The gym in the garage smells like sweat and dust. Comforting,, in a way. I flick on the lights and start wrapping my hands. The routine’s muscle memory—wrap, stretch, flex, breathe.
A punching bag waits in the corner, swaying slightly from the last time I took my temper out on it.
I hit it again. And again.
Every impact echoes up my arms, dull and satisfying. It’s easier than thinking.
We’ve been a pack since we were eighteen—me and Milton. Two halves of the same grind. No bullshit, no fake promises. Just loyalty. And for years, we’ve tried to bring Lincoln in. He’s blood. It made sense. But he always said no—we’re going places, he’s just a blue-collar worker,he’s fine on his own.
Except now he’s the one who actuallyfeelslike he’s in a pack—with Milton, of all people. The two of them, with their shared crush and easy silence. I’m on the outside looking in, wondering when that flipped.
The bag swings wide, and I catch it, breathing hard. My knuckles sting; my chest feels too tight.
“Stupid,” I mutter, forehead resting against the vinyl. “You don’t even want her.”
And maybe I don’t. Maybe Bayleigh Lennox isn’t the point.
Maybe it’s that everyone keeps moving forward while I’m still stuck on a shitty team—fighting memories, clinging to rivalries that shouldn’t matter anymore.
I think of Lincoln, signing clumsy words to a woman who makes him want to be better. And I think of Milton, smiling at his phone like he’s found something worth giving a damn about.
They’re happy. Or getting close to it.
And me?
I just keep swinging.
By the time I stop, my shirt’s soaked through and my arms feel like lead. I drop onto the floor, breathing ragged. The room’s quiet now—too quiet.
I stare at the taped-up bag across from me, the faint scuff marks on the floor, the walls closing in around the sound of my heartbeat.
Maybe Lincoln’s right. Maybe Gina’s been dead weight on my shoulders this whole damn time. But it’s not just that she cheated on me that has me in knots. It’s that Ilovedher. I really did. I thought she was it—the one. I was ready to propose, ready to ask Milton to court her properly, to see if she could beours.
He warned me. Said she seemed like a gold digger. Said she smiled too much when the cameras were around. I told him he was wrong. And now look at me. Miserable. Pissed off at the world because I gave my heart to a conniving cunt and almost broke my best friend’s right along with it.
I lean my head back against the floor, throat tight, pulse still hammering.
Maybe letting go isn’t about forgiving her. Maybe it’s about forgiving myself for being so damn blind.
But admitting that? Letting go? That’s a fight I’m not sure I’m ready to win.
20
Bayleigh
I’m so fucking late.
Benton messaged me this morning. He forgot to turn in the folder of donation receipts and event paperwork from the Children's Charity Day with the league’s PR office. He thought it was in the stuff he took back to the coach’s office, but it wasn’t.
If he had any other option, he wouldn’t be asking me., But he doesn’t. And I’m the only one home. As much as Benton hates it, he has to send me right into Scorpion territory. Still, it does make sense for me to do it since I was involved in the event.
I should’ve been there fifteen minutes ago, but I couldn’t find my keys, and then I hit every damn red light from my house to here. And of course I had to make I don’t know how many loops in the parking garage before I found someone pulling out.
Why the hell is it so crowded? Is there something going on? An event maybe?
Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t screw with me making it out of here in a pinch. God knows I don’t want to run into any of the Scorpions. While Grady seemed okay the day of the event, I’mnot sure how any of the others on the team might feel about the Krakens, and more specifically, my brother.
Get in, drop off paperwork, done. Quick and easy. It’s what I keep repeating to myself as I turn off the car, pick up the envelope from the passenger seat and get out. Pulling my hood over my head, I head out of the garage, toward the building. I wrap my coat tighter around me; the chill from the wind cuts right through me. When is summer coming? Hell, I’ll take spring at this point.
