Page 12
Although I like to think things are slowly getting better with my best friend, it doesn’t mean I enjoy watching him carrying my sister around the ice while she giggles and nuzzles into his neck, acting like he just earned a shutout and she’s his personal trophy.
They’re sharing secret whispers. Smiling like goofy teenagers.
They look like they’re having the time of their lives, and for some reason, it annoys the hell out of me.
“Guess she didn’t show up,” Scotty says from behind. His voice is low enough that only I can hear his pity-laced observation.
“Doesn’t matter.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
I skate around Scotty, heading to the gate because I wasn’t about to rip my heart out on the ice for everyone to see.
I’d played one of the best games of my life, hoping she’d be here, and she wasn’t.
Now I feel stupid for even thinking she might come, or that this might end in any other way than confirming she’s with Luke.
I don’t say a word as I skate around Dash and Madison, rolling my eyes because watching them together is like pouring salt directly into my open wound.
“You coming to grab food with us?” Dash calls over his shoulder as he helps Madison off the ice, as if I want to be the third wheel on their love mobile.
“Nah, I’m good,” I say. “I need to get back and check on Stanley.” At least I know I have him waiting for me when I get home. Seeing him is the best part of my day, and when I take him out for walks, he appreciates it.
I turn away and head toward the locker room. I need space. Space to cool off, space to stop thinking about how fucking empty the stands looked without Savannah in them.
As I peel off my sweat-soaked gear in the quiet of the locker room, I can’t shake the nagging feeling of disappointment lodged between my ribs. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter whether she came or not, it wasn’t going to end any other way. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though.
“Whatever,” I mutter under my breath, shoving my skates into my bag. It’s not like I can do anything about it now. With my bag over my shoulder, I head out of the locker room and stuff my hands in my sweatshirt once I leave the rink.
“Cade.” His voice is unmistakable, slithering into my ears like poison.
My fist clenches inside my pocket hard enough to turn my knuckles white as I turn. Everyone else left at the end of the game, but he’s still here, lurking in the dark shadows, and I have no doubt it’s because he’s waiting for me.
“Luke.”
His smile stretches unnaturally wide as he takes a step toward me. I don’t back away. That would show he has power over me, and he doesn’t. “Hell of a game you played out there tonight.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“It’s almost like you were hoping to impress someone.”
He searches my face, watching for any tick of a reaction that I’m not going to give him.
“Is there something you want?”
“Nope. Just wanted to thank you for the tickets.”
“I didn’t give you those tickets.”
“No, but you gave them to Scarlett, didn’t you?”
Does he call her by her stage name outside, or is that for my benefit? I try not to flinch at the mention of her, but his side grin tells me I’ve failed spectacularly. Then, as if I needed more confirmation, he points at me.
“Knew it. The minute you stepped on the ice, you couldn’t stop looking my way. Probably looking for my sweet little Scarlett.”
My sweet little Scarlett? This guy deserves a hockey stick straight to his teeth.
“Why’d you give them to her?”
I don’t want to answer him, but I also don’t want Savannah to get any blowback from my misguided attraction to her.
“Thought she deserved a night out.” Away from you, I don’t add.
“ With you ?” His brows rise and he pushes out a laugh. “Did getting beat up by my guys give you a brain injury or something? That’s got to be the only reason you’d think it was a smart move to mess with one of my girls.”
One of my girls.
My fists clench, and I hold myself back from breaking his nose.
I can’t.
I shouldn’t.
I want to, though.
Savannah isn’t one of his girls . She’s not some possession he can add to his collection of broken women. She’s more than that. So much more, and if this piece of garbage has manipulated her into thinking she belongs to him, then I’ve got to help her out.
“How many girls you got right now?”
“Come to the bar and find out,” he says with a smirk. “I could even arrange a little private dance for you and Scarlett. She’s never been in the rooms before, but happy to change that for you.”
My stomach drops. This doesn’t sound like a boyfriend. This sounds like a pimp.
“She’s quite something when she’s up on the stage, isn’t she?
Not the best dancer, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for in those eyes.
They’re haunted. Men eat that shit up.” He leans closer.
“If you want her, just say the words. You know the rules, though. Look but don’t touch.
You remember what happened to your friend Connor when he messed with my property, don’t you? ”
“Connor?” It takes me a minute to realize he’s talking about Coach McKibbon’s second-string son. Terrible hockey player. Even worse person. “Wouldn’t call him a friend, but your point is made.”
“We miss you at the bar, you know? My customers always love watching you beat the shit out of your opponent. Seeing you on the ice today made me realize where you learned it.” He walks past me and slaps me on the shoulder like we’re old pals. “See you soon, Cade.”
I let him walk away, my mind racing over the words and their implications. He offered her up to me like she’s his merchandise. There’s no way in hell a girl would date a guy who spoke about her like that.
Which can only mean there’s something more happening, and even though I should probably mind my own business, I won’t. I’d rather find out what’s going on with Savannah once and for all, even if it means walking straight into the lion’s den.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
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- Page 3
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- Page 6
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- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
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- Page 57
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- Page 70