Of course he does. Goalies watch everything.
“Too loud,” I say. “Too many people. Too many… variables.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while. The truck idles at a stop sign, turn signal ticking like a slow clock.
“You came tonight,” he says finally. “To Genny’s.”
My cheeks heat. “Girls’ night is different.”
“How?”
“It’s… softer,” I say, hating how exposed the word feels. “Slamming doors aside.”
His hands tighten on the wheel. The tape on his knuckles creaks.
We pass the lit expanse of the arena. The big banner with his face on it glares down at us—helmet off, eyes sharp, jaw locked.
My father’s name sits underCOACHin neat, bold type.
“You really dented a locker for me,” I say, the words coming out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t swerve. Doesn’t slam on the brakes. His shoulders go very, very still.
“Maya talks too much,” he mutters.
“That’s not a denial,” I say quietly.
We’re the only car on the road. The campus glows faint and distant ahead of us.
He breathes once. Twice. The tape on his hand flexes against the gear shift.
“He was talking about you,” Declan says, voice low and controlled, like he’s walking a blade. “Loud. In the middle of my locker room.” A pause. “He shouldn’t have been.”
“What did he say?” My throat is tight.
“Doesn’t matter.” His jaw locks. “I handled it.”
“By putting your hand on his throat.”
“By making sure he remembers there are lines,” he corrects, heat finally bleeding into his tone. “He can run his mouth about me. About my game. Not about you.”
The cab suddenly feels smaller. The air thicker.
“That’s not your job,” I whisper.
He glances at me, eyes stark and green in the passing light. “Maybe it is,” he says. “Maybe it’s the only part I’m good at.”
“Being violent?”
“Being a wall.”
The answer lodges under my ribs, sharp and unwanted.
We pull into the lot behind my dorm. It’s quieter than Genny’s—fewer cars, more dark patches. The building looms, a block of brick and cheap windows. My window is dark. I didn’t leave a light on.
Declan eases the truck into an empty space near the door, throws it into park, and kills the engine. The sudden silence roars.
For a second, neither of us moves.
