Chapter 18 Lexi
Lexi
When I get back to my dorm, my phone buzzes.
Koa: Meet me tomorrow morning at the rink.
I stare at the message. My body is still buzzing from standing in his room half-naked, from the way his eyes traced every inch of my skin like he was memorizing me.
Lexi: Why?
Koa: You’ll see.
I sit on the edge of my bed, pulling my knees up to my chest. The room is dark except for the glow of my phone screen.
Lexi: Don’t tell me you play hockey.
Nothing. No three dots. No immediate response.
I wait.
Still nothing.
Lexi: Omg, do you play hockey?
The silence stretches. I refresh the conversation. Nothing.
Lexi: Leaving me on read is so not cool. Do you play hockey?
Finally, his response comes through.
Koa: You’ll find out tomorrow morning.
I throw my phone onto the bed and fall back against the pillow.
Suddenly, tomorrow morning can’t come fast enough.
But then my mind shifts. Back to the hospital. Back to Axel on that gurney, pale and passed out. The terror that gripped my chest when I thought I might lose him.
I can’t control what my brother does.
The thought sits heavy in my chest, suffocating and freeing at the same time.
He’s cut off. Koa promised. But Axel still found pills. Still took six of them. Still ended up in the hospital with a tube down his throat.
Wait.
Is Thea supplying him?
The thought makes my stomach turn. She wouldn’t do that. Would she?
Yes. She would. She’s been sleeping with him all summer. Doing coke with him. Pills.
I shouldn’t underestimate her. Or anyone, apparently.
I close my eyes and try to sleep. But all I see is Axel. Mom. The pills rolling under the stove.
The next morning, I’m half-awake when Scarlett’s alarm goes off.
She moves around the room quietly, getting ready for her early class. I keep my eyes closed, pretending to sleep.
“Your friend was here last night,” she says like she knows I’m awake.
I open my eyes, exhausted. “My friend?”
She nods, pulling her hair into a ponytail. “When you were sleeping.”
I sit up, laughing like it’s a joke. My throat is dry. “What fucking friend?”
“Your tall guy friend.”
My heart stops. “No. No way.”
“I saw what I saw.” She shrugs, slipping on her shoes.
I look around the room, scanning for anything out of place. My laptop is still closed on my desk. My phone is on the nightstand. Nothing looks touched.
“What was he doing?” I ask, voice tight.
She shrugs again. “Just standing there. By your bed. Staring. It freaked me out.”
“What the fuck?” I gasp, still trying to wake up.
“Yeah.” She grabs her backpack. “I didn’t know if I should say something or not. But I figured you’d want to know.”
She leaves, and I’m left sitting in my bed, staring at the spot where she said he stood.
Standing there.
Watching me sleep.
What the actual fuck?
I get ready fast—jeans, hoodie, sneakers. No makeup. Hair pulled back.
I’m determined to figure out what the hell is going on.
The rink is freezing, even inside. My breath fogs in the air as I step through the entrance. The sound of skates cutting across ice echoes through the empty space.
I walk down the corridor toward the rink itself, and that’s when I see a guy on skates, moving across the ice. Then another one flies out of nowhere, stick in hand, chasing a puck.
When they turn and notice me, the taller one skates over and jumps out of the rink in one smooth motion.
He removes his helmet, shaking his head so his hair falls back into place.
Koa.
“You made it.”
“You play hockey.” It’s not a question. Just a statement of disbelief.
“It’s just morning skate. Official season starts next week.” He steps closer, eyes searching my face. “You okay?”
I stare at him. His grey eyes are clearer in the rink lighting, sharper. He’s extra tall with the skates on, towering over me. And he’s in his element. I can see it in the set of his shoulders, the ease in his stance.
This is him…where he belongs.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I want to watch you skate.”
He leans down and kisses my cheek. His lips are cool from the ice. “I do a lot more than just skate circles, babe.”
I watch him walk back to the rink entrance. My eyes drop to his ass, and I can’t help it. The way the hockey pants fit, the confidence in every movement.
I make my way to the seats, climbing a few rows up. The cold plastic bites through my jeans as I sit.
He races across the rink with the puck in front of him, stick handling it like he’s a professional. Then he winds up and slaps it into the net.
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
He’s controlled. Powerful. Graceful in a way that makes no sense for someone so big, so violent.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
What can’t this man do?
My stomach flips. Not sick butterflies. Something else.
I underestimated him.
He’s a massive drug dealer. Probably rich. Beats guys without blinking. Hustles. Plays drums. And now this?
He’s a hockey player.
And then it hits me.
This is how he’s earning my respect.
I walk down to the edge of the rink and wave him over.
He slides the puck into the net one more time, then skates over, breathing hard through his helmet.
“Take that off for a second,” I say.
He removes it, shakes his head the same way as before. Hair falling perfectly into place. It’s hot as hell to watch.
I grab the collar of his jersey and yank him down. I go up on my toes to meet him halfway.
His lips are cool at first. Then warm. Then burning.
I drown in his kiss as he works his tongue against mine. We fight for dominance—whose tongue goes where, who’s in control. Then I let him win, sucking on his tongue, pulling him deeper.
He groans, low and guttural, not wanting to stop.
But I pull back, remembering where we are.
“What was that for?” he asks, breathless.
His eyes are bright. Almost blue in this light. Deep like the ocean.
And he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me.
“Lexi,” he warns, reaching for me.
I take a step back so he can’t reach.
“Is that it?” he asks, voice rough.
I touch my lips that are still tingling and nod.
He puts his helmet back on. “Fuck.”
He skates away, and I admire the way he moves—the confidence in his shoulders, the aggression in every stride.
When he turns around to look at me, he grabs his crotch, adjusting himself.
I blush. He’s hard while playing. I did that. Heat pools low in my belly. I lick my lips, still tasting him.
After ten minutes, I have to leave. Class is starting soon.
I pull out my phone as I walk across campus and call Axel.
No answer.
I call Thea.
No answer.
I text Thea.
Lexi: Is Axel okay?
No response.
I sit through my lecture with guilt eating me alive. I want to be there for Axel. But Thea’s words from last night loop in my head.
Axel thinks you’re controlling, and he said you’re the last person he wants to see.
Yeah, he was high, but come on, Lex. What you’re doing is not cool. Just because you have this drug dealer boyfriend, you think you’re a badass and can control the narrative?
Koa is just using you to sleep with you. Once that wears off, Axel will get his supply back again, and he still won’t want to talk to you.
Her words are eating me alive.
I don’t understand why it’s like this. All I’m doing is trying to help, do the right thing, save my brother.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the professor without seeing him.
Maybe I should stop caring. Maybe it would be easier to just not protect him. Not save him.
Even if he almost died last night.
Last night was my last straw.
My phone buzzes.
Thea’s calling.
I glance at the clock. Ten minutes left in lecture. I answer, ducking my head.
“Your boyfriend’s here and he’s taking Axel!” Thea’s voice is panicked.
“What?” I ask, confused. I thought Koa had class.
“He’s taking him in his fucking car! I don’t know where—”
“What do you want me to do?” I ask. It’s not like I can teleport there.
“You didn’t plan this?”
“No!”
I hear her talking to someone else. Muffled voices. Then, “Oh, I can come with?”
Koa’s voice in the background. Low, firm.
My gut sinks. What the hell is he doing right now?
I hear a car door slam. The engine starts.
“Put me on speaker!” I shout.
The entire class turns to stare at me.
“Sorry,” I mouth, face burning.
“Koa, where are you taking my brother?” My voice shakes.
“Rehab.”
I gasp. The word hits me like a punch to the chest.
Thea laughs. Bitter. Disbelieving.
Axel groans in the background.
“What?” I gasp.
“Yeah.” Koa’s voice is calm. Matter-of-fact. “Taking your ole brother here to fucking rehab. He wants to kill himself over being cut off? Brother’s got a problem, so he needs rehab.”
Tears fill my eyes. They spill over before I can stop them.
Someone gets it.
Someone finally understands how I feel and acts on it.
“Thank you,” I whisper as my voice cracks.
Thea starts to snap, but I end the call and sink into my seat.
My hands are shaking. Tears stream down my face. I press my palms to my eyes, trying to stop them.
Koa can’t be fucking serious.
He’s taking my brother to rehab.
He has those connections?
I look around the room, at the other students taking notes, at the professor speaking about I don’t know what anymore.
Nobody will share my joy.
Nobody will ever understand how much it means to me that the terrifying, violent, drug-dealing man I kissed this morning just did the one thing I’ve been trying to do for months.
And I didn’t even have to ask.
He’s saving my brother from the one thing that’s going to steal his life away, if not kill him.
And there’s not one person in this world that will ever understand how much that fucking means to me.
And I don’t know if I should laugh or cry or both.