Chapter Thirteen
LUKE
Blackwood could make anything feel staged if you let it. The halls. The lunches. The way people watched without turning their heads, and how rumors moved faster than truth. Even a Monday night could turn into a performance if the wrong person decided it should.
I refused to give them that.
By the time practice ended, my shoulders had locked into the familiar tension that came with keeping too many plates spinning at once.
Coach ran us hard, then even harder when he sensed we were distracted.
I didn’t blame him. Crestwood had been Friday’s victory.
Today was about discipline and control, regardless of the binding written offers we had accepted for college.
The locker room buzzed with excitement from seniors who knew what their collegiate future held.
I’d known for a long time, regardless of what my family wanted for me.
Today, Jax, Chase, Logan, and I had finalized our plans and signed our agreements.
It wouldn’t be smooth sailing, not for me.
I anticipated hurdles, but none of it mattered.
I would get what I wanted—with Mila at my side.
Theo bumped my shoulder with his as we moved toward the showers. His posture stayed loose, but his eyes remained too alert.
“You’re coming tonight,” he insisted.
I turned my head, meeting his gaze. “To what?”
He tossed his towel into his stall and reached for his hoodie. “A bonfire at the beach to celebrate.”
Chase appeared behind him, hair still damp and his grin already too wide. “Jax has supplies.”
Jax’s laugh rolled low as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Theo has a location, a lighter, and an inflated sense of responsibility.”
Theo flipped him off without looking. “You’re all coming. Avery, Mila, and Tori too.”
My jaw clenched before I could stop it.
Chase’s grin softened into something more measured, as if he understood what that name did to me right now. He stepped closer, dropping his voice.
“We’re not doing drama tonight,” he promised. “We’re doing fire, food, and pretending our lives are not being narrated by select members of the senior class.”
Jax’s gaze flicked toward me. He didn’t ask questions in the locker room. He rarely did. He only offered a single nod.
“You need a reset,” he reminded me.
I did. More than that, Mila did. I could still see her expression from earlier, the way she held Elise’s stare without blinking. That courage didn’t come free. It always cost something later when the adrenaline wore off and the mind started replaying everything it had survived.
I grabbed my phone and texted Mila before I could overthink it.
Me: You good?
Mila: Absolutely. I know where I stand, and I’m not moving.
Elise had to be on her mind. I hated letting her take the lead, but I understood her point. Soon, Elise would have to answer to me.
Me: Good. Stay there. I’m coming for you.
As I headed toward my SUV, my phone buzzed.
Mila: I’ll meet you there. Avery’s already here—she’s driving.
I stared at the message a second longer than necessary. I’d planned on picking her up. I typed back, Okay. See you soon.
It didn’t matter how we got there. What mattered was that we would be together.
The beach road curled along the water as the sun bled out behind the horizon.
Blackwood’s shoreline always looked too beautiful for what the town actually was.
The waves hit the sand with an endless rhythm that had nothing to do with money or influence or old sins. The ocean did not care who owned what.
I drove with the windows cracked, cool air cutting through the lingering scent of the rink. My hands stayed steady on the wheel, but my thoughts refused to settle.
I replayed the cafeteria and the way people watched Mila’s hand in mine. The way their attention stuck to us, hungry and eager for any sign of weakness.
I remembered Elise’s little threats delivered in soft tones, as if cruelty could be polite. Most of all, I kept replaying the way Mila refused to back down.
The SUV’s headlights swept over the turn into the parking lot at the north end of the beach.
The space opened up between the sand and the tree line, a stretch of grass that sloped toward a view of the water.
Someone had already stacked wood in a pit near the center.
Smoke rose in a straight column into the night air.
Folding chairs formed a loose circle. A cooler sat near Theo’s feet.
Music played from a portable speaker, loud enough to create a bubble without turning into a party.
I parked along the edge and stepped out, scanning automatically before my shoes hit the grass.
The field held familiar faces. Teammates.
A handful of seniors and juniors who knew how to keep their mouths shut.
Avery’s friends, Margie and Jasmine. Tori standing near Theo with her arms tucked against her chest, looking more comfortable than she had this morning.
I didn’t see Logan, Elise, or Nina. The absence eased something tight in my ribs.
Jax spotted me and waved. “You’re late.”
Theo’s mouth curved. “He arrived exactly on time for someone who thinks he controls the universe.”
Chase threw an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into the circle with too much force. “We’re celebrating our future hockey stardom.”
“We’re celebrating your inability to stay quiet,” Jax corrected.
“We’re celebrating the fact that Coach cannot run suicides on sand,” Chase added.
Theo’s focus stayed on me. “Where’s Mila?”
I turned toward the parking lot as headlights flared from a car. Avery’s Mercedes rolled in and parked along the edge. She climbed out first, and then Mila stepped out.
My lungs pulled tight for a second. Blue sweater. Long, dark hair down, falling in loose waves around her shoulders. The kind of softness that looked dangerous on her—it made people assume she was easy to break. She was not.
Her eyes found me, and the entire day dimmed at the edges. The noise, the tension, the pressure of Blackwood. All of it fell back when she looked at me that way, steady and warm, as if I was the place her body recognized as safe.
She walked toward me without hesitation. I met her halfway.
My hands found her waist before my mind could stop them. Her body pressed into mine, and the simple fact of her being close slowed my pulse more than any deep breath ever had.
Her arms slid around my back, holding for a second longer than needed.
“You made it,” I murmured against her hair.
She drew back just enough to look at me. “You sound relieved.”
“I am,” I answered. “I missed you.”
Her mouth softened, and she lifted her hand to the front of my hoodie, fingers curling into the fabric the way they had on the school steps. That touch felt like instinct.
I covered her hand with mine, anchoring it there. “You good?” I still worried about Elise’s bullshit and how it affected her.
She held my gaze a moment longer than the question deserved. “I’m better now.”
I leaned in and brushed my mouth over hers. The kiss stayed short, because we weren’t alone—and the world did not deserve our private moments.
Mila’s fingers fisted in my hoodie anyway, and I had to force myself to pull back.
Avery’s voice cut through from behind her. “If you two start making out, I am throwing a shoe.”
Mila turned her head just enough to glare over her shoulder. “You don’t have shoes that can reach us.”
Avery’s grin flashed. “Don’t challenge me.”
Chase made a gagging noise that sounded theatrical enough to be fake. “Please. Take it to the woods and spare us.”
Theo elbowed him hard enough to make him stumble. “Eat something and shut up.”
Jax tossed Chase a wrapped burger from a paper bag. “I brought food because you all act feral when you’re hungry.”
Chase caught it one-handed. “This is why you’re my favorite.”
“You’ve said that to every person who feeds you,” Theo muttered.
Mila’s shoulders eased as the group pulled her into the circle. She sat on a log near the fire, Avery dropping beside her.
I sat behind Mila on the same log and pulled her gently between my legs, giving her my chest as a backrest. She leaned into me without thinking, her spine settling against me as if her body already knew the shape of us.
Her hands stayed warm at my wrists where they rested around her waist. Her touch grounded me in a way I couldn’t explain.
The fire cracked and popped, throwing sparks up into the dark.
The ocean hissed in the distance, steady and indifferent.
Somebody laughed near the cooler. Theo was making a case for somewhere else having better burgers.
Jax treated it like a personal attack. The Grill Shack wasn’t just food. It was tradition.
For the first time since Friday, I felt the world stop pressing in.
Mila tipped her face up slightly, eyes catching mine from the angle. “So why the bonfire on a Monday night?”
I kept my voice low. “We’re celebrating, and we just need a break from the bullshit.”
“Celebrating what?”
I ran my thumb along her wrist, finding her pulse. The beat stayed steady, even if the day had tried to break it. “We all signed our binding agreements with Michigan athletics today.”
“What?” She pushed herself off me and twisted so we were face to face. “That’s fantastic!”
I grinned. “It’s pretty much been a done deal since the end of sophomore year when the coach heavily recruited me. Today was just a formality.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I tugged on a piece of her silky hair, needing the connection.
Her breath moved slow, her body easing more firmly into mine as she leaned back again. “Act like it isn’t a big deal. It is. I’m so happy for you. And the guys.”
She shifted her head slightly, letting her hair brush my jaw, and the sensation sparked down my spine. I pulled her in closer, holding her there like I needed to prove she was real.
“It’s about us, Mila. We’re leaving Blackwood—together.”