Chapter 35
GRAYSON
Istep off the ice like my legs are still skating without me.
Practice ends the way it always does, but my body feels…split.
Half of me is still in a dorm room with Harlow, the other half is here, in the fluorescent reality of being a senior hockey player who should be thinking about plays and tape jobs and not spiraling over the fact that we play her disgusting ex’s team in a few days.
Coach Graves says something at the door—about effort, about being sharp, about us not having time to get comfortable—and I nod like I’m listening.
I am, sort of, but my brain is still with Harlow.
I strip off my gear with the kind of efficiency that comes from doing this my whole life. Tape off. Pads off. Jersey peeled away, like I can take the weight with it.
Kai is quiet across the room, still in his base layer, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
Kai this quiet isn’t unusual, but him being quiet after practice is.
Weston chirps someone and gets a towel lobbed at his head. Asher moves past the stalls with that calm, steady presence like he’s immune to chaos, which I’m starting to think might be true.
I catch his eye for half a second, and he gives me the slightest lift of his brows, calling me on my shit without saying a word before following Weston out of the locker room.
Kai stands when the last guy clears out, and I track him without meaning to. He’s tense at the shoulders. Jaw set. Eyes too sharp and too unfocused at the same time.
He waits until the locker room is mostly empty, then jerks his chin at the bench by the far wall.
I sit. Kai drops down beside me, forearms on his thighs, hands clasped so tight his knuckles go pale. He stares straight ahead. Doesn’t look at me. Which is how I know he’s about to say something that scares him.
“This Tuesday,” he says.
My stomach tightens. “Yeah.”
Kai drags a hand over his mouth like he’s trying to wipe the words off before they come out. “I don’t like that game.”
“I figured,” I say.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “You’ve figured a lot lately.”
That lands weirdly, but I let it pass. Because Kai isn’t in a place for me to get defensive.
He swallows, throat working once. “Rushton.”
The name hits like a puck to the ribs.
Even before I knew everything, games against South Valley had always carried a charge in Kai. The way he plays when we face them. The way his temper sits closer to the surface.
Kai’s jaw ticks. “He got in her head. Quietly. On purpose. And by the time anyone saw it—”
His voice cuts off.
His eyes flash to mine again, pain and anger braided together. “So I did the only thing I could. I made sure he never got near her again.”
I nod once. My jaw is clenched so hard it aches.
Kai stares at the floor. “That’s why I’m always angrier when we play them.”
“I get it,” I say.
Kai’s laugh is short and bitter. “Do you?”
“Yes,” I say, immediate and honest, with zero hesitation.
“There’s just about nothing I wouldn’t go back and do to protect Owen from the accident, and he was my older brother, not younger.
I feel like you’d be even more inclined to protect your younger sister to the best of your ability.
And trust me, I’m not going to let him near her either. ”
Kai’s head snaps toward me.
For a second, I think he’s going to bite my head off for saying it like I have any claim, but his expression shifts into something quieter. Not approval or permission, but acknowledgment mixed with respect, like he knows what I’m really saying. That this isn’t a game to me. She isn’t a game.
Kai blows out a long breath and stands abruptly. “I need food before I kill someone.”
“Good plan,” I mutter, pushing off the bench.
We walk out together, the hallway echoing with our skates in our hands, the smell of the rink still clinging to us.
Outside, the air is cold enough to clear my head—almost. Kai’s shoulders are still tight.
His steps are sharp on the sidewalk, like he’s walking out tension instead of talking through it.
We don’t go back to the apartment. We head toward the little campus café that serves sandwiches that taste like cardboard and comfort at the same time.
Kai orders like he’s never eaten in his life. I get whatever comes up first, because I’m not hungry, my body still running on adrenaline and something else that makes my chest feel too full.
We sit at a small table by the window, and Kai stares at his drink like it owes him money.
I watch him for a beat before speaking. “You good?”
Kai snorts. “No.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Same.”
He finally takes a bite of his sandwich and chews like he’s mad at it. Then he says, without looking at me, “How is she? Really. I know you’ve been spending a good bit of time with her.”
“I’m not going to give you a play-by-play,” I say.
Kai’s mouth twitches, and his gaze lifts briefly. “I’m not asking for that.”
“I think she’s doing pretty well, honestly. It’s been a big adjustment, but she’s strong, man. Probably stronger than either of us knows, honestly.”
Kai’s eyes narrow. “Because of you?”
“Not because of me,” I say carefully. “Because she’s fighting every day to feel secure and confident again. I’m just…there, supporting her in whatever way she needs me to.”
Kai’s jaw works like he’s biting back ten protective instincts.
Then he exhales. “I’m trying. I trust you, man, I do. But she’s my sister, and we’ve been down the dating my teammate path before.”
I nod. “I see that. But you know I’m nothing like him.”
His gaze flicks away. “It makes me nervous to follow her lead.”
The honesty in that sentence hits me harder than I expect. Kai’s voice goes quieter. “Because what if she walks straight into something that hurts her again?”
My heart squeezes in my chest because the last thing I’d ever want is for Harlow to be hurt in any way, but I also know what my best friend needs to hear right now.
“She’s going to get hurt sometimes,” I say gently. “That’s life. But she can’t truly live her life if you keep her in bubble wrap.”
Kai looks like he hates that I’m right. He takes another bite, then swallows hard.
“If she tells me to back off…I’ll back off. I just need to know she’ll actually tell me when she needs me. Not go hide until it’s too bad for me to help.”
My throat tightens.
“She will,” I say. “She’s learning.”
Kai nods once, like that’s the closest he can get to relief.
The silence sits between us for a moment.
I crush up the wrapper of my sandwich and send it sailing for the trash can a few feet away. “Anything else on your mind?”
Kai steels his gaze, but I know him well, and he says exactly what I’m expecting. “Wren.”
There it is.
I keep my expression neutral. “Yeah. What happened between you two?”
Kai’s jaw tightens like he can feel old history rising up from the floorboards.
“A lot.” Kai exhales through his nose. “It’s awkward.”
“Shocking,” I deadpan.
He glares at me, then his mouth twitches like he might laugh if his life weren’t a constant state of control.
“She looks…the same as the last time I saw her three years ago,” he says. “But also not.”
I nod slowly. “Harlow missed her.”
Kai’s eyes flick up. “I know.”
A moment passes, and I wait patiently for him to continue.
Then, like the words rip out before he can stop them, “We dated all through middle school and high school. Then we didn’t. She’s been studying abroad for nine or so months in London or something.”
My brow lifts, and he drags both hands down his face.
“So is she just visiting or…?” I ask.
Kai’s jaw flexes. “Nope. She’s staying. Her mom and siblings live about thirty minutes from here, and apparently she’s going to be here finishing up her degree.”
Kai clears his throat and shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth like it can keep him from saying anything else vulnerable.
It doesn’t. He swallows and adds, quieter, “I didn’t plan on ever seeing her again, at least regularly.
She’s my sister’s best friend, so I banked on a few awkward encounters but not so… often.”
“I figured,” I say.
Kai’s eyes meet mine, sharp. “Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
I lift my hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.”
He huffs a laugh, short and unwilling.
Then my phone buzzes on the table. One message. Harlow.
Harlow: You alive after practice, or did Coach murder you for being a little late?
My chest goes tight-warm so fast it’s embarrassing. Kai’s gaze drops to my phone, then up to my face. He doesn’t say anything, but his eye roll speaks for him. I pick up my phone, thumbs moving before I can overthink it.
Grayson: alive. barely.
Harlow: Are you coming over later?
Chewing the inside of my lip, I glance at Kai. He’s watching me like he’s trying not to watch, like he’s giving me space while still being Kai. I type back anyway.
Grayson: yeah. if you want me to.
Grayson: call?
A second later, my phone rings.
I stand up so fast my chair scrapes.
Kai’s brows lift. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, already walking. “I’ll be right back.”
I step outside the café, cold air biting my lungs.
Answer.
“Hey, baby.”
Her breath comes through the line first, quiet and familiar. Then her voice, soft like she doesn’t want anyone nearby to hear.
“Hey, Gray.”
My cheeks hurt from how big my grin is. I fucking love it when she calls me that. It’s one syllable. A nickname. It shouldn’t do what it does.
My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “Hi.”
She laughs softly, like she knows exactly what she just did.
“I take it you’re done with practice?” she asks.
I swallow. “Yeah. I was actually just having lunch with your brother.”
Harlow’s voice turns quieter. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your time with Kai.”
I huff a laugh, low. “I wanted you to.”
“Oops,” she whispers, but I can hear the smile in it.
I lean my forehead against the cold brick outside the café, eyes closing.
“What are you up to?” I ask softly.
Harlow’s breath shifts on the other end of the line. “Oh, uh, nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.”
Something so simple, yet it brings a stupid grin to my face again.
“You want me to come by your dorm in a bit?”
“Yes,” she says immediately. Then quieter, “If you want to.”
“I want to,” I answer.
Harlow exhales, “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon, gorgeous. Bye.”
I hang up and just stand there for a second, breathing through the warmth in my chest. Then I go back inside, and Kai looks up as I sit down. His gaze is curious and a bit too perceptive.
“What?” I say, defensive on instinct.
Kai’s mouth twitches. “Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes. “That was not nothing.”
Kai takes a slow sip of his drink and finally says, quiet and dry, “She’s got you whipped as shit.”
My face goes hot.
I glare. “Eat your sandwich.”
“I already finished.” Kai huffs a laugh. “Good luck, Bennett.”
I pick up my drink, trying to act like my entire nervous system isn’t buzzing.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Thanks.” But as I stand to leave, grabbing my bag, I meet Kai’s eyes. The joking fades a fraction.
I say quietly, “I meant what I said about Rushton.”
Kai holds my gaze for a long beat, then he nods once.
“Yeah,” he says. “I know. We’ll be ready for them, though, especially him.”
I leave the café with my chest tight and my head loud and one clear thing burning under it all—
Tuesday is going to be interesting, but tonight, I get to see her.