“We didn’t get any alone time after your game the other night, so figured I’d come over and make up for it.” He grins cheekily, and I think about how that look of his used to do something to me. It used to make me fold and have me tossing my clothes on the floor without missing a beat. But now, it just looks boyish and annoying.
“How did you get in here?” I ask, dropping my bag with a heavy thud by the dresser. I should unpack it and get a load of laundry going, but I’m too tired for that tonight.
Mason holds up a key and I frown. “I didn’t give you that.”
“It’s Bryant’s. He let me borrow it.”
Grace.
“You gave Bryant a key to our apartment?” I shout toward the open door, and a moment later, Grace appears, looking sheepish.
“I thought I mentioned that,” she says, twirling her bracelet around her wrist. “I got a copy made the other week.”
“You definitelydidn’ttell me that,” I say, then turn back to Mason. “And why didn’t you just text me instead of breaking and entering?”
He twirls the key around on his finger. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have this.”
I quickly cross the room and snatch it from him. He protests as I toss it to Grace. “Tell Bryant if he loans this out again, I’m taking it back.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace mutters, tucking the key into her pocket. “I’ll talk to him about it.” She excuses herself and closes my door with a soft click.
Sure, I’m a little irritated with her that she didn’t tell me she was giving her boyfriend a key to our place, but most of it is directed at Mason right now. I rest my hands on my hips and sigh heavily, wishing if I closed my eyes, this situation would suddenly disappear and I could drift off into an effortless sleep.
“Are you seriously pissed right now?” he says as he sits up. “If I would’ve texted you, I wouldn’t have got a response for like, two days.”
I throw my hands up. “Then maybe you should’ve taken that as a hint!”
He actually looks wounded, his round eyes softening. “What the hell, Lennon? We haven’t had sex in months. If we’re not doing that, then what are we doing?”
This conversation is one I’ve been putting off for far too long, so maybe it’s a good thing it’s being forced upon me now.
“I don’t know,” I say. “This was supposed to be mutually beneficial for us, but I don’t think it’s doing either of us any favors anymore.”
“Well no shit,” he scoffs. “But what happened? You’ve iced me out for no reason. What changed?”
Everything.
But nothing that I can use to explain to him why I can’t imagine his hands touching me right now, because I’d only be picturing someone else’s.
“Look, I’m just too busy right now. Between classes and work and practice, I barely have a moment for myself.”
“That didn’t stop you last year. You’ve always had those things going on.”
True. But he used to be someone I prioritized, someone that I was willing to sacrifice a few extra hours of sleep for. Now…he’s not. “I know,” I say. “But I’m doing extra workouts to try to win this year, and I mean, this is our last year of school. I have to start thinking about my future. And c’mon, we both know we aren’t into each other as anything more than friends.”
“You don’t have to do all those things. You put that work on yourself.”
“Are you serious?” I gape at him. “You know why I work so hard! Not all of us can ride off of our parents’ money.”
His eyes flare at that, but he doesn’t negate it. “It’s just hockey. It’s not like you need the extra practice, your team is fine.”
“Fine isn’t good enough for me. I want to win.”
He shakes his head. “It’s college hockey, Lennon. It’s not like you’re going pro.”
Frustration chokes me, and my fists ball at my sides. “You just don’t get it.” How could he when he’s never had a care in the world? Mason just wants to have fun, and anything that isn’t fun or requires effort, doesn’t matter to him.
He’s never understood my drive in hockey, and I don’t know why I’m surprised that it’s not clicking for him now. No one in my life really gets it. He plays hockey because he’s decent at it, and it keeps him in shape. But he’s never loved it like I do. Sure, Grace and the team want to win, but it’s not the end all be all tothem. They’re not spending hours in the gym outside of practice to hone their bodies into weapons on the ice.
