Captured Love (The Crestwood University #3)

24. Knox

24

KNOX

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this relaxed, on or off the ice. It's like a fog has lifted, and the world is clear. I make another crisp pass down the length of the rink and watch it glide perfectly to Levi’s stick. He looks almost surprised before grinning and giving me a thumbs up.

“Nice one, Knox!” he shouts, forever stepping into his role as captain and helping keep team morale up.

I nod, acknowledging his comment. I can’t fight the smirk that appears on my face. The praise means a lot, but more importantly, I know I’ve been on fire all session and I’m glad my teammates are taking notice. It’s like every drill, every pass, every shot has just clicked today.

Coach Johnson blows his whistle, and my attention is on him. “Alright, bring it in!” he yells.

We all skate toward the bench, quickly forming a loose huddle. Several of us have already grabbed water bottles and towels as we try to calm ourselves down.

“Great practice today,” Coach says. “We're really starting to gel as a unit. Keep this up, and we'll be unstoppable.” He reaches for the glasses that are sitting on top of his head as if to double check that they are still there before he turns to me. “Levi, Knox, fantastic chemistry out there, especially at the end.”

Coach’s words linger in the air, and I allow them to sink in. Chemistry. It’s what I’ve been missing, not just with the team, but in life lately. Maybe things are finally starting to click.

Asher slaps me on the back. “And your shoulder looks to be as good as new now, so we’ve got this season in the bag.”

“Hell yeah,” I reply in return.

“Alright, hit the showers,” Coach Johnson says, breaking up our huddle. “And remember, team dinner tonight. Mandatory.”

In the locker room, the guys are already stripping off their gear and cracking jokes. It's loud and chaotic, but in a way that's comforting. I take a seat at my stall and start unlacing my skates.

Asher sits down next to me, his blond hair a sweaty mess. “Dude. Knox, that was the best I’ve seen you move in weeks, not including when you clutched that win for us a few games ago. What was that?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just feeling good, I guess.”

Asher raises an eyebrow, skepticism written all over his face. “Oh really? Just 'feeling good'? Come on, spill it. Does it have something to do with a particular redhead that is also best friends with my girl?”

I pause, the lace in my hand tightening into a knot. Asher's not wrong; Selene has a lot to do with my improved mood. It’s been nice getting to talk to her again and getting to know her in…other ways, but I don’t really want to talk about it with the guys if I can avoid it.

At least not yet.

But given that Isla and Selene are best friends, it looks like I might be forced into a corner. I glance over at Asher, weighing my options. Before I can come up with a response that nicely tells him to fuck off, Wilder strolls over, towel slung around his neck and smirking like he already knows the punchline to a joke we haven't heard yet.

“Don't tell me it's love that's turned you into frickin' Wayne Gretzky,” Wilder says, crossing his arms. “Because if that's the case, maybe I need to find myself a cute girl too.”

The locker room falls silent, all eyes on me. I can almost hear the unspoken “Ooooooh” hanging in the air.

I laugh, trying to defuse the sudden tension. “You'd have to develop a personality first, Wilder.”

He holds a hand to his chest, pretending that I actually hurt him. “Touché.”

The room erupts in noise again as soon as they realize that nothing else is going to come of this. I go back to untying my now double-knotted laces.

“Seriously though,” Asher says, leaning in closer so only I can hear. “I'm happy for you, man.”

“Thanks, but what did Isla say about Selene and me?”

Asher leans back, stretching his arms over this chest. “She may have mentioned that Selene and you are doing better this time around,” he says with a casual nonchalance that I don't buy for a second. “And that you two have been spending some time together. Dude, it's not like we're blind. We can see that you’ve been way happier recently. Hell, Wilder even mentioned that someone must have dislodged the stick from your ass.”

I roll my eyes as I finish with my laces and start peeling off my pads. “That’s all accurate. It’s been really good.”

Asher stands, starting to strip off his own pads. “So it's official then? You two are together?”

I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. “We're taking it slow. Seeing where things go.”

“Yeah, sure,” Asher says, standing up and starting toward the showers. “Just remember, if you hurt her again, Isla will kill you. And then I'll have to kill you again for good measure.”

“Just know that goes both ways, roomie .”

Asher waves a hand dismissively but doesn't turn around. “Yeah, yeah. We’re all one big, happy, murderous family.”

I watch Asher disappear into the showers, his playful threat still lingering in my mind. He’s right, of course. If things go south with Selene again, it’s not just my relationship with her that’s on the line—it's my friendship with Asher and Isla, and potentially the entire team dynamic.

I strip down to my towel and head toward the showers, letting the hot water work its magic on my sore muscles. The team cycles in and out, some guys finishing up quickly while others take their time. By the time I’m back at my locker, most of the guys are dressed and making plans for the afternoon.

Levi walks by and points a finger at me. “Don't forget about dinner tonight.”

“I'll be there,” I say, toweling off my hair.

Levi pauses, as if he's about to say something else, then just nods and walks away.

As I’m getting dressed, my phone vibrates in my duffel bag. I reach for it and see a text from the woman of the hour.

Selene: How was practice?

I type a response, then delete it. Type another, then delete that too. Why is it so much harder to talk to her through a screen?

Me: Good. Exhausting. How are you?

I hit send and start dressing. My phone buzzes again.

Selene: Just finished class. Tired, but I’ll be okay.

I can picture her, red-faced and sweaty but glowing with that post-workout energy. Another text comes in before I can respond.

Selene: Want to grab lunch?

I bite my lip, conflicted. I do want to see her, but if I don’t go home and rest now, there’s no way I’ll survive the team dinner.

Me: Can’t unfortunately. I have class in 30 and then a team project meeting. Then there’s this team thing tonight.

Selene: No worries! I’ll catch you later.

For some reason, her dismissal doesn’t sit well with me, so I don’t end the conversation there.

Me: Are we still on for Thursday?

I stare at the phone screen, waiting for those three little dots to appear, signaling that she's typing. When they finally do, my chest tightens.

Selene: Of course

The smiley face eases the tension in me a bit. I shove the phone back into my duffel and finish getting dressed. Once I’ve gathered my things, I leave the rink and head to my car. I pop my trunk, put my hockey gear inside and grab my book bag. Then I hop into the driver's seat for a moment and turn my car on. As I’m letting it warm up, my phone buzzes again.

Selene: If you’re too busy we can reschedule…

Shit. That isn’t the impression I wanted her to have. I quickly type out another message.

Me: No way. I’m really looking forward to it.

Selene: Okay.

As I’m about to put my phone down so that I can drive, it vibrates in my hand again. I expect it to be a text from Selene, but it’s from Willow.

Willow: Mom really wants to know what day we’re going to be home for Mamita’s party so she can organize stuff.

Shit. I haven’t forgotten about the party, but I still haven’t figured out when would be the best time for us to leave. A lot of it was dependent on my schedule and things have just been so hectic with everything. I’ll think about it when I get back home.

As I’m about to throw my car into drive, I freeze in place because of a sudden tapping on my window. I turn my head slowly only for my stomach to drop the second I see her.

Tessa.

Lowering my window halfway, I brace myself. “What do you want?”

“Why haven’t you answered my texts?” she demands without an introduction, crossing her arms over her chest. Can’t blame her for that since I tossed any sort of manners, I had out the window.

“What texts?” It’s a lie, but I just want her go away.

“Don’t play dumb, Knox. I know you’ve seen them.”

“I haven't—” I start, but she cuts me off with a sharp shake of her head.

“I texted you a while ago.” Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “You had no problem liking my comment on your post, but you can’t respond to a simple text?”

I do a double take. Because what in the actual fuck? “I didn’t like your comment.”

She snorts in response. “Whatever. It’s not like you haven’t answered before. So what, now you’re too busy to talk to me?”

“I never said that,” I reply, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “I didn’t like your comment and if I don’t want to respond to anything you’ve sent me that’s my prerogative. We are over and have been for years. I thought I made that clear numerous times.”

Her eyes flash with something that I can’t place. I don’t know her anymore and she doesn’t know me so I’m glad I don’t know what she’s feeling.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, well... I just thought you’d at least respond. We were together for a long time, Knox. You can’t just pretend none of that mattered.”

This is why I shouldn’t have lowered my window.

“I’m not pretending anything,” I say, forcing my voice to stay level. “But whatever you’re trying to do? Cut it out. We have nothing to say to each other.”

“Fine,” she mutters. “Whatever, you say, Knox.”

Before I can respond, she spins on her heel and walks away. I watch her disappear around the corner of the building before leaning back against the headrest.

What the hell was that? And how did she know I was here?

It’s not like it matters now because she already achieved one of her goals: seeing me. I rub the back of my neck and try to stop thinking about Tessa. The whole interaction leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but there’s not much I can do about it now.

I glance at my phone still sitting in the cupholder, the earlier texts from Selene and Willow staring back at me. My thumb hovers over Willow’s message, but my mind shifts to something else entirely—something I have no business thinking about right now.

What if I invite Selene to Mamita’s birthday party?

The idea is insane. I know it. Selene and I aren’t even solid yet and bringing her into the hurricane that is my family could either solidify us or completely tear us apart. But if I don’t invite her, I’ll be gone for the whole weekend, right when things are starting to click.

My phone slips out of my hand and onto my lap. I pick it up and find the text messages that Selene and I have sent to each other. The thought of inviting her still feels reckless, but why does it sound like such a good idea at the same time?

Since I need to get to class, I flip back to the texts that my sister and I have shared with one another and hastily type out a message to her.

Me: I’ll let you know later this week.

With that still lingering on my mind, I put my phone in my cupholder and pull out of the parking lot.