Chapter 8 #2
“Everyone will find out soon anyway,” I say without thinking. “Even the hockey team knows.”
The words are out before I can stop them, and I immediately regret it.
“What?” Sasha’s tone changes abruptly. “The hockey team knows? What the hell happened? Did someone—”
“No, no!” I interrupt quickly. “The team itself has nothing to do with it. It was just a stupid joke, a prank for Valentine’s Day. Information accidentally leaked out, that’s all.”
“Val—”
“I’m fine, Sash. Really. I promise.”
We talk for a few more minutes, but I can hear the worry in his voice. When we finally hang up, I collapse onto my bed and stare at the ceiling.
“Stupid mouth,” I mutter to the empty room. “Too damn loud for my own good.”
* * *
The next day, under pressure to save the fundraising and prove to the administration that the athletic teams support the rescue room, I find myself at a hockey game.
My phone buzzes with a message from Devlin:
how are you?
where are you?
I don’t reply. If I tell him I’m at the match, he’ll know for sure that I’m head over heels for him. I’m sure of it for some stupid reason. And I’m not ready to admit that, not even to myself.
I watch him on the ice—powerful, completely in control. Every movement is precise, calculated. He’s magnificent.
“Val!”
Liz slides into the seat next to me, her cheeks pink from the arena’s chill. She’s bundled in a heavy coat, but as she settles in, she unzips it, revealing a flash of white and purple underneath.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming,” I say, trying to tear my gaze away from the game. “I thought you had that study group tonight?”
“Finished early,” she says, her eyes already darting back to the rink.
On the ice, the play shifts. Marcus Morin, the team’s lead defenseman, intercepts a pass with a brutal crack of his stick.
The crowd erupts, but Lizzy’s reaction is different. She stands up, her hands clasped over her heart, a look of pure pride on her face.
That’s when I see it. She’s shifted her coat just enough to reveal the jersey she’s wearing. It’s huge on her, the sleeves rolled up several times, and as she turns to sit back down, I catch the name on the back in bold, block letters: MORIN.
I blink, my brain stalling for a second. “Liz? Are you… wearing Marcus’s jersey?”
She freezes, then slowly turns to me. A shy, radiant grin breaks across her face.
“Dating him? Yeah,” she says, her voice dropping so the fans around us won’t hear. “For about two weeks now.”
“Two weeks?” I stare at her, stunned. “How? When did you even have time to—”
“Stats class, Val. We’ve been lab partners since the start of the semester.
He finally asked me out after that midterm we pulled an all-nighter for.
” She bites her lip, her excitement giving way to a small, apologetic shrug.
“I tried to tell you on Friday, and again on Sunday, but you were so stressed about the rescue room…
and then the thing with the letters happened. "
A heavy wave of guilt washes over me, cooling the adrenaline from the game. Two weeks. My best friend has been falling for a guy, wearing his clothes, and probably glowing like a lightbulb for fourteen days, and I hadn’t noticed a single thing.
I’d been so wrapped up in the dark, suffocating orbit of Devlin Bower that I’d completely stopped looking at the people who actually cared about me.
“I’m so sorry, Liz. I’ve been a terrible friend.”
“You’ve been dealing with a lot.” She squeezes my hand. “Come with me after? Marcus is going to meet me outside the locker room, and you can keep me company.”
I agree, mostly because I feel guilty for being so self-absorbed.
After the game—which they win—we make our way to the corridor outside the locker rooms. Marcus emerges first, sweeping Lizzy into his arms and spinning her around. She laughs, her face glowing with happiness.
Then Devlin comes out.
His eyes find me immediately, scanning me from head to toe. Then he deliberately, publicly, looks away. Ignores me completely.
The dismissal stings more than it should.
“I’m going home,” I announce, my voice tight.
Devlin walks away pointedly right after my words, disappearing around the corner.
I’m halfway to the exit when my phone buzzes in my pocket. The vibration is so sharp it feels like a jolt of electricity.
I pull it out, my breath hitching as I see his name on the screen.
at least you let me see those eyes tonight
you’re going to show me your shoulders later
I know I left marks there
if I’d stayed in that hallway a second longer, I would have had to kill every one of those bastards
because they would have heard exactly how you moan for me
Heat floods through me, so intense I can barely breathe. My skin feels two sizes too small for my body, and my vision blurs as the image of us in the this hallway flashes through my mind. My fingers shake so badly I almost drop the phone as I type out a reply.
A simple hello would have been nice. Congrats on the win.
His response is immediate:
save the congratulations for when I actually win something that matters
you know exactly who I’m coming for
“Hey, Val?” Liz touches my arm. “A bunch of us are going to grab food and drinks. Come with?”
“I don’t know—”
“Please? I promise it’ll be fun.”
Marcus adds, “Yeah, man. It’ll be chill.”
I’m trapped. I can’t say no without seeming like an asshole, so I agree.
The bar is crowded and loud, filled with students celebrating the win. We claim a large table in the back, and I settle in next to Liz, trying to look like I’m having a good time.
Then Devlin walks in.
He greets everyone, slapping backs and accepting congratulations. The fun continues unabated around us, the noise level rising.
He says nothing to me. Instead, he sits directly across from me, close enough that our knees almost touch under the table.
And when I finally find the courage to look at him, he’s already staring at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
His eyes are dark, menacing, possessive.
He doesn’t look away. Not for a second.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this is going to be a very long night.