Chapter Thirty-Six – Dylan
Of course I’m pissed. If Torin didn’t punch James, I fucking would have, and in the process, I would have lost my job. Torin has every right to be seething. I mean, we both do. No one speaks about my princess like that.
We head upstairs into the office, and the second the door shuts behind us, that familiar irritation settles in my chest. I dislike this room.
It’s boring, with beige walls, four metal file cabinets pushed into one corner, and a tacky old leather sofa — it reeks of dust and old coffee.
The only time I come up here is to do accounts and files; I never stay longer than necessary.
Coach perches his ass on the edge of the wooden desk, his arms crossed, jaw locked.
Torin doesn’t even spare a glance in his direction.
He walks right up to the glass window, which overlooks the entire rink below, planting his hands to ground himself.
His shoulders rise and fall with slow, measured breaths.
I settle into a wooden chair, resting my elbows on my knees.
“Explain,” Coach says flatly.
“There isn’t much to explain,” I respond. “James was disrespectful, so I kicked him off the team. Simple.”
Coach takes a quick nose-breath. “Simple? You can’t do that without clearing it with me.”
“Well,” I shoot back, straightening in my seat, “I’m the captain and the rink’s manager.”
Torin takes a deep breath behind me, exhaling slowly, as if he is struggling to keep his composure by force of will alone.
Coach rubs the bridge of his nose, runs his fingers down his face, and then scratches the back of his head. When he looks at us again, he looks pissed, but there is something else in his eyes. Disappointment.
“So the rumors going around are true,” he says. “That you two are seeing the same girl.”
“And?” I challenge immediately, not even blinking. “We’re happy. That’s all that matters.”
He stands up straight, voice becoming harsher. “You’re gonna break up this hockey team over a woman? I taught you better than this, Crawley.”
The words hit hard — not because he’s right, but because he believes he is, and that annoys me more than anything.
A harsh laugh escapes me, and I slump back into the chair. “You also taught me not to put up with disrespect.” Coach opens his mouth, but I don’t give him the chance to cut in. I continue. “This is about basic decency. James went too far.”
Slowly, Torin finally tears his eyes from the glass. The look he gives me makes this room seem smaller. His dark eyes, gritted jaw, and fists clenched at his sides make me think he’s struggling with the need to punch something again.
When he speaks, his voice is low and serious and far more ominous than if he were yelling.
“James disrespected someone we care about. Someone innocent, someone who didn’t ask for the attention, the rumors, or the bullshit.
If you expect us to wear this jersey and pretend that’s acceptable, you don’t know us as well as you think you do. ”
Coach studies him for a long moment then looks back at me. “We’ve got another game against the Rangers soon, and you’re asking me to throw away a good player for a woman you care about.”
Silence stretches between us, but I don’t get a chance to answer.
Torin snaps, the veins in his temples bulging as he takes two strides to close the distance to Coach. “She means a lot,” he seethes. “James fucking goes, or Dylan and I walk. You’ll be losing two very good players. Think wisely, Coach.”
The room hums ominously, like a blowup is imminent.
Coach’s nostrils flare in agitation, temper rising to meet the challenge as he straightens to his full height.
“You forget who you’re talking to, kid. Relationships are for two people, not three.
It’s fucked, and wrong. You’re making the team a laughingstock around Ivywood. ”
Before everything blows up beyond repair, I insert myself into their space, hands raised. “Alright, alright. Let’s just calm down. We don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
But Torin ignores me. I can see in his eyes that he is losing it, eager to get out before he does something he will regret. He doesn’t need to say another word; he just spins around and charges toward the door, slamming it shut with such force, it shakes the walls.
****
Torin
Coach is lucky I didn’t fucking tear that office apart and knock him out.
I know he’s been there through some of my toughest years, but the way he worded it, like this is a simple task of a man kicking a player for a woman, ignited a whole different kind of fire within me.
No. That’s not what this is. You’re not losing a player for a woman.
You’re getting rid of a son of a bitch who figured he could go out and insult mine and Dylan’s woman and get off scot-free.
I didn’t trust myself after that.
While I got out of my kit, the locker room shrank to half its size.
Other players were trying to talk to me, whispering, making awkward gestures, making half-hearted “You good, man?” attempts I had no way of responding to.
I had to keep my head lowered, jaw clenched, hands moving in a blur.
If I opened my mouth, I know I would have exploded.
It’s been three hours, and I am still driving aimlessly around Ivywood.
I have no clue where I am going anymore.
The roads all blur into one, never-ending path.
Dylan’s missed calls keep flashing on my screen, but I’m not answering them.
A part of me wants to drive to James’ house and punch him again, but no, what I need to do is fucking calm myself before I see Fawn.
My knuckles start to turn white because I’m gripping the steering wheel so tightly.
I take the last drag of my cigarette, feeling the smoke sear a path down my throat.
It does nothing to relieve the situation; it only gives me something to do.
Exhaling slowly out of the window, I watch the smoke drift away.
Fuck. I’m back at the house without even realizing it. I ease into the driveway on autopilot, shut off the engine, and listen to the truck cool. It’s then I notice Fawn’s car parked out front, and a small load lifts off my shoulders. She’s here.
Fawn and Dylan are hanging out on the porch, and she’s snuggled up in his arms. As soon as she lays eyes on me getting out of the truck, everything shifts. I feel like a monster for knocking her down earlier. I could have broken her nose.
Dylan gets up quickly, but before he can get a word out, Fawn is already running off the porch.
She leaps into my arms, her legs tight around my waist like she might lose me if she loosens her grip.
“Where have you been?” She’s exasperated, her voice strained with worry.
“Dylan’s been trying to reach you for hours.
I was just about to go searching for you. ”
I pull her tight to me, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her scent. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper into her shoulder. “I needed some space. I felt terrible for earlier. It killed me knowing I knocked you down, that I could have hurt you.”
She pulls back a little to look at me, her hands clutching my shirt. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me, Torin. I’m not a porcelain doll. Just please don’t disappear on us again, alright? I was freaking out.”
My chest pulls tight. I close the distance between us and rest my forehead against hers. “Baby, I won’t ever do that to you again, I promise.”
Without thinking, I carry her up the stairs, setting her down gently on the porch. Dylan moves closer, the warmth of his hand settling between my shoulder blades as his eyes search mine. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I reply, Fawn’s hand still a lifeline in mine. “Just needed to clear my head. That’s all.”
Yeah, I won’t mention how I could have easily driven to James’ house and punched him again.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom quickly,” Fawn says quietly, squeezing our entwined hands before releasing them. It’s like she can sense Dylan and I need a moment alone.
As soon as the door closes behind her, Dylan drops onto the porch bench. I stay standing, placing my hands in the pockets of my jeans, looking out over the sun-stained yard.
“You had me worried,” Dylan says after a beat.
“I don’t know what to say.” For once, it’s like he’s the mature one out of us.
“Leo isn’t on the team anymore. I made sure of it,” he states.
“What about Coach?”
I can hear him exhaling through his nose. “I told him our love life has nothing to do with him or the team. And I’d fucking walk if he ever tries to make me choose between you, Fawn, and playing hockey.”
This gets my attention. On the heels of my feet, I turn around and stare at him intensely, as if I need to read the truth in his face. “You’d really choose us? Over the coach . . . the team, hockey?”
Dylan scoffs at the question, as if it stings him. He gets up, closes the distance between us, and grasps the back of my head, pulling me toward him until our foreheads are touching.
“Torin, that shouldn’t even be a fucking question. You and Fawn will always come first.”
My vision blurs just a little. We are standing here, our eyes locked as we breathe the same air. It’s a heavy moment, packed with shared struggles and something new I’m trying to figure out. I don’t even have a word to describe this; all I know is that it’s real and important.
In a swift movement, he leans in and pecks a soft kiss on my cheek. I do not give it a second thought before acting on the impulse. I kiss him back, my lips grazing against his cheek. Then, pulling back a little, I exhale.
“Us three,” I breathe.
“Always,” he answers without hesitation.
The air between us has changed. It’s shifted into something deeper, something undeniable. We both freeze for a moment before pulling back with a shake of our heads, as if to wipe away the fog.
“Right,” Dylan continues, “let’s just forget what happened this afternoon and have a good evening at the lake, okay?”
I swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah, uh, again, dude, I’m sorry—”
“Hey, hey,” he cuts in gently. “If you hadn’t punched James, I would’ve lost my job.” A crooked smile spreads, just a little. “So you really did me a favor.”
I laugh quietly, feeling the tightness ease. I’m glad it was me who punched James. Dylan rarely loses his cool — I haven’t seen him lash out in years. If anyone was going to snap, it was better that it was me.
The front door swings open, and Fawn literally bounces onto the porch. Finally, now that the air’s cleared, I really look at her. She’s wearing jean shorts and a white shirt, nothing fancy or dressed up, but she looks perfect anyway, like always.
“Everything good?” she asks, looking at both of us, a gleam of curiosity in her eye.
“Yeah,” I blurt, maybe a little too hastily. “Has anyone, you know, told you that you look beautiful, as ever?”
Her cheeks flush bright pink instantaneously, and she lowers her head with a shy smile.
“Oh! Wait a sec!” Dylan exclaims, stepping back inside. He is gone for no more than a minute before he bursts back outside again, waving something. “Look what I got in the mail this morning.”
It’s Fawn’s first book.
She blinks rapidly. “You bought my book?” she says softly, incredulous. “If you asked, I would’ve given you a copy for free.”
“But princess, I wanted to buy it,” Dylan explains simply. “In fact, I bought twenty copies. You won’t let us lend you any money, so I thought buying your books would help.”
Her breath catches. At first, she doesn’t respond; she moves forward and throws her arms around him. “You didn’t have to do that. Hell! I got so lucky with you two.”
She presses a kiss to his lips, grateful and loving, and my heart feels all fuzzy.
Looking at them there, I realize this isn’t wrong like the coach said.
It’s real.
“We should head off,” Dylan suggests, looking up at the sky. “I want you to see the sunset.”
“Sounds good,” Fawn replies with a smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
She reaches to grab her bag, but Dylan gets to it first, slinging it over his shoulder.
“We’re taking my truck, by the way,” I say, already walking that way.
“Your cars wouldn’t make it on those back roads.
” I reach back and grab Fawn’s hand, leading her across the driveway as gravel crunches beneath our feet.
Behind us, Dylan goes back inside for a few more things, leaving me alone with her for a second.
“Baby,” I say quietly, “again, I’m sorry. I know I get fucking angry, and I don’t ever want you to see me like that.”
She gives my hand a soft squeeze. “Torin, you stood up for me. I’ll always be grateful for that. Please stop hating yourself for it. If anything, it was kinda hot.”
The space between us narrows as my eyes travel up to meet hers. She smirks, like she can see beyond all my rough edges and isn’t scared. Which is so fucking sexy.
I don’t overthink it. I simply go for it. Pinning her against the truck, I kiss her, my palms cradling her face as I pour all the words I have not been able to say into her kiss. Our tongues meet as she sinks into me.
“Fuck me. I can’t leave you two alone for a second?” Dylan interrupts, and we instantly release each other, laughing wildly and caught red-handed.
Like a gentleman, I open the truck door for her and say, “After you, baby.”
As she leaps into the passenger seat, I quickly land a light smack on her perky ass, and she laughs with surprise. Dylan tosses the last of the stuff into the truck’s bed and moves to climb into the passenger side, but I stop him with a hand to his chest.
“Uh . . .” I say. “You’re in the back.”
“The back?” he repeats, brows pulling together. “There is no back.”
A wolfish smirk creeps across my face.