Yeah, I’m gonna get fined for what I just did. The league’s gonna throw a fit.
Worst case? I get fined, suspended. But I’d still leave this arena with her legs wrapped around me.
I’ve gone ten days without her. Ten nights of listening to her voice through a screen instead of tasting it off her lips.
I’ll jump the boards every goddamn game if I have to.
The locker room is loud with victorious shouts—laughter, clapping, skates dropping to the floor, guys yelling over each other like a pack of hyped-up animals that just chewed through a win. The air reeks of sweat and triumph.
I sit on the bench, elbows on my knees, gear half-stripped, my whole body still buzzing.
That kiss still burns on my mouth, reminding me of what awaits me once I get out of this damn locker room and give the press the post-game interview they need.
I hear footsteps getting closer until they stop a few feet away from me. I don’t look up. I already know who it is.
My captain, teammate, and brother in everything but blood. And right now, the guy whose little sister I’ve been fucking behind his back.
“We need to talk.”
“So talk,” I say, trying to stay calm through the beating of my heart. He’s finally talking to me, and I don’t want to scare him off or agitate him more. But I’m also not going to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness.
“You know that stunt’s gonna get you fined, right?” He crosses his arms.
“I don’t give a shit.” I finally look up.
“Well, I do. I’m the captain. You went up to the goddamn VIP area, Jace.”
“Then maybe don’t put me in a position where I have to go lose my mind.” I lean back, arms stretched along the bench behind me, looking him dead in the eye. “So, are we gonna talk about it?”
Dom stays silent, eyes narrowing at me like he’s considering it. I scoff, shaking my head.
“You’re a real fucking stubborn son of a bitch,” I mutter.
“And you slept with my little sister behind my back,” he says.
“Yeah,” I snap. “And I’m not sorry. If you came here to tell me I’m a piece of shit and unfit for her, save it. I’ve already given myself the speech.”
“Jace,” Dom sighs.
“No, really,” I cut him off, pushing off the bench. “Let’s just get it over with. You get your punches in, tell me I’m a piece of shit, and I’ll let you—just this once.”
“Will you shut the fuck up for one second?” His voice cuts through me, but I don’t stop.
“I know what you think of me, Dom. I know the highlight reel of every time I fucked up is playing on loop in your head. And if you’re here just to remind me how not-good-enough I am, trust me, man, I already know—”
Suddenly, he steps in fast, grabs the back of my head, gripping a fistful of my hair hard enough that my neck bends, and I have to brace myself to keep my balance.
“Shut the fuck up and let me talk.”
It’s not gentle, but it’s not violent either. I breathe through my nose, holding still, eyes locked on him.
“Talk, then,” I say, straightening up again.
“Melody sat me down,” he exhales, long and sharp. “Told me how it started. The texting, the Halloween—everything. She told me how she feels about you.”
“I know.” My voice is flat. “She told me. Said you listened to her but still didn’t want to talk to me.”
“Yeah, I was pissed.” His voice softens slightly. “I didn’t want to believe it. I was too busy playing big brother.”
