“It never is with you,” I say, quieter this time. “But you could’ve said something. Anything.”
He exhales shakily, rubbing at his face like he’s barely holding it together. “My dad—” He stops himself, shakes hishead. “He doesn’t get it, okay? He said some shit, and it messed with me. I just needed to breathe.”
I snort. “Yeah. Fucking breathe. Right. Without me.”
I practically tear off my pads. I don’t care who’s witnessing this spectacular crash and burn. The rest of the team has gone dead silent as I take a torch to everything.
His eyes finally meet mine, and for a second, the silence between us feels like it might break—like he’s about to say what I’ve been dying to hear. But then his expression shifts, retreating behind that same tired calm.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I just… can’t do this right now.”
It lands like a blade between my ribs.
I take a step back, breath catching in my throat. “Right. Yeah. Message received.”
“Logan—”
But I’m already moving, shaking my head, trying to laugh it off even though it comes out hollow. “No, it’s fine. Really. You’ve made yourself clear.”
I strip off the rest of my gear in record time, each piece hitting the floor harder than the last. I pull on my jeans with shaking hands, yank my hoodie over my head, and jam my feet into my sneakers without bothering to lace them.
I skip the shower. I can’t stand to be in this room another second. The air’s too thick—full of everything we were and everything I just broke.
The guys keep their heads down. No one says a word. Even Blue, who always has something to say, stays quiet.
When I grab my duffel and sling it over my shoulder, I can feel every set of eyes on me. Todd’s included.
I don’t look back. If I do, I’ll cave.
The door bangs shut behind me, the sound echoingdown the corridor. My breath comes out harsh and ragged as I put more distance between us.
Out here, it’s quieter—but it doesn’t feel better.
It feels empty.
Like I just walked away from something I’ll never get back.
I make it halfway down the hallway before I hear footsteps behind me. Heavier than Todd’s.
“Logan.”
Daniel’s voice.
I don’t slow down. “Not in the mood, man.”
“Too bad,” he says, catching up easily. “Because you just turned the locker room into a funeral, and I’m not letting you walk off like that.”
I stop, jaw tight, but I don’t turn around. “You saw what happened.”
“Yeah,” he says, coming to stand beside me. “I saw two guys who are both bleeding and pretending they’re not.”
I drag a hand over my face. “You don’t get it.”
Daniel’s voice softens. “Maybe more than you think.”
That gets me to look at him. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes steady in that calm way that makes you want to trust him.
“My dad didn’t get it either,” he says quietly. “Told me once that loving a man was justa confused phase.”
