Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Dylan
I sit up on the workout bench. My muscles are burning in that satisfying way that tells me I’ve pushed myself enough for one day. The weight room is pretty quiet this morning. Most of the guys are probably sleeping off last night’s party.
Not me, though.
I’ve always been a morning-after workout kind of guy.
I grab my water bottle and take a long sip, then reach for my phone sitting on the bench beside me. Scrolling through social media is my post-workout ritual—not that I’d ever admit how much time I actually spend on it.
Looks like my party was a hit.
The team’s official Instagram account posted a group shot with a caption about team bonding before the holiday break. I tap the like button, smirking at how professional we all look, considering half the guys were three drinks in by then.
My tagged photos are much more interesting.
I stop at the one of me with the two blonde models from last night—Kristin and .
.. Jessica? Jennifer? Something with a J.
They’re pressed against either side of me and looking drop-dead gorgeous.
I look good, too—relaxed, confident. It’s exactly the image I want to project.
Ten thousand likes already. Not bad.
I smash the like button, share it to my story, and keep scrolling.
But I freeze when I see a photo Genna posted.
It’s of her with Cheyenne and Garrett, all three holding drinks in my kitchen.
Garrett’s arm is possessively wrapped around Chey’s waist, his face wearing that smug expression that makes me want to punch something.
Cheyenne is smiling, too, but it’s not her real smile—not the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and makes her look like she’s about to burst into laughter at any second.
No, this is her posed smile. Her boyfriend-is-watching smile.
My thumb hovers over the screen, not sure whether to like it or keep scrolling. Why does seeing them together always make my jaw clench?
“Dylan Williamston checking his social media before he’s even cooled down. Some things never change.”
I look up to see Kade approaching, fresh from the shower, his dark hair still damp.
“Just seeing if anyone captured my good side,” I quip, locking my phone screen. “Spoiler alert: they all did.”
Kade drops onto the bench beside me, the familiar scent of his fancy sandalwood soap filling the space between us. “How’s your head feeling this morning? You were putting them back pretty good by the time Ella and I left.”
“Please.” I wave a hand. “I could drink most of the rookies under the table and still be up for morning skate.”
“Yeah, but you’re not twenty-two anymore, old man.” Kade grins, but his eyes narrow slightly as he studies my face. “Something bothering you? You had that look.”
“What look?” I grab my towel and wipe my face, mostly to avoid Kade’s knowing gaze. He has this annoying ability to read people—comes from being the team dad, I guess.
“That murder-face you get when you’re thinking about something that upsets you.” He nods toward my phone. “Bad press?”
I consider brushing it off, but Kade’s not going to let it go. He’s like a dog with a bone when he thinks something’s wrong. It’s what makes him a good friend—and occasionally a pain in the butt.
“Nah, just ... Cheyenne’s boyfriend, Garrett.” Even saying the name leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Kade leans back. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I pick up my phone again, unlock it, and hand it to Kade. “Look at this picture. Does Chey look happy to you?”
He studies the photo. “She’s smiling.”
“But not really smiling. That’s not her real smile.” I take the phone back and stare at the image. “The guy’s a tool, Kade. You should’ve heard the things he was saying last night.”
“What happened?” Kade’s voice carries that calm, non-judgmental tone he uses when trying to get rookies to open up about their problems.
I hesitate, suddenly feeling ridiculous. But the memory of Garrett’s words makes my skin hot all over again.
“He accused me of flirting with Chey.” The words come out sharper than I intended. “Can you believe that? He said the way we joke around is ‘more than friendship.’ What kind of insecure crap is that?”
Kade’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Well, you two do have a pretty unique dynamic.”
“Because we’ve known each other forever! She’s practically family.” I stand up and shove my phone into my gym bag with more force than necessary. “We basically grew up together. She’s Genna’s best friend. Of course we have inside jokes and stuff.”
“Sure, that makes sense,” Kade agrees, but there’s something in his tone that makes me look at him suspiciously.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “I just wonder why it bothers you so much. If it’s not true, then who cares what Garrett thinks?”
My shoulders tense. It’s a fair question, and the fact that I don’t have a good answer makes me even more annoyed.
“It doesn’t bother me,” I insist, zipping my bag closed with a sharp tug. “It’s just stupid. And disrespectful to Chey that she can’t have male friends without him accusing her of it being something else.”
“Right,” Kade says, drawing the word out just enough to let me know he’s not buying it.
I busy myself with changing out of my sweaty shirt and repacking my gym bag.
The thing is, Garrett’s accusation hit a nerve, but not for the reason anyone might think.
It’s not that I have feelings for Cheyenne—that would be weird, right?
It’s that her boyfriend clearly doesn’t value her, and Chey deserves better than some insecure, controlling tech bro who can’t handle her having friends.
“Besides,” I continue, “the guy’s all wrong for her. I mean, he barely even lets her finish a sentence. Too busy always talking about himself. Gen and I keep waiting for her to realize that he’s a terrible guy, and she just keeps ... staying.”
Kade’s expression becomes difficult to read, and I can already tell he’s about to go into his wise old owl spiel. “Maybe he’s not as bad as you’re making him out to be. I mean, you only see them on what, holidays? I don’t recall seeing your sister and her friend all that often.”
“They come to my games every now and then—well, Genna does. Chey hasn’t really been coming since Garrett walked into her life four years ago.” I roll my lips against each other. “I just think the guy is a piece of work—and not the good kind.”
“And you haven’t once thought that maybe you’re just biased? Maybe he feels threatened by your friendship with Chey, and it brings out the worst in him?”
“Would you stop playing the devil’s advocate?” I snap, shooting him a glare that lacks intensity.
Kade remains silent, which is somehow worse than if he’d argued with me.
“What?” I demand again.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. You’ve got that look.”
“Now who’s reading too much into things?” Kade smirks, then grows more serious. “Look, man, all I’m saying is that if Garrett’s comment got under your skin, maybe ask yourself why.”
“There’s nothing to ask.” I grab my water bottle and take another long swig to avoid continuing this conversation. “Chey’s like a sister to me.”
Even as I say it, something doesn’t sit right. Cheyenne isn’t like a sister to me—not in the way Genna is. Our relationship has always been different.
More like ... I don’t know. Just different.
Kade opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then seems to think better of it. Instead, he just nods. “If you say so.”
“I do say so.” I sit back down on the bench, suddenly needing to change the subject. “Anyway, I need to focus on more important things. Like what prank I’m going to pull on Chey this Thanksgiving. Last year, I put a fake spider in the mashed potatoes, but I need to do better than that.”
“Maybe you should just try to enjoy Thanksgiving and not make it torturous? I mean, your mom probably doesn’t enjoy cleaning up after you two.” He gives me a look that reminds me too much of a father.
I shrug. “Everyone loves our pranks.”
“Do they?” Kade chuckles. “Or do you just love them? I feel like you spend more time on the prank than enjoying your family.”
“Nah,” I counter. “That’s just how I enjoy my family.” I let out a laugh as Kade shakes his head at me. I know he’s a lot of fun, but it takes a lot to keep up with me. I’m like the epitome of fun.
Except to people like Garrett.
Garrett doesn’t seem to be able to understand that Cheyenne and I have been pranking each other since we were kids, me being a few years older than her.
I still remember the first time Genna invited Chey to our Thanksgiving dinner.
It was because her mom had to work a nursing shift at the hospital.
At the time, I couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly work on a holiday—but now I know it’s because her mom was stretching every dollar to provide for Chey, and the holiday pay covered the gaps.
Needless to say, Chey’s been a fixture at our holiday gatherings ever since.
“Did you see that tabloid article with you and that Shelby girl?” Kade’s question comes out of left field, and suddenly, I’m trying to remember who he’s talking about—but I don’t want to be a jerk...
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Didn’t see the article though. I’m sure all the ladies of the internet are trying to figure out if I’m still single. I love it when they all go crazy.”
Kade doesn’t look remotely enthused. “Does it not bother you though? That the whole world thinks that you’re the biggest playboy on the team?”
I shrug, grab my bag, and sling it over my shoulder. “Nah, not really. I mean, first of all, it’s not like I do anything other than flirt and hang out. I’m not like ... a real man hoe.”
“The people reading and writing these articles don’t know that,” Kade points out. “I just don’t know how you’re ever gonna find the right one when you’ve got that kind of reputation. That’s a tough one.”
“I’ll be fine, Santos.” I smirk. “At the very least, I won’t be lonely...”