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"Sure looked like something to me," I respond, looking away with my lips pressed into a tight line. "She’s been trying to get me to hang out since I got here. I told her I was heading to the bar, and she followed me."

"Why would I care?" I glare at him, turning to face him fully. "We aren’t together, right?"

"Brooke."

"No, you said you weren’t having fun anymore, so whatever it was is over, and you’re moving on."

"I’m not moving on." He squeezes my hips like he always used to, and while I loved it then, I hate it now because it reminds me that I’m not his to keep close anymore.

"Well, I think you really should," I reply, pushing against his chest with frustration. He relaxes his grip and takes a step back, giving me some space.

"I want to talk to you," he insists, his voice earnest.

A surge of anger wells up inside me. Why couldn’t he have reached out after that night instead of waiting two long weeks?

"You could have come to me any time in the past two weeks," I shoot back, pushing against him once more.

This time, he takes another step back, clearly sensing the tension between us.

"Instead, my supposed best friends completely ignored me, and the guy I thought would become my boyfriend suddenly ended things.

It feels like everyone just turned away. "

" I've been a jerk."

"You think so?" I scoff. I’m not a toy he can pick up whenever he wants. I've been here waiting, and for the first time in two weeks, I'm finally enjoying myself. I'm not going to let him ruin it. "Leave me alone."

"Brooke." He looks at me pleadingly, and I almost give in because I’ve wanted to talk to him so badly the past two weeks. But his need to prioritise hockey hurts me.

I would never stand in the way of hockey after everything he’s told me about the pressure he feels. I could never make things harder for him. We could have discussed a way to make it work. It was fine when we were just having "fun," so what changed so drastically?

"Grant, just leave me alone." My voice wobbles, yet I hold strong. I can’t do this with him right now, and he looks at me sadly.

"If you're sure." He’s always respected what I wanted, and that hasn’t changed.

"I am." I nod, looking away from him. If I look at him again, I know I’ll give in and let him talk, and I don't want to do that with him tonight.He had his time and now I need mine. He walks down the hallway, and I lean back against the wall, letting loose the breath I had been holding.

"I'm still mad at you, but are you okay?" Cami's voice comes from the girls' bathroom door, and I look up to see her leaning in the doorway across from me.

"No," I reply. "I'm not."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?" I scoff and walk down the hallway back to the bar.

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice," she says, following me.

"I don't want you to be nice just because you feel sorry for me, Cami," I say, frustrated, turning back before we reach the main bar. "I want you not to be mad at me anymore."

"I can't just pretend I’m not hurt," she pouts, crossing her arms and cocking her hip defensively.

"I know! And I'm not asking you to, because I messed up; I did something wrong. I just want you to hear me out and know how sorry I am," I let out in exasperation.

"Why didn't you tell me, B?" she asks, looking down disappointedly. "You tell me everything."

"I thought you would judge me for it. You have such a strong opinion about him sleeping around. I didn't want you to think I was just another stupid hookup."

"I would never think you were stupid, B. I might have judged a little, but we could have talked about it."

"Well, I know that now." Sighing, I say, "I got so caught up in it that when it turned into more than just sleeping together, I got worried about how you'd take it, and then it just got away from me."

"So it was more than just hooking up?" she asks, leaning against an empty table. I move to lean next to her.

"It was never just hooking up, I don't think." I play with the edge of my sweater dress. "Do you ever feel like someone just fits you, like you don't have to think about it you just are?"

"Yeah," she hums, then looks at me and squeezes my hand. "I always felt that way with us."

"Me too." I squeeze back tightly. "I'm sorry, Cam."

She nods against me, and we hold each other a bit longer. We've been apart before, but never without talking like this.

"So, now I’d have to share you with Grant?" she huffs, kicking my shoe with hers. I laugh sadly, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry, B." She pulls me in for a hug, and I accept it. "If it’s any consolation, he's at the guy's apartment staying in every night."

"So that's where you were going?" I snort. We step back from each other, and I worry she might walk away.

"Are you here with other girls?" she asks, looking away as if she’s not bothered.

"Cami." I laugh and pull her back in for another hug. "Come on." I led her behind me into the main bar, over to the girls. Savannah still has Adam’s attention while Bear is chatting with Gunnar. He notices me and Cami together and comes over to hug me.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair. "Bear pointed out that I've been a jerk for not checking in on you."

"You're forgiven," I say, nodding at him when we pull away. "I'm sorry about everything, too, and thanks for looking after Cami."

"She's been a handful, I won't lie." He covers his mouth to whisper to me.

"Hey." She playfully slaps his arm as Savannah approaches us.

"You remember Cami, right?" I introduce them just in case, hoping they get along.

"Yes! I meant to ask you the night we went out. Where was your skirt from? I loved it," Savannah says excitedly, and just like that, I see Cami relax.

A couple of hours pass, and I'm tipsy and happy with my friends. I can’t help but glance around for Grant now and then, but I don’t spot him.

Why am I disappointed? I told him to leave.

Like someone summoned him, he suddenly appears. He whispers something to Gunnar, whose eyes widen, and then he walks over and grabs Adam's shoulder while he’s talking to Savannah and me.

"We've got to head to the rink," Gunnar says.

“Did you hit your head? We lost. Let us commiserate in peace,” Adam whines. “Grant, tell him.”

“We all need to go to the rink now,” Grant states with authority. It’s hot. Damn, why is he so attractive? Tipsy Brooke is starting to break through. I need to stop drinking.

“You too, Brooke,” he says, looking directly at me. Hot, so hot.

“Um, no,” I reply, trying to keep it short while looking away, attempting to ignore how flustered he makes me. “I said everything I needed to earlier.”

He lightly grabs my arm and moves us away from the group a bit. Leaning down to whisper in my ear, making me shiver, he says, “Brooke, please, I'll explain it all outside.”

He stands back up to his full height, and I instantly miss his closeness. His face is tight, and he looks more stressed than I've ever seen him. Whatever he needs us for seems serious.

“Okay,” I nod slowly, then walk toward the door, knowing he will follow.

Once outside into the chilly January air, I noticed his Jeep parked out front, making me think he had left earlier after I asked him to. Turning to him, I see him standing with his hands in his pockets, the rest of the team trailing behind him.

“Someone vandalised the rink,” he says loudly enough for everyone to hear. “It needs to be kept quiet for now, but we need to head over there immediately.”

“And why did you need to tell me that, Captain?” I shrug at him as the team begins to disperse to check out the rink and see the damage.

“Brooke.” He looks down at me sadly, and then it dawns on me.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “The Drop.”