I drag a hand through my hair. "I wanted to, but her father was there, and the way he was looking at Lilac, I didn’t put it past him trying to snatch her up and take off with her while I was occupied with Adam," I mutter, turning back to Hayden. "Someone followed us up to their house, though. When we got back to the house, Lilac got a text from an anonymous number."
Tristan straightens, jaw tightening. "Why do you think they followed you?"
I grit my teeth. "Because they knew we had sex and where. Only someone who was there would know."
Hayden makes a face. "Her brother?"
I shake my head. "If it were him or her parents, they’d have said something when we were arguing the next morning. The fucker, Vincent, only wanted to marry her because she was a virgin, so I’m sure they would have been livid if they knew."
Both of them recoil like I punched them in the face.
Tristan groans. "God, that’s disgusting."
Hayden nods in agreement, and then, just because I’m in a mood and I want to see Hayden’s head explode, I throw out, "Yeah, I’ve been waiting for Lilac for a long time. I guess it’s time I come clean with you guys." I cock my head to the side and look for my cleanest exit from this row because when I say what I’mabout to say, Hayden is absolutely going to try and murder me. “You know all the bullshit I gave you for being a virgin before you found Madi?”
Hayden goes still. "If you say you were a virgin too, I’m going to lose my damn mind."
Tristan actually laughs, a full rare burst of sound before he asks Hayden, "Didn’t he spend the last two years giving you shit about that?"
Hayden doesn’t answer him or even ask me to clarify, because I think on some level he and Tristan suspected that half the shit I said I was doing was made up. Hayden is already halfway to tackling me when I leap out of the way, laughing. "Surprise!"
"I hate you," Hayden mutters as he slams into the lockers instead of me.
“No, you don’t. You love me,” I say in a sing-song voice.
The arena smells like sweat tonight, but that’s because we’re in a warmup scrimmage against St. Charles. Our Coaches are friends, so it’s nothing serious, just prep for next season. Coach Kavanagh and Coach Kingston go way back. Apparently, they played together in college, so they figured they’d torture us with some friendly competition.
The puck drops and the tempo ramps up. My legs burn, lungs expanding with the chilled air. It’s good. I need to hit something. I need to move. Because if I sit still too long, my mind wanders back to Lilac. To the anonymous text. To the way she flinched when she read it.
I skate hard, cut corners too tight, slam a guy into the boards maybe harder than necessary. Coach yells something unintelligible, but I tune it out. I’m already scanning the stands.
And there my girl is.
Lilac, Madison, and Winter are standing together up against the plexiglass looking onto the ice. Madi's in the middle, Lilac to the left, Winter on the right. They're smiling, talking, acting like they’ve been best friends forever. I like that. She looks like she’s happy with the girls, with me, with this life.
She’s wearing my jersey, number seventy-seven, and Grey is stitched bold across her back in pink courtesy of Madison. She’s been making the girls matching game day clothes for next year, and Hayden seems genuinely happy that Madison has found her niche. He told me that people have been approaching her on campus, asking her to make them custom jerseys. That part drives him insane because he hates sharing her attention with anyone, but I saw him the other night eating ice cream directly out of the carton and watching her intently as she set up her new sewing machine like she’s his favorite show. I saw Lilac and Winter sitting with her at our dining room table brainstorming on what her shop should be called. I don’t know what they landed on because any time me or the other guys tried to invade their space they squealed and giggled that it was girls’ night and shooed us away.
Lilac’s hair is in two pigtails, each one tied off with a pink bow. Actually, all three girls have pink bows in their hair. I laugh under my breath, because only fucking Hayden would buy a thousand bows.
My girl sees me looking and gives a tiny little wave, turning around to show me my name on her back. Madi and Winter both point at the pink letters with huge smiles like they want to make sure I see what she’s trying to show me. I swear my chest cracksopen right then. I want to skate off the ice right now and pull her into my arms.
I want to give her my name for real.
Both Coach Kav and Coach King are blowing their whistles at me, and I roll my eyes. I guess neither of these old fuckers have been hopelessly, desperately in love before. I blow Lilac a kiss and then skate off to rejoin our scrimmage.
There’s a break in the play, and I circle back toward the bench, just close enough to catch Lilac laughing at something Madi is telling her with animated hand moments and a swinging ponytail.
Then I see him.
That fucker Eric is back after no one’s seen a peep of him since the night we fled the mansion. When I realize he’s making his way toward the girls, my blood starts to simmer. He leans on the railing, all casual, and says something that makes Lilac tilt her head. I see her eyes widen and that’s enough for me to know my girl is uncomfortable.
I bang my stick against the glass, and he doesn’t move. I slam it again, louder this time, but he still doesn’t back off.
That’s all I need.
I skate off the ice, ignoring Coach Kav yelling my name, and storm down the tunnel. My skates thud hard against the rubber mat as I make my way to the front row of the bleachers. Lilac sees me coming, but Eric doesn’t.
I reach them, grab Lilac by the waist, lift her to me and kiss her hard. It’s a deep, possessive, filthy thing meant to make astatement. I kiss her like I want him to see exactly who she belongs to. When I break away, she’s breathless.
