Chapter Twelve Alex #2
“Jerseys,” I deadpan. “There’s some special solution for getting the blood out. The machines are old, so you’ll need to babysit them.”
“God, it stinks over here.” Her face twists in a snarl.
“Yeah. Welcome to hockey. We play rough, and we play hard.”
I wait for her to protest, but she doesn’t.
“Keep the water bottles clean and full. Durning home games, keep both locker rooms stocked with water, towels, and anything else that’s needed. Don’t fuck up.”
I fold my arms, observing her. She reaches up to check the cabinet, her sleeve rolling back just enough to show a faint burn near her wrist. When she catches me looking, she quickly tugs the material down. My gut twists, and I don’t know why.
I try to cover up the strange emotion with animosity. “No one wants you here.”
For the first time since she walked into the rink, Sam stares me in the eye.
“I’m aware.”
Click.
The door shuts behind me, and the air shifts. It’s heavy and clinical. And as fake as the smile on the receptionist’s face when she told me he was ready for me.
Being ordered to my father’s office is never for a good reason. Not that much is required to set him off. Just existing irritates him. The office is spotless and sterile. He doesn’t look up but immediately starts talking.
“Why must you insist on disappointing your mother and me?”
I’ve heard it all before. I’m an embarrassment, a disgrace.
“How do you think your failing grades make me look? Chancellor of a division one school with an idiot for a son. When are you going to learn that your behavior is a reflection on this family?”
“And here I was only thinking about myself,” I huff out, my fists clenched. “If you’re done, I’m late for class.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he barks. “I’ve made arrangements with your professor to let you do makeup work and retake your exam in two months. You’re going to do whatever it takes to pass, and I’ll let you stay on the team.”
I shift, breathing in through my nostrils.
“If you fail this exam, you’re done. If you don’t bring those grades up, you can kiss your Porsche, lake house, and allowance goodbye.” His voice slices through me.
I stare past his head. The framed degrees behind him mock me. It’s a sign of everything he is, and everything I’m not.
“You’re lucky I don’t pull you from the team now,” he threatens.
Of course, he hasn’t yet. That would mean he has to explain why the Williamsburgs are far from perfect.
We’re flawed beyond repair. The only real love in this family is from my mother.
Otherwise, it’s just cold dinners, colder silences, and a father who sees me as an extension of his image, not a son.
And when I fail—because I will—he’ll act like he saw it coming. Like it was inevitable. Like I was never worth betting on in the first place.
“You better play like you give a shit. Maybe with Kincaid benched, you can actually make a contribution. You’re dismissed.”
Maybe I can contribute? As if I didn’t help us win nationals two years in a row.
I leave before he can say anything else, my blood boiling, chest wound tight. Storming out, I run right into a warm body. And not the receptionist, who is nowhere to be found.
No. It’s Sam.
I catch her falling backward before she hits the floor. Standing her back upright, she quickly shrugs me off, like she wasn’t just eavesdropping while waiting in the lobby.
I pull her out into the hall and over to a secluded corner out of earshot before turning on her. “You just can’t seem to stay out of places you’re not wanted.”
“Look, I wasn’t trying to listen.”
“Could have fooled me. You were right outside the door on purpose; that sounds a lot like spying to me. Trying to blackmail me?”
She frowns. “Why would I blackmail you?”
I inch closer. “Why were you listening?”
“Okay, fine. I was but not why you think. I… I can help.”
I blink once. “How are you supposed to help me?”
Sam crosses her arms over her chest. “I came to this school with a 4.0 GPA. I’m good at this. You need to pass that exam and those assignments.”
There’s a brief silence between us as I weigh her offer.
“What do you get out of this? We’ve been nothing but assholes to you.”
“Trust me, I don’t like you any more than you like me. But I’ll make sure you pass if you keep the team off my ass.”
I snort. “You think helping me pass buys you a clean slate?”
“I think you’re desperate enough to say yes,” she says, chin lifting like she’s daring me to prove her wrong.
Everything in me wants to tell her that it doesn’t fix the added pressure on me because of her actions. But she’s not wrong. And worse—she knows it. I step in closer, until there’s barely any space left between us. “If I agree to this, we do it on my terms.”
She nods, her brows raised, and lips pressed tight in a silent yes.
“We meet off campus. No one can know. Ever.”
I drag my gaze over her face and the curve of her mouth. The way her jaw tightens when she’s holding herself together. God, I want to ruin that composure. But Sam holds her ground.
Finally, I let out a breath. “We start before the next game.”
Every part of me knows this is a mistake. But I’m going to make it anyway.