20. Dylan
DYLAN
“Eek, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Wren is practically vibrating with excitement beside me as we walk into the cafeteria in the sports center.
I, on the other hand, feel faintly nauseous.
Although I shouldn’t. After our win against the Waves on Saturday, I went out with the team to celebrate.
Partly because Ethan was giving me that look—you know, the captain one that says I’m always right and dares you to doubt him—and partly because I was terrified that if I went home there would be a repeat of last week, and I know if I let Jax touch me again…
let myself fall into him, I won’t be able to stop it.
So best to simply avoid, avoid, avoid.
I actually ended up having a good time. In a bid to evade my roommates and Griffin, and Kyle and his minions, I sat at a table with a bunch of juniors I’ve barely spoken a word to before.
Instead of offhand comments about my being on the team and not-so-subtle glares at my presence at their table, they easily drew me into their conversation about what teams they think will pick up Cam Fowler now that his tenure with the Anaheim Ducks is nearing its end .
It ended up being a surprisingly good evening, but that still doesn’t mean I’m not nervous as Wren links her arm through mine and practically drags me into the cafeteria.
I already regret telling her what Ethan said about how I should give the team a chance.
She immediately packed up her belongings in the library and ushered me out of my quiet sanctuary.
“ I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” I grumble.
“Yes, yes.” Wren waves away my foul attitude like it’s nothing more than a bad smell in the air. “I know you’d far rather hide away in your cave of solitude.”
“I don’t hide,” I protest.
Wren simply gives me a look.
Exhaling through my nose, I say nothing as the cafeteria doors close behind us.
The place is packed with athletes—hockey players, football players, a few members of the swim team.
The hockey guys have taken over a long table near the center of the room, their loud and obnoxious behavior drawing many eyes from around the room, including mine.
I scour the table as we step in line to grab our food, spotting Finn first. I groan at the sight of the blonde puck bunny practically in his lap. My only saving grace is that Finn doesn’t seem to be paying her any attention, too absorbed in his conversation with the player on his other side.
Ripping my gaze away before the sight of her clinging to him like a leech can put me off my lunch, I decide to forgo the plates of hot food and grab a chicken salad wrap instead, before leading the way over to the hockey players’ table.
If I’m doing this, I might as well do it.
Noting Griffin’s and Jax’s positions around the table, I opt for the empty seat at the end of the row beside Ethan.
Leo, one of the second-liners I was chatting with on Saturday, is sitting opposite him, and he lifts his chin in greeting as I sit down. Noticing Wren behind me, he gives her a friendly smile before sliding down a seat and immediately pulling her into conversation.
“Good to see you’ve come out of hiding,” Ethan murmurs low enough for only me to hear.
“I was not hiding ,” I hiss between gritted teeth. “The testosterone is too much to deal with twenty-four seven. A girl needs a break sometimes, you know?”
His lips quirk up in a teasing smirk. “Can’t say I do. Being part of the testosterone problem and all,” he retorts dryly.
I blink, caught off guard. It’s not the response I expected from him, not from Captain Control. “Wow.” I gasp, feigning shock. “Was that…a joke?”
He rolls his eyes, but I catch the glint of humor in his pale blue depths.
“Who knew you were capable of one?”
His smirk returns, sharper this time, with a hint of something else beneath it. Leaning in, his voice is pitched lower than before as he says, “I’m capable of a lot of things that you don’t know about.”
A flicker of heat curls low in my stomach. My pulse stutters.
Was that…flirting? From Ethan ?
I study him, trying to read the line of his mouth, the look in his eyes—but, as always, he gives nothing away.
“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises, Captain.”
Flashing me a grin, he stuffs the end of his sandwich into his mouth, and I turn my focus to unwrapping mine.
I’m chewing on my first bite when I sense someone watching me.
Glancing up, my gaze collides with Griffin’s from farther down the table.
He’s talking to the guy next to him, but his attention is locked on me.
When I catch him staring, he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing like he’s sizing me up—and liking what he sees.
Heat flickers low in my stomach, sharp and unwelcome. My breath catches before I can stop it, and for a second, I forget to look away.
I rip my gaze from his, frowning. What the hell is that? I seriously have no idea what is up with that guy or why he keeps looking at me like that, like he’s daring me to look back. Or why it always feels like my body’s two seconds behind my brain every time he does.
Turning to say something to the player seated opposite him, Finn stops mid-sentence, his jaw tightening when he notes mine and Wren’s presence at the table.
And then, because he’s the definition of an emotionally stunted caveman, he turns his full attention to the blonde still draped over him.
She practically has hearts in her eyes as she soaks up every second of his focus like it’s a spotlight, her hand sliding up the front of his chest to wrap around the back of his neck as he lowers his head.
His eyes flash to mine at the last second, and I sneer, flipping him the middle finger. What an asshole . Finn’s smirk is smug before he buries his face in the side of her neck.
I gag—loudly—the sound one hundred percent fake. Yup, not even a little bit real as I mentally shove the memory of his lips on mine out of my mind. Forever.
Unfortunately, though, the noise garners the blonde’s attention. She turns, flipping her long, perfectly straight hair over her shoulder as her eyes narrow on me. It takes a second, but then recognition clicks.
“Oh,” she drawls, lips curving in a cruel mockery of a smile. “It’s the bench bunny.”
Giving her a deadpan stare, I flick my gaze purposefully to Finn before fixing her with a look of faux sympathy. “Could you be any more obvious?”
Her lips curl. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I gesture between her and Finn. “You’re laying it on so thick it’s actually painful to watch. ”
Her eyes narrow, her hand sliding up Finn’s arm. “Jealous much?”
I bark out a laugh. “Of what, exactly?”
Her nails tighten on Finn’s bicep, and I swear, for just a second, he winces. “Oh, I don’t know,” she says airily. “The fact that some of us don’t have to degrade ourselves for attention?”
I freeze. The entire table goes silent, and I can feel them all listening in.
She smirks, taking my silence as an opening.
“I mean, I can’t imagine how humiliating it must be.
No talent, no real skill—just a girl desperate for a spot on a team full of guys who don’t even want her there.
” She taps her finger deliberately against her chin.
“You have to wonder what she did to get it.”
There it is. The implication. The nasty, ugly rumor Kyle tried to start at the roster party.
Heat rushes through me, fury burning up my spine. I feel Ethan go rigid beside me, his hand coming up like he’s about to cut in, but I’m already moving, clapping my hand over his as I lean forward, voice deadly soft.
“You think I slept my way onto this team? Into my position?”
She shrugs, fiddling with the end of her hair. “Well, it’s not like you earned it.”
A slow, vicious smile spreads across my lips. “And yet here you are, plastered against Finn like a human leech, trying to suck your way into relevance. Tell me, what’s it like being the living embodiment of a cliché?”
Her face reddens. “Bitch.”
I tilt my head. “No, see, if I were really a bitch, I’d point out the fact that Finn isn’t the least bit interested in you.
You fill a void for him. You’re a distraction.
A toy.” Her lips part in a protest. “And you know how I know that? Because he wasn’t paying you a lick of attention until I sat down.
Because, despite all your desperate little touches, he hasn’t reacted once.
” I throw my hands wide. “And here you are, talking to me instead of sitting in his lap like you so badly want to be.”
Smacking her hands against the table, she rises, glaring at me a final time before storming off.
I wave my fingers at her retreating back. “We always have the best conversations.”
Hand clamped over her mouth, Wren giggles. “That was badass.”
I flash her a triumphant grin, before my face scrunches. “I should really learn her name.” I turn expectant eyes on Finn, who gapes at me.
“Uhh, Linda? Or Laura? Lisa?” I’m pretty sure he was asking himself that last one. Shaking my head, I turn away from him, only to be met with Ethan’s unimpressed stare.
“Really?” he says dryly.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“You antagonized her on purpose.”
“She started it.”
“You escalated it.” I roll my eyes, finally digging back into my wrap, but Ethan isn’t done. “This isn’t middle school, Dylan.”
“No, because in middle school, I would’ve shoved her into a locker.”
Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Always such a thorn in my side.”
“Relax, Captain,” I soothe, rolling my eyes. “I’m not actually going to fight your puck bunny.”
“She’s not my puck bunny!”
“She’s someone’s,” I drawl, unable to help the way my gaze flicks back to Finn. “Maybe you should have a word with your boy over there. Make sure he doesn’t choke on all that desperation. ”
“Jesus Christ.” Ethan exhales through his nose. “Pretty sure you did a decent job of making sure she doesn’t come around for a while.”
I flash him a wide grin. “Why, thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Huh.” Snatching a chip from his tray, I chew on the end of it. “Sounded like one to me.”
He shakes his head, but there’s something almost amused in his expression. “You’re exhausting.”
“I know. It’s fun, isn’t it?”
“Not the word I would use?—”
Whatever Ethan was going to say is cut off by the chime of notifications.
Not just a few— everyone’s. The entire cafeteria erupts into murmurs and the rustle of movement as people start pulling out their phones.
Then the snapping silence—just for a second—before the first choked-off laugh breaks it.
Then another.
And another.
Until the entire cafeteria is roaring.
Across from me, Wren nearly spits out her drink, eyes blown wide. The guys at the table are losing their shit, shoulders shaking as they shove their phones at each other, jaws hanging open.
“What the fuck?” someone breathes.
A guy at the next table is crying, gripping his stomach as he wheezes out, “No way—holy shit?—”
Eyes wide and throat dry, I pull my phone from my back pocket. I don’t expect to see anything, no one on this campus other than Ethan has my number. And yet, as soon as I look at the screen, a single alert catches my eye.
Hands shaking, my finger hovers over the notification, unsure if I really want to know what it is.
Before I can make a decision, Kyle’s roar shatters through the chaos.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
My head whips up, every eye in the cafeteria zeroing in on him. Guys across the room point and laugh. I frown, taking in Kyle’s wild, panicked expression.
“Oh my God, is that Kyle?” I hear Wren murmur quietly as she squints at her phone. “Is that…Kyle?”
Kyle? Whatever it is, is about…Kyle?
It takes a long moment for that to sink in. For me to realize it’s not about me. Not this time.
A tray slamming against the table startles me. I jump, Kyle’s voice like a fire alarm blasting through the noise in the cafeteria. “Who the fuck is doing this to me?”
My gaze inadvertently falls from Kyle to Griffin, who is leaning back in his chair, arms folded, completely unbothered by the chaos unfolding all around him. His expression gives nothing away—no smirk, no arrogance, no admission of guilt.
But I see it.
I feel it.
The smugness radiating from him.
“TELL ME!” Kyle bellows, screaming now. “WHO THE FUCK IS DOING THIS?!’
He lunges, his chair screeching back, but before he can do anything stupid, Ethan’s voice cracks like a whip. “Sit the fuck down!”
Kyle whirls, vibrating with rage, but Ethan doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. He just stares, unyielding. “Now.”
Kyle’s chest heaves. His fists clench. His face is bright red—whether from anger or humiliation, I don’t know.
Then slowly, jaw grinding, he draws in a deep breath. His eyes breathe fire, and murder radiates from his every pore, before he turns on his heel and storms toward the exit .
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
And when I glance back at Griffin, he’s already looking at me.
Watching. Waiting.
For what, I don’t know.
When Ethan catches our silent exchange, his brow furrows, and he leans in as I break eye contact. His voice is low as he all but demands, “What was that about?”
I take a sip of my drink, keeping my expression blank.
“No idea.”
Liar. Liar. Liar.