Page 22

The hotel hallway is quiet, broken only by the muffled sounds of our teammates talking in the community area.

I stand near the door to my room, scrolling through messages on my phone even though my attention isn’t really on the screen.

Should’ve been thinking about the game. Should’ve been talking strategy with the rest of my line, getting my focus locked in. Instead, my mind is somewhere else.

On Savannah.

What's she doing right now? Is she back at Luke's club being paraded around like merchandise?

Will she sleep in her car again tonight, curled up in that makeshift bed while creeps lurk in parking lots?

I hated leaving it the way I did, but she didn't give me any other option except physical restraint, and I'm not that guy.

I don't even have her phone number, so I can't text her and make sure she's okay, though that prehistoric brick she calls a phone probably doesn't even get texts.

Getting her digits is the first thing I plan on doing when I get back, even if I have to corner her in class to do it.

Scotty brushes past me, and I stop him in his tracks.

“Hey, Scotty.”

He hides his phone faster than a teenager caught watching porn before looking over his shoulder at me.

If he thought I was going to mock him for the full-sized picture of that girl he's been obsessing over on his screen, he'd be wrong.

How can I make fun of him when I've got it just as bad?

When I'm practically counting the hours until I can get back to campus and hunt down a girl who's actively running from me?

“What’s the room situation? Who’s my partner tonight?”

Scotty grins without looking up. “Same as always. You’re with Dash.”

“Really?”

Scotty doesn’t say anything. Just grins like an idiot. Fucking fantastic. The idea of spending the night in close quarters with Dash doesn’t exactly thrill me. I can’t hide anything from him. Never could. He’ll know something is wrong the second I walk in and unlike Madison, he’ll pry it out of me.

“Switch me,” I say immediately, bracing for the response I know is coming.

“No can do.” Scotty shrugs. “It’s alphabetical.”

“So? We can switch. Let’s do it by line instead. I’d love to spend the night with you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sorry. Everyone else is already in their rooms. Plus,” he adds, raising an eyebrow, “I think you two need to talk things through.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” My jaw locks, the tension I’ve barely been holding in almost ready to snap. “We’re fine.”

“Whatever you say.” His tone makes it clear he believes exactly none of it.

“But if you two don’t figure out your shit soon, it’s going to bleed into the games.

We need you both at your best tomorrow.” He claps a hand on my shoulder before heading toward his own room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stand there for a moment, debating whether to just suck it up or find an excuse to stay somewhere else. But deep down, I know Scotty’s right. This tension with Dash is getting old, and it’s not doing any of us any good. He’s my best friend and as much as I hate to admit it, I need his advice.

With a resigned sigh, I head to my room and push the door open a crack.

“If your foam roller’s out, I kindly request you stop all foreplay with it,” I say because that’s something I would have said to my friend before all this drama happened between us.

“Cade?” His voice is gruff, but I don’t hear a lot of movement, so that’s a relief. At least he’s not cheating on Madison with that damn thing.

When I step inside, Dash is stretched out on his bed, phone in hand, and was no doubt texting my sister. I guess I could consider myself lucky. Now that Madison has him to occupy her time, my phone doesn’t get nearly as many messages from her.

He tosses his phone to the side. “Hey,” he says, his tone cautious.

“Don’t stop texting Madison on my account,” I reply, dropping my bag on the other bed.

Dash grumbles, and yeah, I probably shouldn’t mention the betrayal every time I talk to him, but I don’t know. I can’t help it. It’s like picking at a scab that’s almost healed just to watch it bleed again.

Silence stretches between us. Thick and loaded with all the things we’re not saying, and I choose not to say anything else as I know I’ll make it worse. Besides, I’ve got bigger problems than my sister’s sex life.

Dash is the first one to break it.

“It’s fine. She’s just sending me pictures of your dog wearing another outfit.”

Mhm. That's different. Normally, he shuts up completely when I remind him of the little fact that they're dating, like I've pressed a mute button labeled 'guilt.' He's leaning into it now, accepting it instead of hiding.

“Oh?” That piques my interest. “Still the Christmas one?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. It’s an anglerfish this time. She said she wanted Stanley to be ready for when the time comes.”

I hold back a laugh. Of course she’s already planning for my NHL career. Our NHL career. The one I’d planned with my best friend, my ‘brother’ before he decided he wanted to look into making that a real thing.

Dash clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Cade.”

Sitting on my bed, I look at him. “For?”

“Not coming to you first when things started to progress with me and Madison.”

“Are we back to that again?” I wave him off. “I already told you I’m fine with it.” To be fair, I think that statement is becoming truer by the day. I haven’t thought about Madison and Dash kissing once since this conversation started.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

I let out a slow breath and rub the back of my neck as I try to find the right words.

Am I angry? Not anymore. That dissipated pretty quickly after how happy they made each other.

I love them both. “It’s just… different now.

” I meet his gaze. “You’re my best friend.

The one person I could talk to about anything, and now you’re with my sister, telling her about Savannah before I’ve had time to process shit. ”

“Fuck.” Dash drops eye contact.

“You know Madison. She’s already planning my wedding with a girl who doesn’t want anything to do with me and it’s just weird.”

Dash sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on anything happening with Madison. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t want to screw up our friendship.”

Little does he realize that statement alone makes me feel like an asshole. Was I the only thing holding them back from each other all these years?

“Understood.”

“I’m sorry I told her about Savannah. It was only because she was asking why you were acting so shifty recently. I told her not to mention it to you, though.”

“Yeah, well, I’m surprised you haven’t already learned that my sister is one of the biggest blabbermouths on the planet. She can’t keep a secret to save her life. Besides, she couldn’t exactly not ask questions. Savannah was at my apartment when she came over today.”

“What?”

“Oh, surprising. Maybe Madison doesn’t tell you everything after all.”

“Maybe not.”

“Yeah, well, Madison walked right in on Savannah having breakfast.”

“Did you sleep together? I thought things were pretty much over after she sold the tickets you gave her.”

I hesitate, debating whether I should go into details, but then I shake my head. This is Dash. Talking to him is the best thing I can do. “She didn’t sell them. They were taken from her. When I tried to confront her about it, I found out she’s living in her car.”

“No way?”

“She says it isn’t permanent. That her apartment is getting fumigated, but I don’t believe her.”

“So you offered her a place to stay?”

I nod. “Yeah. I thought I might be able to convince her to stay longer. Maybe get a little more information out of her, but she bailed on me this morning after Madison came over. Claimed she had some stuff to do, and her apartment would be free tonight. I’m almost certain it was a lie, though.”

Dash runs his hand down his face. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

I shake my head. “No. She’s tough and has clearly been through a lot, but she works for Luke, which is an immediate red flag. Something about the way she left today felt… off. Almost like she’s running from something.”

Dash quietly contemplates my predicament for a moment.

Then he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Maybe she just needs time to understand you’re not a threat.

Some people don’t know how to accept help.

The fact she agreed to come to your apartment at all shows she’s got some level of trust in you.

Maybe you just need to keep building on that and eventually she’ll open up. ”

I nod because it all sounds logical. I’m just an impatient asshole, and I know the gnawing feeling in my stomach won’t go until I can see with my own eyes.

“Cade,” Dash warns under his breath. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t push it with her.”

I raise my hands, laughing humorlessly. “Believe me, I can’t push anything with her. I don’t even know her number.”

His brows furrow. “How is that even possible? Aren’t you in the same study group? I thought that would be a requirement.”

I shake my head. “Nope. We meet at the same time every week. There’s never been a need to. Believe me, I suggested it enough times.”

“Are you going to try to talk to her again when we get back?”

I nod. “Oh, yeah.”

“Thought so. You’re like Stanley with a bone when you want something,” he jokes, and I laugh a little bit.

The tension between us hasn’t vanished. Not completely, but something’s shifted.

Maybe Scotty was right. Not that I’d ever let him know about it.

“I really hope it works out for you, C. You deserve to be happy and if it’s with her, all the better. ”

“Thanks,” I say, tipping my chin to the phone behind him. “Now I’d suggest you message my sister back before she calls me asking where you are.”

He looks over his shoulder at his phone and lets out a low chuckle. “She can wait another few minutes.”

“She can, but I’m exhausted, and I need to sleep before my head explodes thinking about Savannah.” I take my shoes off and relax against the headboard.

“She’ll come around. Timing is everything, just like on the ice. You need to pick your moment to strike with her.”

I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about the prospect of her sleeping arrangements tonight. Damn it. I wish she’d just let me help her. “Thanks for listening, D.”

Dash gives me a small smile. “Anytime, man. And thanks for being cool with me and Madison. I, uh, really like her.”

He shifts, uncomfortable with the words. That’s because I know he loves her.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, grabbing my gear and getting ready to call it a night. “Just don’t screw it up.”

Dash laughs, the tension finally breaking. “I’ll do my best.”

As I lie back on the bed, I feel a little lighter for talking things through with Dash.

Things aren’t perfect between us, but at least I don’t feel like I’m carrying it all alone anymore, and maybe that’s the point.

Maybe I need to remember that before I can save anyone else, I need to learn how to accept help myself.

The lights are off, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence in the hotel room. I’m flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, willing my mind to shut the hell up for once.

It doesn’t.

I haven’t stopped thinking about Savannah in hours, not that I’ve tried that hard to stop.

Honestly, I like thinking about her. Her in my shirt.

Her in my home. In my fucking heart. She has it all and has no idea what to do with it.

Or worse, she knows exactly what she has and is running from it because she thinks she doesn't deserve it.

Doesn't deserve me. And that's the part that keeps me awake, staring at hotel ceilings and wondering how to convince her she's worth everything I want to give her.

Dash is on the other bed, his phone casting a faint glow across the room as he types away. His face is slack and he has this easy, stupid little smile on his face. I roll my eyes, knowing Madison is the reason for it.

I watch him for half a second before looking away. Not because I’m mad, but because of the twist of jealousy I feel. Dash has someone. Someone to text in the middle of the night. Someone to care about. Someone to miss.

Me? I have an empty bed, save for my fluffy friend, to come home to, and a brain that won’t fucking quit thinking about a girl I’m kind of stalking.

Savannah’s face slips into my thoughts. Uninvited this time, but I let it stay.

Where is she sleeping right now?

The thought of her curled up alone in the back seat of her half-frozen car makes it hard to relax. Thinking about her seeking refuge with Luke is worse.

I roll onto my side with a sigh, pulling the blanket higher over my shoulder as if it could shield me from my own thoughts.

There's no point thinking about her. She doesn't have my number, so it's not like she can call me if she's in danger, anyway.

Dammit. Why didn't I give it to her before she left?

Practically force it into her hand? Would she have accepted it?

No. She wouldn't. She's too hell-bent on acting like she doesn't need anyone else's help, too determined to drown with dignity rather than accept a life preserver. Even though I know she's barely keeping her head above water. Even though I know she's one bad night away from sinking completely.

Dash lets out a quiet laugh, probably at something Madison sent him, and my jaw tightens.

There he goes again, inadvertently flaunting how happy he is.

I exhale sharply, shutting my eyes and forcing myself to stop. To focus. We have a big game tomorrow against the St. Michael’s Storm, and I need sleep.

But as I lie there, listening to the rhythmic tapping of Dash’s fingers against his screen, my mind refuses to shut off.

Because no matter how hard I try to push the thought away, I want what he has. That effortless connection, that feeling of belonging to someone. And for some stupid, inexplicable reason, the only person I can picture in that role is Savannah.

The girl who keeps pushing me away.

The girl who looks at me like I’m getting too close to something she doesn’t want me to see.

The girl who’s hiding something.

But what? What could be so terrible that she’d rather sleep in her car than let someone help her? What has Luke done to make her so afraid?