3. Brashe
CHAPTER THREE
brASHE
Veskar was mid-sentence, saying something about the playoff rotation and how Coach wanted to run more defensive drills before the postseason kicked off, when the air in the hallway changed.
Like the seconds before a breakaway, when you could feel the forward coming even though you hadn’t seen him yet. It made the back of my neck prickle.
I turned my head.
She strode down the corridor, wearing a gray blazer that was fitted at the waist, and a snug dark skirt that hugged all her generous curves.
She’d pulled her hair back in one of those twists that looked easy but probably wasn’t.
She held a tablet against her ribs. Her chin remained level, her gaze forward, and her flats clicked on the polished floor in a rhythm that said she knew exactly where she was going, and she didn’t need permission to get there.
My brain caught up half a second too late.
Ellie.
The name hit me center mass, hard enough to crack a rib.
The yellow dress. The gorgeous smile. The way she’d looked at me as if I was worth seeing, right before I made damn sure she’d never do it again.
Sleeves that showed off the curve of her arms. A skirt that moved when she did, the fabric catching light like sunshine. At the picnic, she’d tilted her head when she looked up at me, quirking her mouth at one corner. Her green eyes had held amusement and interest. My pulse had stuttered.
“Do all goalies have a god complex, or is it just the ones who can do splits?” she’d asked in a sultry voice that made me have thoughts I had no business thinking about Crim’s sister.
She’d smelled like rum and pineapple.
That Ellie was walking past me now.
She didn’t glance my way or slow. Her gaze stayed forward, as if I were an empty cardboard box left in the hall.
No, as if I was drywall. Paint.
The conversation I’d been having died in my throat.
Veskar said something, but the words didn’t come through as anything but noise.
I watched her walk away.
Again.
“Are you alright? Brashe?” Veskar’s voice cut through the clamor in my head. When I turned, he was studying me with an open curiosity that told me he’d seen whatever had just happened on my face.
“I’m fine.” The words came out too fast. Not casual enough. “What were you saying?”
His grin started slow and spread wider.
“That’s the new physical therapist,” he said. “Patty’s new hire. Eleanor something.”
My jaw locked. “It’s Ellie.”
He frowned before he shook it off. “She started today.” He propped his shoulder against the wall beside me, still grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“I’ve got an appointment with her tomorrow, and let me tell you…
Now that I’ve seen her, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight. ”
Heat flared in my chest. I wanted to growl that she was mine, which was ridiculous, given that she’d walked past me like I didn’t exist.
I’d earned every second of it.
I kept my voice flat. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Veskar’s grin widened. “Sure you didn’t.”
He let the silence stretch, watching me. Waiting.
“She’s Crim’s sister, apparently,” he finally said. “They adopted her when her parents died.” He said it casually, as if it wasn’t a grenade rolling across the floor between us. “She’s a doctor.”
Crim didn’t talk about her often, but when he did, his words held a protective edge that made it clear she was off-limits in every way that mattered. His sister. Not by blood, but by choice. Which, in orc culture, made it more significant than blood.
Crim was one of the few people on this team who didn’t look at me and see only the brute in the net. He asked how I was doing, and he meant it. He treated me like I was more than the weapon Coach sent out to intimidate the other team.
I didn’t have many people in my life like that.
None, actually.
I wasn’t going to blow that up for a woman at a party, not even one who’d made my chest do things I still didn’t have words for.
Veskar pushed off the wall, his smile showing how pleased he was with himself.
“Relax, Kedish.” He smacked me on the arm as he passed. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
He strolled away, whistling through his tusks.
I stared at the empty hallway where she’d disappeared before making myself move.
The locker room smelled like sweat. Tolrek was already there, unlacing his skates. He didn’t look up when I walked in, but he nodded once in acknowledgment.
Good. I didn’t want to talk.
We’d just finished practice. I’d already removed my pads, gloves, and outer gear and handed them off to the staff. They would clean them and hang them to dry. But I still wore the sweaty stuff underneath, plus a hoodie I’d thrown on after removing my outer gear.
I peeled off my hoodie and the compression shirt underneath, then my pants, and tossed everything into the laundry bucket.
I’d come off the ice sweaty and half-feral, yanking everything off before limping out into the hallway, where Veskar had cornered me with a few questions.
I headed for the shower, where I hoped I could make my brain shut off.
I kept picturing the end-of-the-season picnic ten months ago.
The sun had been shining, and even though we’d lost in the second round of playoffs, I’d felt good.
Like the world had been dipped in honey.
Paper lanterns had been strung between trees, and they swayed in the light breeze.
Food covered the tables, and my teammates and their families were drinking and laughing and pretending the season hadn’t just ended with a loss.
I’d been holding court near the grills, telling some story I didn’t remember now. The usual show I put on for cover. Make them laugh. Keep it light. Don’t let them see past the grin.
Ellie walked straight up to me as if she’d decided I was worth her time and she’d come to collect.
Women approached me all the time. It came with the territory: the size, the tusks, and the reputation. Some wanted a thrill. Others wanted a story. Some just wanted to say they’d bagged the brutal goalie everyone gossiped about.
Ellie coming up to me hadn’t seemed like that. It felt like she’d looked around the whole damn pavilion full of players, coaches, staff, and their families, and picked me.
While she stood there teasing me about god complexes, I’d been two seconds from asking her if she wanted to get together sometime soon.
Then I saw Crim, scowling from where he sat at a picnic table.
She was the sister, the one he talked about all the time. She was at school, finishing an advanced degree.
She was off-limits before I even saw her face.
I could’ve played dumb and pretended I didn’t know who she was. But Crim was one of the good ones. He didn’t treat me like I was a blunt instrument. He saw past the reputation everyone else clung to.
So I shut her down fast.
“That’s cute.” I didn’t even finish the thought. Just turned away, acting dismissive, like she was background noise I couldn’t be bothered with.
Dismay had flickered across her face, then the walls came up. She’d forced a laugh and said something I didn’t catch because my pulse was throbbing too loud in my ears.
Pivoting on her heel, she’d walked away.
I let her think I’d dismissed her because she wasn’t worth my time. The truth was worse.
She was more than worth it. I wasn’t.
After dragging myself out from beneath the spray and toweling dry, I dressed in workout clothing and did my mobility training and stretches with the staff.
Rode the bike for twenty minutes to work out any muscle stiffness.
Then I hit the gym, where I burned off whatever this was until it stopped clawing at my ribs.
She worked here now. I’d see her every day.
And I suspected she was going to keep looking through me like I was paint on the walls.
Regret was useless. It didn’t change the past or fix what you broke.
But this? This was worse than regret.
I’d killed whatever she might’ve seen in me that day.
Good. Better she thought I was a shallow player than get close enough to find out the truth—that the jokes were the only thing holding me together. That underneath the grin and the highlight reel saves, there wasn’t much else. Just the weapon my coaches had built, brick by brick, save by save.
She’d dodged a blade.
So why did my chest feel like I’d taken one?
The break room was located on the third floor. Big windows, bright lights, and round tables with oversized chairs. The chefs had been hard at work preparing food for the team.
I pushed through the door, still trying to shake off the weight in my chest.
Ellie sat at a table near the window.
With Veskar.
They weren’t touching or sitting particularly close. Just talking. A plate of food sat in front of her, and she was gesturing with her fork.
Smiling.
And Veskar was leaning back in his chair, his face split with that grin he used when he thought he was being charming.
The growl started low in my chest and erupted from my throat, bringing every conversation in the room to a halt.
Heads turned. Eyebrows lifted. And gazes tracked from me to Ellie.
Veskar’s grin widened. Ellie glanced up before directing her attention back to her plate.
I stalked toward them without a single coherent thought about what I’d do when I got there.