Chapter 28
Tip Twenty-eight; We've all heard the saying, "if you love something let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be yours." But sometimes it is wise to remember to fight and work for something if you want it and not give up entirely.
Asher
The bar is packed.
The fluorescent light above buzzing and too bright.
Music hits heavy in my ribs. Bass shaking through the floorboards like it's trying to knock something loose inside me.
Leon's talking about drills. About how Coach nearly benched Mason. Justin's arguing with someone about whose round it is.
Someone says my name.
I nod.
No idea what I just agreed to, no idea what anyone talking about.
My mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Ivy.
I can still see her.
Arms folded tight across her chest like she was holding herself together or blocking me out.
I haven't decided which one I prefer to believe right now.
"I think we should stop."
Her voice was steady when she said it.
That's the part that keeps replaying.
Steady.
Like she'd already braced herself for me to agree.
Like she expected me to.
She didn't look unsure.
She looked decided. Almost defeated and I can't understand why.
Temporary.
Space.
If that's what you want. Why the fuck did I say that?
I said it like it didn't cost me anything.
I take a shot I don't need.
It burns down my throat.
Doesn't touch the tightness in my chest.
Leon bumps my shoulder. "You're quiet."
"Just tired." The lie tastes worse than the tequila still burning a trail down my throat.
He studies me. He knows something's off. Doesn't know what. If he knew-
Justin doesn't look at me at all, or at least he doesn't let me notice.
That's how I know he's clocking every shift in my posture. Justin sees far more than people give him credit for. He may be the worst player of us all - and I don't mean on the ice, but no one can say the man isn't smart.
Then I hear it.
That laugh.
Lazy. Sharp at the edges. Smug. Dragged out like he thinks the world's a joke.
Dain fucking Chambers.
He's leaning back against the bar like he owns the place. Rolling his shoulders. Watching the room like he's bored with it. Then he sees me.
He doesn't say anything right away.
He waits, cocking his head at me as a smirk paints his face.
Then-
"Didn't think she'd go for you after what I did first."
It's quiet.
But I hear it, just like he wanted me to.
Leon scoffs. "What are you rambling about, Chambers?"
Dain swirls the ice in his glass, doesn't look at Leon. He's only looking at me. His eyes flit over my no doubt harsh expression, the tense shoulders. The way my fingers are strangling the neck of beer bottle.
I want to shut him up.
"Relax," he says. "I'm just surprised. Guess she's not picky."
My fingers tighten further before I force myself to release the bottle, letting it drop to the bar counter.
Justin shifts beside me, his eyes moving from me to Dain to Leon.
"Leave it," he mutters under his breath. "He's just trying to get a ride-"
Dain tilts his head.
"Sloppy seconds aren't usually your thing, Hudson."
The word sloppy lands wrong.
Not because of what it implies.
Because of how he says it.
Like she's something dragged across concrete.
Like she's a punchline.
My jaw aches with how hard I'm clenching my teeth, trying to calm myself down and not make a scene. It's what he wants.
"Touchy subject?"
Temporary.
We need space.
If that's what you want.
She ended it.
And I just said okay.
That's on me.
Dain leans forward, tilts his head. His eyes light up with some crumb on knowledge he's somehow gained and he starts smiling-
"Did she dump you already?"
That's it.
There's no warning.
No buildup.
My fist connects with his jaw before the thought finishes forming, the solid sound of the crack reverberating through the room. All other noise ceases.
It feels like a minute later, but it can only be seconds when Dain stumbles back into the bar. Bottles rattle, fall. One shatters as it hits the ground. Someone yells.
Leon grabs my arm.
Justin's hand clamps onto my shoulder.
I don't swing again.
I'm not blind.
I just needed one. One chance to shut the smug bastard up.
Dain straightens slowly, lifting a hand to his mouth. Blood slides from the corner of his mouth.
He laughs.
Actually laughs.
"You that defensive?" he asks, wiping at the blood.
I don't blink.
"Guess she got bored quick," he adds.
He watches my face.
I say nothing but my jaw tightens.
But that's enough.
"Ah," he says softly. "So, she did."
Leon stiffens. "Who did what?"
I shrug his hand off.
"Stay away from her."
My voice is quiet. Flat.
It's not loud, not threatening. Final.
Dain snorts. "Seems it's not your problem anymore."
That one lands harder than the rest.
Because he's right.
She's not mine.
Not my place.
Not my girl.
That doesn't stop something hot and ugly from clawing up my chest.
Justin steps between us.
"You're done, Chambers."
Dain lifts his hands like this is a joke.
"I already had my turn," he says.
Leon steps forward.
I block him without looking.
I won't let Dain sinks his teeth into Leon. If Leon knew everything I did - Dain wouldn't be talking out of this bar without help.
He won't let anyone disrespect his sister.
And if he knew, I-
I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought.
"Take a walk," Justin says again.
Dain grins through blood.
"You care too much," he mutters. "That's your problem."
Then he disappears into the crowd.
The music swallows him whole.
Leon lets go of me slowly.
"What the hell was that?"
"He's a dick."
"That's not new." He gives me an odd look, shaking his head slowly. "What's happening? Are you getting back with Harlow? I've been seeing her around Dain recently, but I didn't think she was worth starting a fight over."
I shake my head, mouth tightening in a grimace. Both at the pain in my hand and the thought of being anywhere near Harlow.
"No, I'm not getting back with her. It was a mistake the first time."
Leon claps my shoulder. "Good, she's a bitch and she treats your sister like crap." His eyes crinkle. "And probably Ivy be association."
I look to him, brow furrowed. "How-"
Leon shrugs. "I notice shit. Harlow is not a nice girl."
I flex my hand.
Pain shoots through my knuckles like fire. The ache sharp, immediate. Grounding.
Justin watches me carefully.
"You good?" he asks low.
"Yeah."
He leans closer.
"Breathe."
I hadn't noticed I wasn't.
Leon looks between us. "Who is she?"
Justin doesn't answer.
I don't either.
"Fine, keep your secrets." Leon shakes his head. "You're going to get suspended if Coach hears about that."
"Probably."
I pick my drink back up.
My hand is steady now.
Music fills the space again, laughter. Like nothing happened.
Justin catches my eye across the table.
'You need to cool it.' He mouths, eyes flicking between Leon and I. Leon doesn't catch the words.
I nod once. Take a sip from my bottle and flick my chin to the side.
"Bathroom."
No one stops me.
The hallway to the bathrooms is narrow.
Sticky under my shoes.
Smells like bleach trying and failing to mask stale beer.
The fluorescent light in the bathroom flickers once before settling into a low hum.
I turn the tap on without looking at myself in the mirror. Replaying everything that happened earlier today. It's like my mind won't let me forget it, won't let me move on.
Cold water hits my knuckles and my own blood flows doesn't the drain,
The sting bites where the skin split.
I don't flinch but I do look up.
My jaw's tight. Blue eyes hard. No one looking back at me but myself.
Temporary.
Space.
If that's what you want.
I let her walk.
Because she decided.
Because I won't cage someone who obviously doesn't want to be there.
Because chasing someone who already decided feels worse than letting them go.
I flex my hand again, letting the pain centre me.
The bruise is already blooming beneath the skin. Dark. Ugly.
It'll swell by morning.
Maybe she'll see it. Ask me about it.
That thought lands harder than my fist against Dain's jaw.
Not because I want her to know I hit him.
But because she probably won't ask. .
Because she'll assume it was nothing. A hockey injury. She won't know I fought him, for her.
That I've been wanting to smash his head in since I found out how he treated her. The she chose him-
I shut the tap off.
Water drips from my knuckles into the sink.
I grab paper towel, press it against the split skin. It stains faint pink before I toss it in the bin.
I look at myself again.
I could've said something.
Anything.
Stay.
Don't.
This isn't what I want.
I didn't.
Pride is a stupid fucking thing.
I roll my shoulders once, twice.
Loosen my neck.
By the time I push the door open, I look steady.
The noise of the bar hits me again - bass, laughter, glass clinking.
I step back into it like nothing happened.
Like I didn't swing.
Like I didn't almost say stay.
Like I didn't lose her.