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J ake is furious.

I see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the way his fists tighten at his sides, in the way his entire body is practically vibrating with anger.

I know my brother. This isn’t the kind of anger that flares up and burns out. This is the kind that simmers, builds, destroys.

He levels me with a look so sharp I almost feel it. “Tell me I’m wrong, Kenz.”

I lift my chin. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Wrong answer.

Jake scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You don’t owe me an explanation? You’re my little sister, and you’re flirting with my coach. What else are you doing—sleeping with him?”

Behind me, Grant is silent.

Not stepping in. Not interfering. Just standing there, calm as ever, watching this unfold like he’s letting me fight my own battles.

And I appreciate it. I do. But right now, I don’t need his patience. I need my brother to back the hell off.

I cross my arms. “It’s none of your damn business, Jake.”

His head jerks back like I just slapped him. “Like hell it isn’t!”

His words bounce off the empty rink walls—sharp, impossible to ignore.

And suddenly, I realize how many people are probably still lingering nearby, how many ears might be hearing this entire conversation.

But Jake doesn’t care. Because right now it’s just him and me.

And from the way his chest rises and falls with each angry breath? He’s not letting this go. Jake’s glare shifts to Grant, his anger rolling off him in waves.

“She’s twenty-six. You’re forty. What the hell are you thinking?”

Grant doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shift. Doesn’t react at all. He just meets Jake’s fury with calm, unreadable control.

“I’m thinking she’s a grown woman who can make her own choices. Maybe you should realize that, too.”

Jake’s fists tighten. “This isn’t a choice. This is you taking advantage.”

My head snaps up, rage exploding through me.

“Oh, screw you, Jake! No one is taking advantage of me.”

Jake’s eyes burn into mine. “You don’t get it, Kenz. You think this is just fun? A hookup? He’s got a kid. He’s got an ex. He’s got a life you don’t even understand. A past.”

The words hit like a slap. Not just anger in them—something deeper. Something closer to concern.

And that’s what makes my stomach tighten. He’s not just pissed about the age gap. He’s pissed because he doesn’t think I know what I’m getting into.

But it’s too late for him to play the protective big brother.

I lift my chin, my pulse hammering. “I don’t need you to make decisions for me, Jake.”

His jaw clenches. “And what happens when this gets messy? Because it will. This isn’t just some casual thing, Kenz.”

I open my mouth to snap back. But then he throws out the real bomb.

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Tight, clipped. Like he’s barely holding it together.

And when I frown, confused, he turns to Grant. “Tell her.”

And just like that, the energy in the room shifts. Because for the first time since this started Grant actually looks tense.

The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. Grant doesn’t look away from Jake. But something changes in his expression.

His usual calm? His unreadable, steady composure? It fractures.

Not much. Not enough for Jake to see it. But I see it. And that’s what makes my stomach tighten.

“Grant,” I say carefully. “What is he talking about?”

Slowly, his gaze shifts to me.

And that’s when I know.

This is big. This is something he should have told me already.

Something that’s about to change everything.

He exhales slowly, his jaw ticking once before he finally says it.

“The year I took off of hockey wasn’t just because of my divorce. I was the head coach and I got into a fist fight with a player in the locker room.”

“He was suspended, Kenz. He lost his cool and whopped a player.” He glares at Grant. “Not cool. Had to go into anger management therapy and everything.”

Everything inside me stops.

My breath. My pulse. My ability to think.

Jake’s words hit different now. He was suspended from the league. This is big. They don’t do something like that without a good reason. Can I even trust this guy?

I stare at him, words failing me, my throat tight and dry.

“And you weren’t going to tell me?”

His fingers flex at his sides. “I was. Just not like this.”

Jake scoffs. “See? He wasn’t even going to tell you.”

I ignore him, my focus still locked on Grant.

“How bad? How bad was the fight?”

His lips press together for half a second before he answers.

“Broken nose for him. Cracked rib for me.”

What the actual fuck. A grown man who solves problems with violence? Then I remember where I am—in the rink of an NHL team. The league took him back. Hired him as coach. So maybe…?

Jake slices through the tension. “He comes with baggage, Kenz. A lot of it.”

And honestly? I don’t have a response. Because I don’t know what to do with this.

I don’t know what this changes. But I do know one thing. This just got a whole lot more complicated.

I don’t know how long I stand there. I don’t know how long the weight of his words presses down on me, heavy and suffocating.

All I know is that I can’t breathe.

The cold from the rink seeps into my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the icy realization settling in my chest.

This isn’t just a hookup. This isn’t just a bad idea I can walk away from without consequences.

Grant has a whole damn history I knew nothing about.

And I’m standing here, staring at him like I have any business being in it.

“Say something.”

He’s calm. Careful. Every word chosen with precision.

But I hear it. The crack underneath. I want to say something.

I want to ask him why he kept this from me.

I want to demand to know what else I don’t know.

I want to understand why this feels like the ground just shifted beneath me.

But I can’t. Because I don’t even know what I’m feeling yet. So I swallow hard, force my spine straight, and tell him the only thing I can.

“I need time to think.”

The words are barely above a whisper, but they land like a brick between us.

Grant doesn’t move.

Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t chase.

He just watches me. And for the second time since this whole thing started…

I walk away first.