Page 17 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

SEVENTEEN

SAVAGE

Ihate that I have to go home, but Ambrose gets to be there with him all night. The thought burrows its way into my brain over the next few days while I slog through practice and a game. There is no fucking way I can compete with him being there all the time.

I want to ask him to back off, but I know he won’t take that well.

He’s mad at me, and I think he likes Tobi as much as I do.

He probably thinks I’m just playing a game, since I don’t date, but somewhere between trying to piss Ambrose off and getting to know Tobi, things changed. I really like spending time with him.

“You’re distracted today,” Lovelace says halfway through practice.

“It’s been a long week. Busy between games, school, and finding time for interviews. This shit was so much easier when I wasn’t the starting goalie.”

“Well, you’re not fucking allowed to quit on us!”

“I didn’t say I was going to quit. Christ.” It hadn’t even crossed my mind. I couldn’t do that to the guys, even if I didn’t plan on playing past college.

We switch up to drills, and I get back in the goal while the guys work through them. It’s a pretty low-key part of practice while they work on out handling defenders. A couple of guys get shots off, but nothing I can’t defend, leaving me with lots of time in my head.

Why the fuck do I have to like the guy who’s my brother’s fucking roommate?

This feels like a fucking mean joke from the universe.

I don’t want to have to do this because I know it will hurt my mother in the end if I piss off Ambrose more, but I need to lock things in with Tobi.

I want to actually date him, not keep messing around while fucking sharing him with Ambrose.

A puck sails past my helmet, and I know I’ve fucked up.

“Dude,” Ridgeway laughs, stopping right in front of me, spraying me with ice shavings. “You better not be this fucked this weekend. We play the Monsters.”

I shrug it off because I’m not about to show any fucking weakness to these guys. “Calm your fucking tits. I’m allowed to be tired.”

Lovelace comes in, catching the tail end of what I said, giving me a look. “Do you need to go home?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“What’s going on?” Coach Hawke skates over, and now I’m really in for it.

“He’s tired and taking on too much, and you fucking know how goalies are. He’s going to get himself in his head for this weekend,” Lovelace says before I can get a word in.

“I’m fucking fine.”

Coach Hawke glances between us. “You sure?”

“Yes, I missed one shot. It’s not a big deal,” I growl, annoyed at Lovelace for saying shit.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t even that good a shot,” Ridgeway adds.

The wheels in Hawke’s head start spinning, and I don’t like it. “Do you want to go home and get some rest? Maybe go see the team psychologist?”

“No,” I say through my teeth.

“Maybe you should consider it? It can’t hurt,” Lovelace prods, and I know he’s well-meaning, but today, I want to tell him to go fuck himself.

“Can you get off my fucking back?” I get in Lovelace’s face.

He steps up, and he’s my size since he’s a defenseman. “You want to fucking go?”

“Both of you back the fuck off,” Hawke says, getting between us.

Ridgeway and Cox step in to help break us up.

“Get out of here, Savage. You need a break,” Coach Hawke says.

“I’m going to fucking strangle you later,” I mutter at Lovelace, taking my helmet off.

“You know I’m the strangler, not the stranglee, and we can’t both be the strangler…” Lovelace winks.

“Ugh.” If he wasn’t one of my best friends, I’d punch him in the face.

I quickly change and leave the building before I get dragged to see the team psychologist. The last thing I need is to have someone try to get inside my head. I’ve got enough going on in there without someone else poking around.

I pull out my phone, almost to my building, to see what Tobi is up to, and I almost run into someone. I glance up to find Ambrose blocking my way.

“What the fuck?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

“This game has gone on long enough.” He crosses his arms over his massive chest like he’s trying to be intimidating.

I laugh. “What game?”

“With Tobi. I want you to fuck off.” Ambrose says the same thing I’ve been wanting to say to him which doesn’t bode well.

I lift an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t even fucking want him. This has been a way to fuck with me since day one. But it’s getting old. I actually like him.” Ambrose softens, and I could use it to get him to see Mom, but I’m not willing to trade Tobi for that.

“It’s not a game.”

“I fucking know it is. Just tell me what it will take to get you to back off,” Ambrose hisses.

“I’m serious. I like Tobi. I’m not backing off.”

Ambrose grinds his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. “I was already interested in him before you even fucking knew he existed.”

“And?” I ask, not giving him a fucking inch.

“So I get to date him!”

I’m already annoyed, and Ambrose thinking I’d hand him anything just pisses me off more. “Why the fuck do you think you get to lay claim to him?”

“Because you only started this to piss me off.”

I laugh, hard. “That doesn’t fucking matter. I like him.”

“I’m not backing down. So what the fuck are we doing?” Ambrose gets in my face, and as the second person today, I’m already itching for it.

“If I break my hand and we lose this weekend, it’s your fault.”

“Okay, I’ll take the blame. It’s good for my team if you lose,” Ambrose says, lips forming into a huge grin, only making me want to punch him more.

“Fuck you.” I shove him back. “I will fight you for him.”

He staggers one step, caught off guard, but quickly recovers and is back chest to chest. “So we’re fucking fighting this out?”

I look him over and as much as I want to hit him, I know that will only end in Coach Hawke making me see the psychologist, so I keep my hands to myself. “Not physically. We’ll let Tobi pick. May the best man win and all.”

Ambrose scowls. “Fine.”

“No fucking cheating by asking him to go solo with you. You already are cheating by living with him.”

“I’m hardly cheating. I didn’t choose to live with him.”

“You can take my apartment for a couple of weeks, and I’ll take the dorm,” I say like a smart ass.

“Not a fucking chance.”

“I didn’t think so. It’s agreed that’s an advantage.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue.

“Great. And no complaining when I win.”

“You’re not fucking winning.”