Chapter 6
Chapter Six
SUTTON
Iknow something is wrong with Declan.
He's shutting me out again, just like during the first year, and it's terrifying. Every time I try to talk to him, he gives me the same practiced smile and says he's fine. But I can see it in his eyes—the worry, the stress, the weight of whatever he's dealing with.
And he won't let me help.
So I do what I always do when I can't control something: I throw myself into everything else.
Practice becomes my sanctuary. I push myself harder than I have all season, staying late to run drills until my legs are shaking and my lungs are burning. Coach notices and pulls me aside after the morning skate.
"Webb, are you trying to kill yourself before the season even starts?"
"Just making sure I'm ready."
"You're more than ready. You're captain for a reason." She studies my face. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Everything's fine."
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. I realize I sound just like Declan.
Keira sees through it immediately when we meet for lunch.
"You look exhausted."
"Thanks. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear."
"I'm serious, Sutton. When's the last time you slept a full night?"
I pick at my salad. "I sleep."
"For like three hours at a time, maybe." She leans forward. "What's going on? Is it Declan?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." I set down my fork. "He's been weird lately. Stressed about something he won't talk about. And I'm trying to give him space as he asked, but it's killing me."
"Have you tried talking to him again?"
"Every time I do, he shuts down. He says it's just hockey pressure and his dad being demanding. But it feels like more than that."
"Do you think he's..." She trails off, not wanting to say it.
"Cheating? No. God, no. It's not that." At least, I don't think it's that.
“Are you sure you’re not letting the Bree thing get to you?”
Bree is worse than a bad rash. “No. She’s obnoxious, and I know her game, but I trust Declan.”
“Good. Not that I’m in your relationship, but I trust him. This isn't freshman year. You guys are different now."
"Are we? Because it doesn't feel different. It feels like we’re both stunted. We get up and go to practice and school. I go to work when he’s at practice, and then we go to bed together."
"Give it time. Whatever he's dealing with, he'll tell you when he's ready. He’s a guy. They work through stuff their own way."
I want to believe her. I really do.
That evening, Ashton cooks dinner for everyone. It's his night on the rotation, and he actually makes a decent pasta primavera. We all crowd around the kitchen table—me, Declan, Ashton, Crew, Pierce, and Holden.
It almost feels normal. Like we're just a house full of college students sharing a meal.
Except for the constant buzzing of Declan's phone.
It starts during dinner. His phone lights up on the table. I catch a glimpse of the name: Dad.
Declan silences it without looking and keeps eating.
Two minutes later, it buzzes again.
And again.
Holy shit. No wonder Declan is stressed out. I love my dad, but if he called me every two minutes, we would be having a very loud conversation about space.
"You gonna get that?" Crew asks through a mouthful of pasta.
"Nope."
"Dude, it's been going off for like ten minutes. Maybe it's important."
"It's not."
“I don’t think my dad even has my number,” Pierce jokes.
Declan shrugs. “You know how he is. Always has opinions about my game." He forces a smile. "Nothing I can't handle."
The guys exchange glances but don't say anything. I get the feeling they know more than I do, which only makes the knot in my stomach tighter.
After dinner, I help Ashton with the dishes while the guys migrate to the living room for the game.
"Is Declan okay?" I ask quietly.
Ashton scrubs a plate. "You should ask him that."
"I have. He won't talk to me."
"Then I definitely can't tell you."
What the hell is going on?
Later that night, I find Declan on the back porch. He's sitting on the steps, staring at his phone.
"Hey," I say softly, sitting beside him.
"Hey." He puts the phone away quickly.
"Want to talk about it?"
"About what?"
“Anything?”
I assume he’s going to tell me nothing is wrong. I agreed not to bug him, and I would stick to that, but I had to ask at least once.
"Sometimes I feel like nothing I do is good enough for him,” he says quietly.
My heart aches. "Declan, you're an amazing player."
"Not according to him. I should have gone pro at eighteen. I should have been drafted already. I should be in the NHL, not playing college hockey." He looks at me. "He thinks I wasted four years getting a degree when I should have been building my career."
"That's not fair."
"No, it's not. But it's how he thinks." He takes my hand.
"You can talk to me about this stuff. You know that, right?"
"I know. I'm sorry." He pulls me closer. "I don't want to drag you into my family drama."
"I want to be dragged in. That's what girlfriends are for."
He kisses the top of my head. "I like the sound of that."
We sit like that for a while, just holding each other. The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, and I feel like maybe—maybe—we're turning a corner.
Maybe he's finally letting me in.
"Thank you," he says softly.
"For what?"
"For not giving up on me. Even when I'm being difficult."
"You're worth it." I tilt my head up to kiss him. "Just promise me you'll talk to me when things get too heavy. Don't try to carry everything alone."
"I promise."
We head back inside just as Holden and Bree arrive. My good mood immediately sours.
Bree is wearing a tight crop top and high-waisted jeans that make her legs look about a mile long. Her hair is perfectly curled, her makeup is flawless, and she's laughing at something Holden said with that tinkling laugh that makes me want to throw something.
"Hey, guys!" She waves at us like we're all best friends.
Declan's hand tightens on mine. "Hey."
I watch as Bree wraps her skinny body around Holden, but her eyes are on Declan. There’s a look. The one that says she's not really here for Holden at all. How can these guys not see it?
Something shifts in me—a decision.
I'm done being intimidated by her. This is my house. My boyfriend. My life.
"Come on," I say to Declan, pulling him toward the living room.
The guys have already claimed the good spots—Ashton and Pierce on one couch, Crew sprawled on the floor. Holden settles into the armchair, and Bree immediately perches on the arm beside him.
But her eyes are still on Declan.
I guide us to the other couch and deliberately position myself in Declan's lap, his arms wrapping around my waist. I can feel Bree watching us, and instead of shrinking away, I lean into it.
"You comfortable?" Declan murmurs in my ear.
"Very." I tilt my head to kiss him, slow and deliberate with lots of tongue.
When I pull back, I catch Bree's expression. Her smile has frozen, and her eyes narrow slightly.
Good.
Throughout the game, I make sure she sees everything. Every time Declan's hand slides up my thigh. Every time I play with his hair. Every kiss, every touch, every moment of casual intimacy that says exactly what I want it to say: he's mine.
Declan catches on pretty quickly. "What are you doing?" he whispers during a commercial break.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. You're putting on a show."
"Maybe I just really like my boyfriend." I kiss his jaw. "Is that a crime?"
"Not at all, but you know you don’t need to do this. You trust me, right?”
“I do.”
I kiss him again.
Bree is staring daggers at me. I can feel it. I casually look over my shoulder to make sure. Holden is oblivious, focused on the game, but Bree looks like she wants to murder me.
Perfect.
“I didn’t know you could be so catty,” Declan teases.
"She needs to know you're taken. Completely, totally, irrevocably taken."
His eyes darken. "Oh, I'm taken, am I?"
"Absolutely."
"And do I have a say in this?"
"Not even a little bit."
This time, I don't hold back. I kiss him like we're alone in the room, like there aren't five other people around us. I’m not usually the PDA type, but dammit, I’m staking my claim.
When we finally break apart, Bree is standing up.
"I'm leaving," she announces.
"What? Why?" Holden looks confused. "The game's not even over."
"I have an early class tomorrow. I need to go."
"But—"
"Now, Holden." Her voice is sharp.
Holden gets up, looking between her and us with dawning realization. "Uh, yeah. Okay. We'll catch you guys later."
Bree doesn't say goodbye. She just storms out, Holden trailing behind her like a confused puppy.
The second the door closes, Crew bursts out laughing. "Holy shit, Sutton. That was brutal."
"What?" I try to look innocent.
"You just marked your territory so hard I'm pretty sure we all need to acknowledge Declan as property of Sutton Webb."
I grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
"No, he's right," Pierce says with a grin. "That was a masterclass in psychological warfare. Bree looked like she wanted to set you on fire."
"Good," I say, and I mean it.
Ashton shakes his head, but he's smiling. "Remind me never to piss you off."
Declan's arms tighten around me. "That was mean."
"She had it coming."
"She definitely had it coming," he agrees. "But also kind of hot?"
"Kind of?"
"Very hot." He kisses my neck. "Possessive looks good on you."
"Yeah, well, get used to it. Because I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." His voice drops lower. "Because neither am I."
He's mine.
And I'm not sharing.