“Like I said, we’ve all been on edge,” Kayden said, “and it’s almost over. Just one more game. I still have to say it’s shitty that you wouldn’t be more supportive.”
“I have been supportive. Where the hell have you been?”
“Are you on drugs, bro? Besides, the whole thing is stupid. You’re starting a fight over the way I eat within days of the biggest hockey game of our lives.”
“It’s not the way you eat. That’s just a symptom.”
“Yeah, that makes it so much better.”
“And now you’re blaming me for everything. Real cool, Kayden. Real cool.”
His hands slammed down onto the table hard enough to make the silverware jingle. He withdrew them instantly like he’d never meant to do that. Apparently, I drove him that nuts.
“Look,” he said, “we’ll have plenty of time for arguments like this once the game is won and we’ve got the national championship trophy in our hands. Shit, maybe it won’t even matter anymore because we’ll be too busy reveling in glory. You know, if you’re not too thick-headed to realize a good thing when it happens to you.”
“Fuck off, Kayden.”
Those two magical words sealed it. We’d said a lot of things to each other, but never that. He sat there like he didn’t know what to say.
I stood up, leaving dinner behind, and headed for the door.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Wherever the hell I want. Free country.”
At first, Kayden didn’t stand, like maybe he didn’t really think I would walk out on him like that. Only when I slipped my shoes on and reached for the doorknob did he pop up. He darted for the door with all the speed and grace you’d expect from any hockey player. When I pulled the door open, his hand clamped down on mine. I stared down at his hand but didn’t pull away—yet.
“Dude, you can’t walk out of an argument like this.”
“Watch me.”
And I headed out the door.
Yeah, I know that’s not how I usually react, but that’s what I did. I’d had all I could take. When I walked out the door, I knew I needed to get away from Kayden just for now. That he had a leg up in the argument didn’t help, but there’s more. I couldn’t handle the idea that a championship could separate us, and then he would be drafted and out of my life forever.
When I got in my car and drove away, I realized that was exactly what was happening.
44
KAYDEN
Itexted Erik to tell him I was coming over. He didn’t answer. I didn’t give a shit. He couldn’t just walk out of an argument like that. Okay, fine, I know I’d really pushed my luck with him, but I couldn’t be left hanging like that. I needed closure. There’s nothing criminal about that. Add our present circumstances with game seven coming up, and I think my actions were more than understandable.
Erik’s place was in the Black Rock neighborhood, which sat on the edge of the Westside where I lived. Even still, it didn’t take me long to get there at all. When I parked my car, I checked my phone again and saw that he hadn’t answered. God, that was so Erik De Ruiter of him.
I opened the side door and headed up the stairs toward his apartment and knocked on the door. At first, he didn’t answer. Of course not. Why would he stop being a pain in the ass now?
So, I knocked again, this time a little harder. And then a little harder yet. Finally, my boyfriend opened the door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m here to finish the argument you started. What do you think?”
And I marched past him into the apartment. His jaw fell open, adding to his shock.
“What the hell are you doing? This is creepy, Kayden. Don’t you get it?
“Creepy? Yeah, that’s really nice, bro. I want to settle this like men, smooth things over, move on to bigger and better things, and there you go with the name-calling.”
