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RHETT

Austin, TX, USA

“What are you so afraid of?”

I don’t have to turn my head to know who’s asking.

I’d know that voice anywhere.

My grip tightens around my hockey stick.

“Sutty?”

Bennett steps into my line of sight, blocking out the chaos of green and black practice jerseys slicing across the ice.

He’s impossible to ignore now. Intentional, like always.

“I’m just soaking it all in, Jamesy,” I tell him, keeping my tone light. “Can’t I take a minute?”

“You’ve been taking ten.” His voice is quiet, but firm. “We both know you’re not shy, Rhett. What’s going on?”

Stepping onto the ice is muscle memory for me—natural as breathing.

But it’s different this time. Everything feels wrong.

“What do they know?” I ask, voice low. “About why I left? About why I’m really here?”

“They know you needed a new home,” he says without missing a beat.

“And?”

“And I told them you belonged here.”

My jaw tightens. “That’s it? No questions?”

He hesitates, glancing away. “They trust me.”

Wow.

What’s that like?

“So now it’s your turn,” Bennett says softly. “Trust yourself.”

I huff out a dry laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

Sure.

And maybe I’ll solve world peace while I’m at it.

“You didn’t answer me,” he presses. “What are you so afraid of?”

I press my tongue to the inside of my cheek, staring past him. My throat feels tight when I finally speak.

“What if you’re wrong? What if I don’t deserve their trust?”

Don’t deserve anything.

“What if I don’t belong here?”

Not here. Not anywhere.

“What if…” I clear my throat. “What if I fuck it all up?”

Again. Like I do everything.

“What if they don’t buy it? What if… they see me?”

The real me.

The one they’d never dream of putting in front of a camera ? —

FLASH.

I think I’m blind.

I might be deaf too.

Or at least it feels that way as a wall of cameras fires off in my face and dozens of voices scream my name.

It’s like I’m in one of those movie scenes where the bomb goes off.

Everything slows down.

The light’s too bright.

The sound twists into static—just a high-pitched screech that drills into your skull until it makes your teeth ache.

Your chest tightens.

Your pulse races.

And then?—

It ends.

The scene cuts. The movie moves on.

But I don’t get to move on.

Because this is where I live now.

This isn’t a movie I’m watching.

I’m in the scene—cast against my will as the main character.

I’m in the goddamn explosion.

And the bomb going off is my life.

A voice breaks through suddenly, sharp and clear in the chaos:

“ Sutty? ”

I spin toward it instinctively.

Except—it’s not real.

It’s in my head, echoing back from almost ten years ago.

“Sutton,” a sharper voice cuts from my left. This one is real.

This one drags me back fast and hard.

I turn.

Coach Barrett’s eyes are locked on mine—icy, narrowed, and definitely not amused.

“Sorry, Bear,” I manage, my voice rough.

“Are you with us or not, Sutton?” he asks.

Not.

Definitely not.

But then I hear it.

Bennett’s voice in my head.

The best friend who believed in me.

The one who left and put this weight in my hands on his way out the door.

I never wanted this.

Captain. Face of the team.

Leader.

But now it’s mine.

The room sharpens into focus.

The questions. The reporters. The pressure crushing my chest.

And then?—

My eyes land on her.

At the back of the room.

Staring straight at me.

Something I’ve wanted for a long time.

Something I was stupid enough to dream I might be able to have.

But I can’t.

Not before. And especially not now.

She’d finish me before I even start.

What kind of fucked up does it make me if that only makes me want her more?

“Sutton?”

My head snaps back, my gaze shifting.

I meet eyes again.

The same eyes as hers.

“I’m here.”