Page 22

Chapter twenty-two

~ DAMIEN~

I left Avery tangled in the sheets this morning, still sleeping soundly, her face half-buried in my pillow. It took everything in me not to wake her up and kiss her until her sleepy little sighs turned into something more. But she needs rest, and I’ve got responsibilities: meetings, schedules, physical therapy, and everything else I’m not in the mood for.

Last night was the first time I admitted it to myself. I’m in love with her. And for once, I didn’t try to fight it. No running, no deflecting. Just truth. And she said it back. I can hear that sweet voice of hers in my head, saying, I’m in love with you, too. The confession is burned into my skin, leaving marks no one can see.

Now, I’m stuck in a meeting I don’t care about, surrounded by people telling me how to spin my fight with Jake into something appropriate for the press. “Heated on-ice rivalry,” they’re calling it like that makes it clean. It wasn’t clean. It was messy and personal, and he deserved every punch I threw. They can call it whatever they want, but I know people won’t buy it.

The manager’s pacing at the head of the room, laying it all out. There will be a couple more interviews, the usual PR bullshit about sportsmanship and competition. Coach is grumbling next to him about keeping my head in the game and off distractions. The word distractions makes Ares throw a hard glance my way. I don’t have to guess what he’s thinking.

But he doesn’t say a damn thing, just leans back in his chair like he’s watching a chessboard unfold, silent until he’s ready to drop a bomb that leaves no survivors.

“Colton,” Coach snaps, his voice dragging me back. “You got it? No more stunts until the end of the season. Keep your nose clean.”

I give a quick nod, just enough to get him off my back. “Got it.”

He sighs, running a hand through his thinning hair. “And where the hell is DiMarco? He’s late for our meeting.”

The Panthers’ gym is buzzing with the usual grind. Players are stretching, lifting, and chatting, the high from the win still holding up. We’re not practicing today. The team is here for physicals, medicals, and some gym time.

The coaches are talking with the manager, toward sorting out the schedule, as they walk out of the gym toward the offices. My teammates are scattered around, working through their checks and getting their equipment inspected—just a normal day. Ares is at the far end, his eyes glued to his phone.

Now that I look around, I notice most of the guys’ noses are buried in their phones as they throw an occasional glance my way.

Why the hell are they looking at me? I catch the buzz in the air. The hushed whispers. The knowing glances.

I’ve got that restless feeling, the one that says something’s coming. I keep telling myself it’s nothing, just nerves, but it’s there. In my gut. The way it twists when you know you’re about to be hit with something you can’t dodge.

“Hey, Colton,” one of the rookies says, looking nervous. “Is it… true?”

“What?” I furrow my brows.

“Not that we’re judging, man,” one of our defensemen says, shaking his head. “We’re just a bit surprised.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap, but before he can answer, I see Ares.

He’s staring down at his phone, his jaw tight. Ares isn’t one to get rattled, so when he’s focused like that, you know something’s off.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Before anyone can answer me, the door slams open, and in walks Rowan, very late and very angry.

Oh, no. Fuck my fucking life.

The room goes quiet. Teammates start whispering, heads turning.

“Uh-oh,” one of the rookies says. “Guess the captain didn’t know about it either.”

I’m past wondering what they’re talking about. The look on Rowan’s face says it all. He knows.

Things are about to get fucking ugly.

“Ooooh,” Lance mutters, eyes flicking from me to Rowan.

“Shit,” another guy says, half-laughing, but it’s not funny. It’s like they’re all watching a car crash about to happen.

Rowan strides in, his presence swallowing the air. His gaze sweeps the room, slow and deliberate, like a predator scanning prey. For a moment, I think he’s going to start yelling, maybe throw a weight across the room, but he doesn’t.

His eyes lock onto mine, and I brace myself.

To my surprise, Rowan doesn’t say a word. He just starts walking, his silence speaking volumes.

He’s pissed.

“Spinning room,” he mutters as he passes me, low and sharp like a blade.

The venom in his tone sends a chill down my spine.

I glance at Ares, hoping for some kind of signal, but an empty bench press greets me instead. He’s gone. Fucking great.

I sigh, running a hand over my face before following Rowan.

The spinning room is dimly lit, the faint hum of air conditioning the only sound. Rowan’s already there, his hands gripping the handlebars of one of the bikes so tightly his knuckles are white. His shoulders are stiff, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

As soon as I step in and close the door behind me, he turns sharply.

“Tell me it isn’t true, Damien.” His voice is low, dangerous.

“What isn’t true?” I keep my tone calm, careful. I don’t know what he’s seen. I have no idea what he knows, so I have to choose my words carefully.

“Cut the crap.” Rowan’s jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “You took her back on the ice,” he growls. “After everything, you had the fucking audacity to put her back on the ice without telling me.”

Okay, so he knows about the skating. How? I still don’t know. But if that’s all he knows, I’m sure I can sort it out.

“I did it because she misses it,” I say evenly. “You would have never allowed it.”

“Damn fucking right, I would have never allowed it,” he growls.

“It’s not your call to make, Rowan,” I say, keeping my voice even.

His hands twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to grab me.

“Don’t fucking test me,” he warns. His face is inches from mine now, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“I’m not testing you. I’m telling you the truth. She wanted to skate, so I took her skating.” I clench my fists, willing myself to stay calm.

Rowan laughs, but there’s no humor in it. He steps back, running a hand through his hair before turning back to me. His eyes are wild, full of betrayal and fury.

“And when did she tell you that?” he snaps. “When you picked her up from the airport or at dinner when you barely exchanged two words?” His eyes narrow, and I feel like I’m being interrogated. “So, tell me, when did Avery have the chance to tell you that? Because I sure as hell wasn’t there to see it.”

“She came to me one night and asked if I could teach her how to skate again,” I explain. “There was nothing more to it, and I was just as stunned to see her as you’d imagine.” All truth.

“And where is she right now, Damien?” He cocks his head to the side. What? “Because she wasn’t in her room, and judging by her bed, no one slept in it.”

I swallow hard, my mind racing. Does he know? Does he really know, or is he piecing things together?

“What exactly are you implying?” I ask carefully.

He lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. His eyes bore into mine, and I know the question before he even says it.

“Did you fuck my sister, Damien?”

The room goes silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a loaded gun.

I hesitate, my mind spinning, but there’s no point in lying. I’m not sure what he’s seen, but I know one thing. I don’t want to lie to my best friend anymore. I hate it. Besides, looking into his eyes, I think he already knows.

“Yes.” I square my shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on.

For a split second, there’s nothing. No sound, no movement. Then Rowan explodes.

His fist connects with my jaw, hard and fast, and I stagger back, barely catching myself.

“You fucking pig!” he roars, charging at me again.

“Shit, man. Wait!”

But he’s relentless. His fists come at me again and again, and I’m too busy trying to block to even think about hitting back.

“How fucking could you?” he yells, his voice raw.

“Hear me out!” I shout, ducking a swing.

His next punch lands squarely on my ribs, and I grunt in pain, stumbling back against the wall.

Rowan doesn’t waste any time. He’s on me in a second, grabbing my collar and shoving me back into the wall. My head hits the hard surface, shooting black spots across my vision, and my breath is knocked out of me.

“You gotta be out of your goddamn mind,” he spits, fists clenched, his face inches from mine. “What the hell were you thinking?”

His voice is raw, the anger radiating off him like a furnace. He’s not the cool, calculated captain anymore. He’s a brother who feels betrayed. And I completely understand him.

“Rowan, calm the fuck down,” I try to say, but my words come out strained.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he growls, his hand tightening around my collar. “You’ve been fucking my sister behind my back, and you think I’m supposed to stay calm?”

His grip tightens. Every muscle in my body is screaming to fight back, but I don’t. He’s pissed, and I deserve this.

“Did you get bored of sticking your dick in every puck bunny around?” His voice is venomous as he slams me against the wall again, using all of his strength. “You decided to fuck with my family now?”

“It’s not like that.” I grit my teeth, the force of the blow making me lose balance.

“Oh, it’s exactly like that,” he snaps, dragging me back to my feet. “Do you fucking have any idea of the disgust I feel?”

“I didn’t—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He slams me into a bike, and my head whips back. I don’t fight him. I won’t. Because right now, I’m not the enforcer. I’m just a guy who fucked up.

“Did you tell her that, huh?” Rowan hisses. “That half of LA’s seen your dick? Do you think she’ll want to have anything to do with you after learning what a whore you’ve always been?”

The words hit like punches—each one landing in the places where I’ve been hiding my own damn feelings.

“Rowan, listen to me.”

“ No .” His voice cracks, and I see the raw pain in his eyes. “You stay the fuck away from her. I’m telling you now. Never again. You don’t touch her, talk to her, or even fucking look at her.”

The door bursts open, and the guys rush in.

“Rowan, man, that’s enough!” one of them shouts, grabbing his arm.

“I’m done here!” Rowan snarls, shoving him away.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” Rowan snarls, his chest pressed into mine. His warning ice-cold.

Dread settles over me, stronger than the pain I feel. I never wanted things to go down like that. I know I have a reputation, so I don’t blame Rowan for lashing out. But it still hurts. Seeing my best friend like that hurts.

I lean against the wall, panting, blood dripping from my nose and split lip. My whole body aches, but I don’t move.

I stay there, breathing hard, my nose bleeding, trying to make sense of the shit storm that just hit me.

Ares walks in a moment later, calm as ever, holding a wet towel and a bag of ice. “ I fucking told you this would blow up in your face, ” he says without a word, his eyes drilling into me.

I sit on the bench along the wall, my head in my hands, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. My teammates linger at a distance behind the open door, pretending not to look, but I feel their eyes.

“You good?” he asks in that calm deep voice of his.

“Fucking peachy,” I mutter, wiping the blood away. “Where the fuck did you go?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“To get ice,” he says, tossing the bag at me. I catch it mid-air and stare at it for a second. Of course, he knew I’d need it.

I can’t help it. I start laughing, the sound strained and bitter. The whole situation is so fucked up, and of course, Ares knew this was coming.

“How the hell did he find out?” I grunt and press the ice to my face.

“Someone saw you.” Ares pulls out his phone and holds it up, showing me the headline. “Damien Colton Getting Cozy with Rowan DiMarco’s Little Sister.”

“Shit.” I feel the ground slip beneath me. The words blur. And then I see it. A photo of Avery and me on the ice, my hands on her waist, and my face an inch away from hers. The second I see the picture, I immediately know who’s behind it. Flashbacks of blonde hair hurrying out of the rink doors flash through my mind.

Well, fuck me sideways. I’m surprised Rowan didn’t lunge at me as soon as he walked through the door. Despite seeing this, he still gave me a head start and a chance to explain myself.

Jesus.

I never thought I’d be in a position where I had to face this shit, not like this.

I close my eyes, the weight of it all crashing down.

Ares hands me the wet towel, and I take it from him before wiping my bloody lip. All I can think about is Avery. How the hell am I supposed to make this right?

He sits beside me, tossing his phone onto the bench. The headline glares up at me again.

“How did this get out?” I ask, my voice rough, though I already know. Jealousy and bitterness are how this got out.

“Does it matter now?” Ares shrugs.

“I need to fix this,” I say with a wince. I don’t feel any major arcades on my face, so that’s good at least. He took it easy on me. If Rowan wanted to, he would have left me with broken bones, but he was holding back. Even after all of this, he was still trying to protect me from himself.

“What you need to do is stay away from Rowan,” Ares says, his tone steel. “He’s not listening right now. If you show up, you’ll make it worse. Stay out of his way until I tell you otherwise.”

The logic lands, but it doesn’t make this any easier. I lean against the wall, my pulse still hammering.

“I’m in love with her, Ares,” I admit quietly. He doesn’t answer right away; he just takes a deep breath.

“Go home,” Ares says after a moment. “Let me deal with Rowan.”

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, staring at the bloody towel in my hands.

“Love doesn’t ask,” he says instead of answering my question. “Rowan is neither stupid nor unjust. But he is stubborn. If you really do love her, it’ll take him some time, but he’ll see it eventually.”

I nod, swallowing the knot in my throat.

“I’ll make him see it,” I say finally. “I’ll make him understand.”