Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
I wasn’t sure what had crawled up Drew’s ass, but he was on a tear.
I’d known him long enough to read his moods like a playbook, and right now, every line of his body screamed fury.
During warm-ups, he’d barely looked at me.
His passes were too sharp with way more force than necessary.
And when I’d tried to run our usual pre-game drills, he’d skated away without a word.
“You good, man?” I’d asked, catching up to him near the boards.
His jaw had clenched so tight I thought he might crack a tooth. Before he could answer, Coach called for our attention.
Whatever was eating at him would have to wait. Montana Tech wasn’t an easy opponent, and we needed to be locked in if we wanted to win.
Unfortunately, Drew missed that memo.
Every time I tried to set up our usual plays, he went rogue. He wouldn’t cover my side, wouldn’t communicate, wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence on the ice. It was like playing with a stranger wearing my best friend’s jersey.
“What the fuck, Drew?” I called after he left me hanging on a defensive rotation that should’ve been second nature.
I got no response from him. Just the same rigid fury that had been radiating off him in waves since before the game started.
Foster shot me a look from the bench during a line change. “What’s going on with Monty?”
“No fucking clue.” But even as I said it, dread started pooling in my gut. Because there was really only one thing I could think of that would make Drew this angry at me specifically.
But there was no way he knew. We’d been careful—apart from today, but I’d been back in the locker room long before Drew showed up.
Then Drew slammed into the boards after a particularly brutal check. His helmet went askew and when he got up, his face was flushed with something far beyond exertion.
I skated over to check on him—the same way I’d done a thousand times before—and held out my hand to help.
Instead of taking the help, he shoved me hard.
Okay, fuck this. I’d had enough of whatever bullshit was going on with him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I was too pissed to keep my voice down, and my accent grew thicker like it always did when my emotions ran high.
Drew’s eyes were wild. Not just angry—fucking enraged. And then he screamed loud enough for the entire arena to hear. “You fucked my sister!”
Time stopped.
Everyone around us was dead silent as I stared at my best friend, less concerned about how he found out and more pissed that he’d shouted that shit in front of a fucking audience—including his sister.
Now I was the one enraged, even if I was partially at fault here. I skated closer, staring him down. “Lower your goddamn voice when you say that shit.”
Fire practically lit in his eyes. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
“It’s not how you think—” I started.
His fist connected with my jaw before I could finish the sentence.
Pain exploded through my face, and instinct took over. I dropped my gloves—a stupid move, I knew, but my body was operating on pure adrenaline now—and grabbed him before he could swing again.
He threw another punch, this one catching my cheekbone, and I tasted blood.
We grappled on the ice, each getting a few hits in before the refs and our teammates were able to pull us apart.
“I trusted you!” he yelled. “You were supposed to be my best friend, you piece of shit!”
“I am your best friend!” I shouted back as two of my teammates held me back while Foster and Gordy were holding Drew. “I love her, Drew! I fucking love her!”
That stopped him. For one brief second, we were both frozen, breathing hard, blood dripping from our lips onto the ice.
Then the refs blew their whistles, calling game misconduct and tossing both of us from the game.
We’d both probably be sitting out the next one too, depending on how pissed Coach was.
Coach Maxwell and two of our freshman teammates escorted us to the locker room. Once it was clear we wouldn’t kill each other, he sent them back out.
Drew stood on one side of the room, his chest heaving, his knuckles already starting to bruise, while I stood on the other. I was pretty sure my face looked worse than his—I could feel my cheek swelling and my lip was definitely split.
Coach stood in the middle, looking back and forth at both of us like he was watching a tennis match for the first time ever and trying to figure out what the point was.
“You two wanna explain what the fuck that was about?”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Drew laughed. Not a real laugh but one that was bitter and made guilt eat away at my chest like acid.
“Ask fuckboy.”
I clenched my jaw but didn’t speak. I couldn’t. It wasn’t an inappropriate term, although I’d only been with one woman for the last seven months.
And maybe it made me an asshole, but I didn’t regret anything that had happened. I could never regret Ava. But I did regret that I’d kept it from Drew for so long.
It didn’t matter how he found out—although I was still curious. It mattered that the truth was out. Well, most of it. I still needed to clear up the fact that I was no longer the fuckboy he thought I was.
“I’m sorry for keeping it from you,” I said, meeting his eyes. “That was wrong.”
“You’re damn fucking right.”
“But I’m not sorry for being with her.” I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “I won’t apologize for that.”
Drew’s expression flickered with what could have been surprise or anger. It was hard to tell right now. “You’ve got some fucking nerve.”
“Maybe. But it’s the truth.” I sat down on the bench, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind the reality of what had just happened. “Ava isn’t some random hookup.”
“How long?”
Oh, boy, he wasn’t going to like this answer.
“Started last spring.”
He ground his teeth together, his nostrils flaring. “All summer,” he said, his voice raw. “All fucking summer, you were sleeping with my sister.”
“We were going to tell you. But then Harper left and you were falling apart—”
“Don’t you dare use that as an excuse. That was months ago.”
I didn’t have a defense for that. He was right. Because even after he and Harper had gotten back together, we still hadn’t told him.
“How did you find out?” I asked.
Drew’s laugh was humorless. “I saw her coming out of the supply closet before the game. Her hair was messy and her cheeks were flushed—it was pretty fucking obvious what she’d been doing.
” His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“So I waited. Wanted to see which asshole on my team I was going to have to kill.”
My stomach dropped.
“Imagine my surprise when my best friend walked out a minute later.”
Fuck.
“Drew—”
“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
Coach cleared his throat, reminding us both he was still there. “Alright. I’ve heard enough to know this isn’t something that’s getting resolved tonight.”
“Coach—” Drew started.
“No.” Coach’s voice was firm. “You’re both running too hot right now to have a conversation that doesn’t end with more blood on the floor. And frankly, I don’t have the patience for it.” He pointed at Drew. “You—go home. Cool off. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Then he turned to me. “You—wait twenty minutes, then leave. I don’t want you two in the same parking lot. I’d also recommend maybe finding somewhere else to stay tonight.”
“What about tomorrow’s game?” I asked.
Coach pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t decided yet. Depends on whether you two can act like adults by then.” He headed for the door, then paused. “Whatever this is, let the anger settle first. Otherwise, you’re just going to say shit you can’t take back.”
He looked between us one more time, shook his head, and walked out.
Drew grabbed his gear bag without looking at me. He was almost to the door when I spoke.
“I meant what I said out there. I love her.”
He stopped, his back still to me. For a long moment, he didn’t move.
“That might be the worst part,” he said quietly.
Then he was gone.
I sat alone in the locker room, my face throbbing and my chest hollow.
Coach was right—we couldn’t fix this tonight. But there was someone else I needed to talk to. Someone who’d just watched her brother announce our secret to an arena full of people. And then heard me shout words I hadn’t even said to her yet.