“Youhadit. Until he skated by and your soul left your body.”
I grunt, skating back to my side while Daniel glides toward his post, muttering, “You’re worse than Eli.”
“I’m not—” I start, but he lifts a hand before I can finish.
“Don’t. I’ve seen that look before. You stare at Shaw like he hung the fucking moon.”
I roll my shoulders, trying not to let that land. “We’re teammates.”
“Uh-huh.” Daniel’s tone is dry. “And I’m the starting center.”
“You play right wing.”
“My point exactly.”
I exhale slowly, jaw tight. “It’s not like that.”
He cuts me a look. “Logan, I was there when Max and Eli tried to pretend they were nothing, too. This is giving the same vibe—except worse, because at least Max and Eli had a chance at something, you clearly don’t, not with him.”
My pulse kicks up, but I keep my face still. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Daniel lifts a brow. “Don’t I? You’ve been half-hard and fully tense since warm-ups. You checked your phone three times during water breaks. And Shaw?” He jerks his chin toward where Todd’s skating drills like he’s got something to prove. “He hasn’t looked at you once.”
That one lands harder than I want to admit.
Because he’s right. Todd’s out here pretending I’m invisible.
Daniel drops his voice as we skate toward the boards. “And before you let your head write some happily-ever-after epilogue, remember—he’s not out. He’s not even close. Guyslike that?” He shrugs. “They don’t pick messy. They pick safe. They pick quiet.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t gay.”
Daniel snorts. “Is that what I said?”
“Yeah, you said he doesn’t swing that way.”
“I also recall saying he was basically a monk.”
“And you think I’m messy,” I mutter.
“Nope.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a walking Pride float with a mouth and a hockey stick.”
“I know. And I know that he’s not into me like that.” Except when he falls to his fucking knees to finish me off. And that thought isn’t helping the chub in my pants.
“Do you?” Daniel asks, gaze a little softer now. “Because you’re looking at him like he already belongs to you.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just turns and slides back into his position as the next drill whistle blows.
But the words stick like ice in my chest. Because maybe he’s right. Maybe Iamlooking at Todd like he’s already mine.
Even if I know he’ll never let himself be.
The thought puts me in a bad mood, and I take it out on everyone during the scrimmage.
I’m faster. Rougher than usual.
When Peters cuts across my zone too slowly, I hip check him hard enough to send him sprawling. He laughs as he lands on his ass, and I don’t stop to help him up.
When Eli swats the puck away from the net with a cocky smirk, I chase it down like I’ve got something to prove and fire it so hard toward the cage that it pings off the post like a gunshot.
