like he was worried I was going to run off to the bathroom as soon as we were done. And this was the reason why I rarely told people that I had an eating disorder. As soon as they knew, they were watching, waiting, and worrying. That didn't help things at all. Talking about my bulimia was supposed to be good for my mental health but I was starting to wonder. Then again, what did I expect with Axel? It’s not like I was talking to Dane or Kayden or someone who was my friend. This guy hated me.

Axel didn't respect me, and honestly, after that conversation with him, I didn't respect him. On the other hand, I knew that if someone had just told me that one of my friends was lying to me, I wouldn’t believe them either.

What else could I do? Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

Somehow, someway, we managed to finish eating and then we went through the checklist of tasks for the fundraiser. Distraction was a color-coded spreadsheet and thank God. We agreed on one thing at least; I’d deal with communications with the league contact and Axel would catalog the donations.

For a first-class asshole, he was surprisingly well-organized.

An hour later, I headed out. I didn’t want to go back to my room and ruminate about Axel or everything I’d admitted to him, so I texted Dane and hung out with him and Jackson in their room. We played video games, and I won all of them, having so much nervous energy to dispel.

Dane gave me questioning looks but I ignored them.

Like Axel, I just couldn’t deal with it in the moment.

I’d almost told Dane everything I’d said to Axel, but I held back. I wasn’t sure why. Spilling my guts to my rival? Sure. But my friend? Nope. I guess I was feeling kind of raw. Dane knew, or rather, I’d told him about Preston and that last year of high school, but I didn’t go into a lot of detail about the eating disorder. Dane knew about it, but he didn’t press me. And I didn’t blurt out everything like I did in that pub tonight. God, I wanted to erase that conversation with Axel from my brain forever. Then again, there was a kind of relief with putting it all out there.

The next day was our usual Tuesday practice.

Usual? Not quite.

Knowing that I was going to see Axel again had me so nervous I was all but shaking in my skates. I'd arrived extra early so I wouldn't run into him, and when Dane spotted me pacing the locker room, he pulled me aside.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve been jittery since last night.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jace.”

“You know I had to meet up with Axel, what do you think?” I asked, lowering my voice and leaning in. “I did something stupid. I told Axel about my bulimia. And about Preston.”

“Oh shit. What did he say?”

I didn’t reply, reliving the conversation in my head.

“Jace?”

“I shocked myself, and him,” I finally whispered. “It all came out. All of it. But it didn’t change anything.”

“He didn’t believe you?” Dane asked.

I shook my head and bit my lower lip.

“Nope. He was pissed. He thinks I'm the one who's a liar. That I treated Preston like shit.”

Dane’s face darkened. It was rare to see him get upset. Not our calm, cool captain.

“Don’t get in the middle, D,” I warned him. “It’s not worth it.”

“Now I'm really worried.”

I bit my lower lip. “I can separate hockey from Axel. On the ice it's a different thing. I promise.”

“You say that, but I know you. And I'm worried for you. As my friend.”

“I appreciate that. But there's nothing to be worried about. I said what I had to say to him and that's it. In a way, I feel better. He knows the truth. If he doesn't want to accept it, like I told him last night, that's his problem. Besides, that's the past. I’m focused on the present.”

“And that's why you're pacing up and down the locker room like you're about to jump out of your gear?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Can you blame me? I have no idea how he’s going to act. Or how I’m going to react to him .”

“Maybe you need to talk to Coach?”

I considered that and nodded. “Let’s see how today goes.”

I didn't want to go to Banning. At this point, I was old enough to figure my shit out. And I didn’t need this drama. Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated? So much for telling the truth. It didn't get me anything in this case. Maybe it would’ve been better if I had just left things alone and continued to let Axel believe the worst of me. Only, I had a bad feeling that by unleashing all that stuff on him, especially the reality about Preston, worse was just the start.

“Jace?” Dane asked, staring at me with concern.

“Sorry,” I replied quickly. “I’m fine. Seriously.”

My friend’s gaze told me he didn’t buy it, but thankfully, he left it at that.

“If you’re not, tell me.”

I nodded and patted his arm gratefully.

“Let’s hit the ice.”

Dane guided me out of the locker room, and we passed several teammates heading in. Still no sign of Axel, which was a total relief. Jesus, this guy was taking up way too much of my headspace lately. I was surprised I could remember to skate and shoot the puck at the same freaking time.

Dane and I headed down the narrow hallway, and I was hit with the familiar wave of ammonia and sweat that lingered in the air. The atmosphere of the rink quelled some of my anxiety. I slid onto the fresh ice, a perfect plane of milky glass, and sighed with pleasure. It was weird but I always loved being the first one to break it in.

This was where I belonged.

When I was growing up, it was just me, my battered skates, and my faraway hockey dreams. Not so far off now. If I could keep my shit together and find a way to deal with Axel. I’d had to work with players I didn’t like at every level, but nothing like him.

Focus on your own game. The rest will fall into place.

I was getting so good at bullshitting myself.

The buzz of fluorescent lights and the echo of our blades scraping the ice cut through my rumination. Then I noticed Coach Banning hovering by the boards, his tablet in hand, furiously writing notes with his stylus. When he glanced up and spotted us, he nodded quickly and went back to writing. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him, or the team. Despite being in my favorite place, a heaviness sat on my chest, the weight of expectations. What if I screwed this up? What if…

Dane nudged me with his stick.

“As your captain, I’m ordering you to get to work,” Dane quipped, and I flipped him off even though I was grateful for the distraction of his teasing.

We warmed up, and then started drills while we waited for the rest of the guys. It was a good ten minutes before our teammates joined us, and by then, I was feeling much more relaxed. Ready to face Coach and the most annoying forward I’d ever played with.

Or, maybe not.

I didn’t need to look around to know that Axel had arrived. For some crazy reason, I was now hyper aware of him, like I’d developed ‘asshole radar’ or something. For sure I recognized the sound of his gait, a skating style that was heavy on the push off and long on the glide. Despite his bulk, his movement was so smooth it was almost silent, like you’d hardly know he was there until he was right up in your face. Like that night on the ice, just the two of us, grappling in this same spot.

I flushed hot but I reasoned it was just the warm-up and shook it off.

There was no way I could avoid him, and I never let anyone intimidate me. I glanced up and watched him head in my direction. His moves were mesmerizing. I was a faster skater, but Axel prowled like our cougar namesake; powerful and ready to strike. Usually, I was the one who did the stalking on the ice, but suddenly, it felt like the tables had turned. When he stopped short, I stared into his midnight blues. Every hair on my body stood on end, my pulse beating frantically.

Whatever I was feeling, it wasn’t just anger.

Oh yes, things were about to get much, much worse.

Axel

Skate past him. Keep going, don't look at him, don't talk to him.

But you have to play with him, idiot.

“Lund, Rowland, get over here!” Coach called out.

Jesus, Banning was going to make me and Jace practice together in front of our team.

This isn’t going to be good.

For the first time in all the years I’d been playing hockey, I considered not attending practice and telling Coach that I was sick. Anything to avoid facing Jace again. Last night's conversation with him was playing like a loop in my head, and it sparked more questions than answers. I'd never let anyone get to me this way. Not even my family members, most of whom couldn’t stand me, and hell, I couldn't stand them. And I'd had time to think about what Jace admitted and the more I thought about it the more uneasy I grew. What if Preston was lying to me all this time? What if our whole friendship was a lie?

The thought of losing my closest friend, hell, my only friend at this point, was crushing. The only thing I should be crushing right now was my game. I should be playing the best hockey of my life. Instead, I was torn up about this whole situation with Preston and Jace and unsure what, if anything, I should say. Should I confront Preston? Or should I just stop texting him. Should I talk to Dane? He knows Jace.

Or maybe, I should just forget everything and pretend like last night never happened…

“Lund!” Coach yelled as he motioned for me to join him near the blue line. “I called your name twice. Get over here. Now!”

There were murmurs and whispers, my teammates chuckling at my complete oblivion to what was going on around me. I hauled ass and headed over to stand beside Jace, making sure that I didn’t get too close, since I didn't want to risk touching him. Not even brushing against his jersey. Which was stupid, I mean, we played hockey for god’s sake. It was inevitable that we’d run into each other.

Hopefully not in the shower.

And where the fuck did that come from? Thinking about Jace, naked and wet, was even more disturbing. Fucking hell.

“Let’s see those passing drills. Show everyone how it’s done,” Banning announced as he glared at me and then Jace.

Move.

Despite the initial awkwardness and my head being fucked up, everything clicked into place when we got going. I was getting better at reading Jace’s cues and he was the same with me. We passed the puck back and forth like we’d played together for years, not months. Maybe Coach had a point about the one-on-one practice time because this, here, now, there was a different kind of synergy between me and Jace. An unspoken understanding. I didn't like it, and I didn't like him, but I couldn't deny that when we pushed the personal shit aside, we played great together. Or, maybe I was just seeing things that weren't there? No, it was true because when we finished up, our teammates clapped and whistled. Even Coach Banning told us we did a great job.

Jace and I rounded the net and came face to face again. With any other player, I would have reached for him, hugged him, or slapped him on the shoulder, or the ass. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. We stood there frozen, inches apart, neither of us reaching for the other but not skating away either. The crackle of tension snapped like a live wire, the pulse of it making me aware of my body in a way that I'd never experienced before. Not on the ice, not off it, and not with anyone. Not even the women I’d fucked.

Holy shit.

I didn't know what was going on here, but whatever it was, it scared me.

And staring into Jace’s eyes, I realized I wasn’t the only one freaking out.