Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
DYLAN
Istep through the doors of the rink and I can feel the shift in my chest. Not in temperature. In mood. The stiffness in the air. Like everyone’s holding their breath.
Phones slide into pockets as I walk past. Conversations stop mid-sentence. Some of the guys give me nods like nothing’s changed. Others don’t meet my eye. No one says a word, but I can hear it ringing in the silence.
Mia’s not down here yet, even though I brought her in with me, she said she needed to go upstairs first. So her usual spot in the physio room is empty. I want her to walk through that door and shut everyone up with one of those no-nonsense looks that makes even Jacko sit straighter.
But she hasn’t yet. And I can’t say I blame her for hiding upstairs for a bit longer.
I make it to the changing room and dump my bag, sitting heavily on the bench. Murphy’s already there, taping up his stick, chewing gum like it owes him money.
“You seen it yet?” he asks without looking up.
I glance sideways. “Seen what?”
He hands me his phone. It’s a post from one of those fan gossip accounts with thousands of followers.
A side-by-side of the photo from the beach and a blurry zoomed-in screen grab of Mia in the stands during my last game.
The caption reads, “Physio or girlfriend? Dylan ‘Diesel’ Winters in hot water over alleged romance with club staff. Sources say the team is divided.”
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth hurt. The comments are worse.
‘Unprofessional.’
‘Explains why he got so much playing time.’
‘She’s punching.’
‘Typical Diesel, can’t keep it in his pants.’
I shove the phone back at Murphy and stand up too fast, my chest tight. “Where’s Danny?”
Murphy raises his brows. “You planning on hugging it out?”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know, mate. Somewhere he shouldn’t be, if he knows what’s good for him.”
I push past him and head for the gym. The rage is coming in waves now; hot and consuming.
It’s not even just about the photo. It’s the fact he filed the complaint.
He tried to spin something real into some bitter, jealous dig.
Like Mia would ever compromise herself for me.
Like I didn’t work to earn every second I’ve played since I got back.
I hear his voice before I see him. Danny. Loud as always. Laughing with someone near the treadmill, like he hasn’t just set fire to the one good thing in my life.
I don’t think. I just move. “Oi!” I snap, stalking across the room.
He turns, the smirk dropping off his face when he sees me. “Mate,”
I slam him up against the wall before he gets another word out. “What the fuck did you say to them?” I growl, my forearm against his chest. He shoves back, trying to act tough, but I’ve got twenty pounds on him and a hell of a lot more rage.
“I said the truth,” he spits. “You’re getting special treatment and everyone knows it.”
“You petty little shit,” I hiss. “You didn’t have the balls to say it to my face?”
“You think you’re untouchable because you score a few goals and get your dick wet with the physio?”
I see red and pull my fist back… And then Murphy’s there, between us, shoving me off. “Enough!” he barks, eyes blazing.
“Get out of my way,” I snarl, but he’s not moving.
“You think this helps anything? Think Mia wants to see you knocking out teammates like some caveman?”
My chest heaves. Danny’s still glaring, rubbing his shoulder.
Murphy turns on him next. “And you. Filing complaints because you can’t keep your spot on the line-up? That’s low, even for you.”
“I told the truth,” Danny mutters, but he looks smaller now.
“No,” Murphy says. “You made it personal. And that makes you a coward.”
Danny storms out, swearing under his breath. I’m left shaking, my fists still clenched, and my heart trying to punch its way out of my chest.
Murphy claps a hand on my shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “We’re going for a walk before you get benched for murder.”
We end up outside, behind the rink, where the staff take smoke breaks and chuck snowballs when training is too intense. I lean against the wall, trying to calm down, trying not to think about what Mia would say if she saw me lose it like that.
“She’s not gonna want to be anywhere near this now,” I say bitterly. “I’ve made it worse.”
Murphy leans beside me. “You think she doesn’t already know who you are?”
I shake my head. “She trusted me to keep this under wraps. To keep her safe. I couldn’t even do that.”
“She’s not looking for you to save her, mate. She picked you knowing the risks.”
“She didn’t pick this though. Being dragged through the mud. Getting blamed like she used her job to get close to me. Like I didn’t fall first.”
Murphy exhales, slow and thoughtful. “You love her.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Then stop swinging like you’ve got something to prove. She doesn’t need your fists. She needs your steadiness. Your backbone.” I go quiet. Because I know he’s right. “Fight for her,” he says. “But not like that. Not like Danny’s the problem.”
I nod. “She stayed last night,” I tell him after a beat. “Didn’t want her driving.”
“Good.”
“She didn’t sleep.”
“I’d be surprised if either of you did.”
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. “She’s scared. And I hate that she has to be.”
“She’s not alone. That’s what counts.”
I swallow hard. “If she walks away from me to keep her job, I won’t stop her.”
Murphy looks over. “But?”
“But I hope she doesn’t. I hope she knows we’re better than how this looks.”
“You are. People forget shit real fast, Dylan. Season ends; stories change. You play your game, she does her job, and eventually, this will pass.”
“I don’t want to hide it anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
“It might cost her everything.”
“And still,” Murphy fixes me with a look. “you’d do it again?”
I nod. “Every damn second.”
He claps my shoulder again. “Then you’ve got your answer, mate. Just be smart about what comes next.”
Back in the changing room, everything’s quieter. Danny’s nowhere to be seen. Jacko’s got a tray of protein muffins and offers me one like nothing’s happened. I shake my head, checking my phone for the hundredth time. No messages. Mia still hasn’t texted or appeared from upstairs.
Not yet.
And it’s that silence I hate the most. Not the rumours. Not the glares. Not even the fallout. It’s waiting for her to decide if we can survive this. If I am still worth it. Because I know what my answer would be, I just have to hope hers hasn’t changed.