Chapter 6
I storm into the locker room, frustration and disappointment burning in my gut after the colossal shit-show on the ice tonight. The familiar smells of sweat, rubber, and defeat hang heavy in the air. My gear feels like lead weights dragging me down as I slink to my locker.
“Tonight was bullshit,” Colton says as he walks to his locker.
Chase sits down next to me without saying anything.
The rest of the team shuffles in but the room is dead quiet.
Before the game, I was already in a bad mood because Addie refused to come to the game.
I needed her support tonight, but she's too stubborn to accept help from me.
It's not an excuse though – I played like shit, and I know it.
My dad's been all over my case about how important this game was.
We all know the drill after a heavy loss like this, and that’s why no one is saying a word.
Andrew comes stomping in, hurling his stick furiously. “Fucking painful.”
Rich comes in behind him with a bad fucking attitude, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary.
The guy’s a dick, and we stay out of his way.
His performance was shit tonight, and I’m sure my dad will be laying into him later.
The coaches have one goal in mind every year, and that’s the Stanley Cup.
If we keep playing like this, we don't stand a chance in hell.
Coach Wilder enters, his face set in a scowl as he goes on about our numerous fuck-ups and missteps on the ice. We sit in silence, heads down, forced to listen to him point out our failures one by one. Then his icy gaze lands on me.
“Ryan. My office. Now.”
I heave a sigh and drop my gear, the sound echoing. Chase gives my shoulder a sympathetic pat as I stand. All eyes are on me as I walk to the office, knowing full well the ass-chewing that awaits me. The guys can hear everything through the thin walls. Same shit, different day.
“You weren't quick enough tonight,” Dad snaps before I've even shut the door. “The team counts on you the most when everyone else is playing like shit.”
I drop into the chair across from him and nod, my gaze drawn to the framed photos lining the wall.
The one of us four kids in our skates and jerseys, tiny hockey sticks in hand, beaming smiles after our little team won a game.
My sister stands out because she’s adorable. It’s too bad she doesn’t play anymore.
“Why is everyone playing like shit?” he asks.
“I don't know,” I mutter.
“What's gotten into you? You've been off all week – slacking in practice, distracted, and you played like absolute shit tonight.”
I stare at my hands. I'm worried about Addie's money problems and she won't let me help. But that's a new thing – I haven't been sucking all week, and I don’t know why he seems to think so.
“Is it a girl?” he asks, and I stay quiet. “It is, isn’t it? And let me guess, that girl didn’t show up to your game tonight?”
I look up at him, pissed off now. One time I let it slip that Addie missed a game, and he fixated on that being why I played shitty. Here he is now, relying on that as an excuse. As if he doesn't put enough pressure on me.
“She's not just any girl,” I say firmly.
He scoffs. “Right. Your 'best friend'. Since when does a grown man have a woman best friend?”
I can't believe he's talking down to me like this. Getting reamed for hockey is one thing, but now he's judging my relationship with Baddie?
“She's more than that,” I reply, meeting his gaze head-on.
“What are you saying?”
I stand abruptly, so angry I can barely speak. I don’t know what I’m saying, but I know I’m pissed about a lot of things. I need to get out of here before I say something I regret. Hand on the doorknob, I pause, glancing back at his scowling face.
“Is she your girlfriend now?” he asks sarcastically.
“Yes, Coach,” I say evenly as I pull the door open. “She is.”
I walk out before he can reply. Adrenaline surges through my veins as I feel his glare boring into my back.
I guess losing this game tonight is all my fucking fault but whatever.
I’m his toilet now that I’m on his team.
He can shit on me all he wants, but I’m flushing this fucking blame down the drain.
My dad and I are close, so he’ll come around, but when he comes down on me this hard, I need space.
I appreciate him pushing me to be my best, but he needs to back the hell off about me and Addie.
Addie.
Baddie Addie.
What the hell am I going to do now that I’ve told my dad she’s more than a friend?
He’s going to speculate that it’s been going on for a while.
Shit, what am I going to tell her? Ask her to fake date me?
Or I could ask her to seriously be my girlfriend.
But if she finds out the circumstances, it’ll hurt her.
Fuck! I pull out my phone to distract myself, hoping to see a few texts from her. She has texted, but it’s Hailey’s text at the top that catches my attention.
Hailey: We need to talk.
I ignore the guys and their curious stares. But of course, they don't let it go.
“What did Coach say?” Chase asks.
I glance at my screen, brow furrowing at Hailey's text.
“Some bullshit about Baddie,” I mutter distractedly as I type out a quick reply.
Ryan: Agree
Andrew chimes in, “She didn't come tonight, huh? Thought you said she was your good luck charm, bro. She needs to show up next time so we can test that theory.”
“Yeah, but the next game should be an easy win,” Colton adds.
Another text comes through.
Hailey: I don't like what happened Monday morning.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. So, she's jealous of my totally platonic running routine with Addie? And she hasn’t mentioned it all this time.
“What did you tell your dad?” Chase presses gently.
“I told him she’s my girlfriend.”
The guys let out a collective "ooooh", Chase's eyebrows practically hitting his hairline. “What about Hailey?”
“My dad doesn't know about her or any of my past girlfriends,” I explain with a shrug. “He only hassles me about Baddie Addie.”
Andrew looks at me. “So, what, you're just juggling two girlfriends now?”
Colton waggles his eyebrows. “Damn, Wilder's got game!”
I huff out a laugh, glad my love life can provide comic relief after that shitty game. Then my phone buzzes.
Hailey: This isn't going to work.
The locker room goes silent as I hold up my phone for them to see. Andrew lets out a low whistle. “Shit bro, did you just get dumped by text?”
“Pretty shit night, huh?” Colton snickers. “Hey, invite the fake girlfriend out with us! I wanna be there when you tell her, and Addie's cool, we can show her a good time, right boys?”
I shake my head. “She's going to murder me when I tell her about this.”
Chase says, “Maybe this is a good thing, Ry. You can finally man up and get your girl for real.”
“What?” I scoff. “You’re out of your mind, Chase.”
“They're just friends,” Andrew sings under his breath. “Besties forever!”
“We all see how crazy you are about her,” Chase continues, ignoring Andrew's childish teasing.
I scrub a hand over my face, exhausted in every possible way. “No, it’s not like that at all. She's going through some stuff right now. And she won't let me help.”
“Dude, that's never good,” Andrew says, suddenly serious. “Chicks always want you to swoop in and save the day.”
“Like I said, we're just friends,” I insist. “It's not like that with us.”
“Riiiiight,” Colton drawls. “But now you get to make it happen for real or play that fake shit and win her either way. I give it a week before you two are banging like rabbits.”
“Stop, man. That’s never happening,” I mumble because it’s true. “I’m friend-zoned. It’s been this way for years, and I don’t think this is going to change anything.”
“It could change everything. You need to show her that you see her as more,” Andrew says.
“I don’t fucking think so, man. We have a good thing going.” They give me eyes. “I’m serious. It’s friendly and nothing more.”
Chase adds, “So, how are you going to tell her that she’s your girlfriend now?”
Just as Colton asks, “You coming out with us tonight, China Wall?”
“I don’t think I’m seeing Addie tonight, so I’ll head home, get ready, and meet you guys for some beers.” I glance at Chase. “And about Baddie, I don’t know what I’m doing.”