Chapter 5 Derek
After afternoon skate, Avery and I pushed through the doors toward the parking garage, my gear bag biting into my shoulder.
Someone was waiting just outside.
Slight. Dark haired. Pale in the way that suggested he hadn’t seen much sun recently or maybe just naturally held the light differently than other people. He was looking down at his phone with a bored expression, his other hand tucked in his pocket.
Big eyes. Dark, serious, framed by the kind of lashes that seemed almost unfair.
He had a sharp jaw and a mouth that looked like it defaulted to disapproval.
He was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt despite the heat, loose cargo pants, nothing remarkable about any of it, and somehow the overall effect was—
I wasn’t sure what the word was. Striking felt too aggressive for someone who looked like that. There was something almost ethereal about him. Delicate, in a way that had nothing to do with fragility and everything to do with the particular quality of his stillness.
He looked almost nothing like Avery, which shouldn’t have surprised me. Avery was all tattoos and ripped shirts and the kind of physical presence that announced itself from across a room. Standing next to his brother, he looked like a different species entirely.
“Hey—Mathéo. Sorry. Théo.” Avery corrected himself like he was still rewiring old habits.
“This is Sully. Derek Sullivan. He’s our alternate captain, been with the team seven years, basically taught me everything I know.
” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Best guy on the roster. Sully, my brother Théo.”
I felt my neck heat at the introduction. Avery meant well but it was hard to feel like the best guy on the roster when the person in front of me looked profoundly unimpressed.
Théo’s gaze moved over me. Direct. Measuring without being unfriendly, though it stopped well short of warm.
“Derek Sullivan.” I kept my smile easy anyway and offered my hand. “Nice to meet you, Théo. Welcome to Chicago.”
He hesitantly took his hand out of his pocket and shook mine. Firm grip. Cold hand. His eyes didn’t soften.
“Thanks,” he said. One word. Oh-kay.
I’d met a lot of teammates’ family members over the years. Most of them were eager to chat—nervous, even, wanting to make a good impression. Théo looked like he was waiting for me to leave.
“You settling in okay? Chicago’s a lot at first.”
“It’s fine.” A beat, like he could tell I was waiting for more. “Big.”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “It is that.”
Avery was already looking at his phone, scrolling through something, half-present the way he got when practice had run long and his attention was splitting between the immediate conversation and whatever he needed to eat in the next thirty minutes.
“We’re doing drinks tomorrow after practice,” I said. “A few of the guys. Nothing formal. If you want to come, you’re welcome.”
Théo looked at me for a moment. Something moved behind his eyes—consideration, maybe, or the internal calculation of someone deciding how much energy they had available for other human beings.
“Maybe,” he settled on.
If Avery was open and easy, Théo was a closed door with the deadbolt thrown.
“No pressure,” I said, and meant it. “Offer stands either way.”
He gave a single nod and turned back to Avery.
“Ready?”
Avery pocketed his phone. “Yeah. You eat?”
“I had something earlier.”
“Well, I’m starving. We’re stopping somewhere on the way back. Don’t argue with me.”
Something shifted in Théo’s expression—not quite a smile, but the ghost of one. Brief. Almost involuntary. He covered it with an eye roll before it could fully form.
“Fine,” he said.
“See you tomorrow, Sully.”
“Good luck fighting everyone on the Kennedy. Bye, Théo.”
A jerk of his chin. No words. Then he turned toward the garage, Avery trailing after him and already debating whether to eat before IKEA or after.
I watched them go for a beat longer than necessary.
Weird kid, I thought. But not in a bad way. Just… guarded. Like he was bracing for impact even when nothing was coming.
I shook it off and headed for my own car.