17. Dylan
DYLAN
My eyelids stick together, and the slight pounding in my temples serves as a not-so-subtle reminder of last night. Groaning, I roll over onto my back, covering my face with my hands.
I kissed Jaxon Keller.
And then I promptly fell apart in his arms.
How embarrassing!
And yet, even now, my body melts at the reminder of how good it felt to have his solid weight pressing me into the couch cushions, his lips trailing across my skin. A heated thrill pulses through me. One I shouldn’t feel.
“You’re such an idiot,” I mumble to myself.
I swore off teammates, and yet here I’ve gone and kissed not one but two Steelhawks players. Is self-sabotage one of the ten stages of grief, because that is clearly what I’m attempting to do.
As the reminder of how good Jax’s lips felt on mine fades, my gut twists, remembering what came after—Kyle holding my dad’s mug, smirking like the smug asshole he is before he dropped it.
I know he dropped it on purpose. No way was that a simple accident, no matter what he’ll proclaim.
A heavy sadness descends, and a sigh escapes me as I drag myself upright, resting my back against the headboard and scrubbing my hands down my face.
There’s a team meeting this morning, and I need to get ready.
When I turn to grab my phone off the nightstand, I pause. The mug is sitting there—the one Kyle broke last night.
Except…it’s been pieced back together. Cracks run across the surface like a fractured mosaic, and some pieces are so tiny they’re missing altogether. It’s not perfect—not even close—but it’s whole .
Jax.
A lump wedges in my throat. It has to be him.
He’s the only one who would’ve done this.
Sitting up straighter, my hand shakes as I reach for the mug.
The cracks are rough under my fingers, but they’re solid, glued carefully with the kind of patience I can’t even fathom.
Jax didn’t have to do this. Most people would have swept the pieces into the trash.
But he did, because he understood how much the mug meant to me. Because he listened .
God, this must have taken him all night to painstakingly glue back together. Tears sting my eyes as I cradle it gently in my hands, unable to fully process that this is real life and that I’m not still dreaming.
Swallowing hard, I get out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the carpet as I cross the room to where I have all of my other mugs set out on a shelf.
The morning light spills over each one, carefully chosen, illuminating the colors as I slide the glued one cautiously into its place.
My hand lingers there for a moment before I step back, doing a quick survey of the rest of the room.
My bedroom is small but cozy. A twin bed shoved into the corner with plain white bedding on it.
A desk cluttered with notebooks, a few pens, and an empty water bottle is pushed against the wall beneath the window, and my favorite hoodie hangs off the back of my desk chair.
It’s not much, but it’s mine. Or it was—until Kyle stepped into it without me knowing.
I shiver, my face scrunching as my gaze flickers toward the door. The idea of him being in here, touching my things, makes my skin crawl. It suddenly crosses my mind that he could have done anything when he was in here.
With a shiver skating down my spine, I rip my bedsheets off the bed and dump them in a pile by the door to wash. Next, I go through my bookshelves, ensuring he hasn’t messed with anything—or worse, planted something. It would be easy enough to hide a recording device among my belongings.
I rip my room apart before putting it back together again, not finding anything. Still, I feel like there is a layer of slime covering my skin. One a hot shower won’t wash off. I frown at the door, an ache in my chest as I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe in this room again.
Kyle broke something fundamental by violating my privacy.
No way am I letting him steal anything else.
After the team meeting this morning, I’m going to buy a lock for my door.
The soles of my Converse slap against the stairs as I descend while simultaneously scraping my hair back into a ponytail.
I’ve been at BSU for an entire month already.
It’s the end of September now, and fall is starting to seep in—leaves changing from green to burnt orange, a crisp freshness entering the air.
However, today is gorgeous. The sun is shining, and I’ve decided to brave it in shorts and a tank.
I’m pretty sure it’s the last chance I’ll get to wear them before autumn fully arrives, and the snow will soon follow .
Hitting the bottom of the stairs, I tie a hoodie around my waist as I beeline for the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before our team meeting.
As soon as I round the corner, I bump nose to chest with Ethan.
“Jesus, what are you doing lurking around corners?” I grumble, rubbing at my nose.
Is his chest made of granite or something?
I mean, I know, like most hockey players, Ethan is ninety percent muscle, but damn , that hurt.
“Sorry. I heard you coming?—”
“And you thought you’d break my nose before breakfast?”
He pins me with a don’t be dramatic stare, but clearly Ethan has no idea just how freaking solid his body is.
“No,” he drolls. “I wanted to check in with you. Jax told me about last night.”
Miraculously, the pain in my nose is forgotten as I straighten, searching Ethan’s gaze as if that will be enough to tell me exactly what he knows about last night.
“Did he now?” I hedge.
He nods. “I’ll have another word with Kyle.”
I scoff, shaking my head. Seriously? “Yeah, ’cause that approach is clearly working so well.”
Ethan’s jaw tightens. “What would you have me do?” he demands, folding his arms across his chest and staring me down.
Exhaling harshly, I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Kyle can come at me on the ice all he wants, but what he did last night crossed a hard line.” Meeting Ethan’s unwavering stare, I ask bluntly, “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it makes me to have to live under the same roof as four guys? Men who are essentially strangers to me? Men who hate me because I dared to break societal norms?” I shake my head.
“And now I can’t even relax in my own room.
Kyle stole that solitude from me by going in there without my permission or knowledge.
The only safe space I had in this house—on this whole campus—and it’s gone?— ”
“Kyle went into your room?” The absolute fury behind Ethan’s words cuts me off, and I blink at him before slowly nodding.
“I thought you said Jax told you what happened?”
His teeth grind, jaw flexing. “He told me Kyle went at you, but he didn’t give me any specifics. He sure as fuck didn’t tell me Kyle invaded your privacy.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal when, in reality, it fucking is. “Well, he did. I’m going into town after the team meeting to get a lock for the door, and I don’t care what you have to say about that being against policy. I don’t give a?—”
“Don’t.” Ethan pierces me with a look so severe that it would have me running for the hills if I didn’t have the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at me but for me. “ I’ll get one and fit it for you.”
“I…” I trail off, momentarily lost for words. I’d expected him to argue with me. To tell me it was against our rental agreement and we’d risk losing our deposit. “You don’t need to do that,” I eventually manage to respond in a slightly breathless tone.
Ethan’s jaw grinds like he’s chewing on wasps.
“I do, actually.” His gaze drops, but not before I see the flash of guilt and disappointment that darkens his eyes, making them look like dark clouds on a stormy day.
“It never occurred to me that you might not be…comfortable here. I wish I could promise you that you have nothing to fear—” That same weightedness enters his eyes before he looks away.
He seems to stare at nothing for a long moment.
I don’t say anything, don’t wave off whatever he’s trying to say, because this is important. It’s not something to be dismissed.
Blowing out a breath, he returns that heavy stare to me.
“We don’t hate you— I don’t hate you,” he corrects when I go to argue.
“When you first showed up, I didn’t like what your presence meant for the team.
Admittedly,” he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, “I didn’t think you could hack it, but every time you get on that ice, you prove me wrong.
” I’m once again sucked into the swirling vortex of Ethan’s gaze.
“You held your own last night, and I know that can’t have been easy—to play against your old team.
“I still think it would be easier if you weren’t here, but I can see now why Coach vouched for you.”
My eyebrows hitch, my lips curling in a tease. “Did Ethan Maddox just say he liked me?”
“What?!” he splutters, an adorable redness dusting his cheeks. “Absolutely not.”
“I’m pretty sure I just heard you say you liked me.”
Huffing an exaggerated breath, he shakes his head at my shenanigans. “I said no such thing. You’re a pain in my ass, Thorn. One I could definitely live without.”
“You can’t live without me?” I gape at him, fighting back the laughter sitting at the back of my throat as he grows increasingly exasperated with me. “Wow, Ethan, hold your horses. Next, you’re going to tell me you’re head over heels in love with me.”
“Forget it,” he grumbles, lifting a hand as he turns on his heel and stalks into the kitchen.
I follow after him, grinning. It’s incredible to believe that after how last night ended, I’m able to smile this morning.
That, thanks to my roommates , I’m capable of smiling at all. “You can deal with Kyle on your own.”