It’s brutal hearing it that way. It’s not a denial or admission, just the truth sitting between us, heavy and unfixable. Before I can find words that make sense, Cooper’s voice carries down the tunnel.
“Hendrix!”
Alycia straightens instantly, the shift in her posture so practiced it hurts to watch. I take a half step back, the distance between us suddenly feeling like punishment.
“Guess that’s my cue.”
“Guess so,” she says, not looking at me.
“Saturday, then?” I grab my gloves, forcing a smile I don’t feel.
“Nine-thirty. Try not to be late.” She stares down at the ice. Her tone is light and professional, but the tremor hiding in it ruins me.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I murmur.
She finally looks up, and for a second, I see the real her again that’s been living rent-free in my head ever since we met in the elevator, but then it’s gone. Replaced by the polished version of her that the world is allowed to see.
I nod once, more to myself than her, and skate off the ice toward my brother’s voice. Each stride feels like every inch of space I put between us is another line I’m not supposed to cross.
And the worst part is, I already know I’ll cross it anyway.
As I head toward the tunnel, I drag a hand through my hair, trying to shake her loose. But she’s still there, right under my skin, where she always ends up.
I don’t hear him at first, just the echo of my own footsteps and the hum in my chest that sounds too much like her name.
“Want to tell me what that was?” Cooper’s voice slices through the quiet, carrying more warning than question.
I stop short, spine locking before I turn. He’s standing just past the threshold, arms folded, still in that coach posture that makes everyone else straighten up on instinct. His expression isn’t angry, but controlled, which is so much worse.
“Whatwhatwas?” I ask, even though I know damn well what he means.
“The part where you almost made out with PR intern on the ice,” he says, leaning against the wall like he’s trying not to throttle me.
“Wasn’t on the ice.”
“Not the point. I thought we covered this.”
“Covered it, yeah. Didn’t say I agreed with it.”
He folds his arms, every inch of him screaming Coach, but the look in his eyes is a lot like my big brother, who’d do anything to protect me from the world. “You want to protect her? Don’t give them a story to chase.”
The words hit harder than I expected. “I didn’t?—”
“You didn’t stop it either.” His tone softens just enough to cut deeper. “You’re better than that, Kyle.”
“You think I wanted that to happen? He came for her.” I drag a hand down my face, trying to hold the line between guilt and defensiveness.
“And you took the bait.”
“Wouldn’t you have done the same if someone talked about Ramona like that?”
“You’re not me. And she’s not Ramona.”
I look away, the air between us heavy with everything I can’t argue. He’s right, as usual. Cooper exhales, the sound rougher than his words.
“You need to figure out whatever this is between you two. Either get a handle on it or get it out of the spotlight before it blows up bigger than you can control.”
“Right. Control. Got it.”
