He shoots me a glare that is sharp and defensive. “Connelly said he’d handle it.”
And I laugh, because there’s no universe where that doesn’t sound like a fucking joke. The same guy who’s sleeping with his roommate’s girlfriend, acting like that’s sustainable, and now picking fights in the middle of practice? Yeah, I’m sure he’s got it handled.
“Right. Sure. I totally believe he will do the right fucking thing here,’” I mutter as I start restocking the medical cabinet, needing something to do with my hands before I start throwing things.
“He said he would,” Hughie repeats, his tone slightly defensive.
I don’t answer. I don’t have the energy to argue with someone who’s clearly spiraling but won’t admit it.
Instead, I move around the training room in silence, reorganizing supplies that don’t actually need organizing because it’s better than looking at him and feeling this mixture of anger and empathy twist in my gut.
The truth is, this whole thing is fucking with me too. Griffin comes in here every day, cracking jokes, talking about school, being his golden retriever self which is charming and easy to like. He’s one of those people who makes you want to match their energy because it’s so damn earnest. And the whole time, I’m sitting on this secret like a landmine, pretending everything is fine while knowing he’s being played like a goddamn fool.
I open my mouth to keep going because seriously, Hughie’s excuse is flimsier than a dollar store bandage and I’m not done being mad about it. But the door opens behind me, and I immediately shut my mouth because of course it’s Griffin fucking Thatcher.
He walks in and doesn’t even glance my way. He’s too honed in on Griffin who is still slumped on a training table holding ice to his face.
“Hey,” Griffin says, voice a little rough, eyes scanning Hughie’s face. “You alright, man?”
Hughie stiffens like he didn’t expect anyone to care, which is ridiculous because it’s Griffin. I don’t know why they stopped hanging out forever ago but I do know that Griffin is a good guy and would care that his teammate is hurt.
“I already told you in the sauna. I’m fine,” Hugh says automatically.
I raise a brow but keep stalking. The idea of Griffin, sweaty and naked, in a sauna is enough to have my gut warming which is something I absolutely do not need.
“Yeah? You sure?” Griffin asks again.
“Yeah,” Hughie repeats, but this time it’s softer, and I know him well enough to hear the shift in tone. It’s the kind ofyeahthat saysno but please don’t ask again.
Then Griffin, in this casual but also clearly nervous kind of way, rubs the back of his neck and says, “You wanna grab a bite or something? I was thinking about hitting that diner by the rink. Just figured we haven’t in a while.”
And I swear to god, Hughiestaresat him like he just offered him a marriage proposal instead of a turkey club. There’s a full beat of silence where neither of them says anything and I stand there like a third wheel in the world’s slowest emotional standoff.
But then Hughie recovers, clears his throat, and goes, “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
Which, great. Amazing. Love that for them.
Except no, Idon’t, because Hughie is still sitting on this ticking time bomb of betrayal and I’m standing here trying to telepathically communicateTELL HIMwith my eyeballs.
Hughie doesn’t even look at me. He just grabs his hoodie, says, “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, okay,” I mumble as disappointed crushes me.
And then Griffin turns to me with this lazy, crooked smile that’s so goddamn attractive it makes my insides feel like soda fizz.
“Later, Jacob,” he says with this adorable awkward wave.
I manage a nod that probably looks more like a malfunction than a response, because all I can think about is how fucking pretty his eyes are when he smiles, and how much I hate that I just noticed thatagain.
And then he’s gone, and I’m left alone in the training room, staring at the door.
So yeah. This crush? Definitely not going away. Fuck.
I’m layingon my bed, staring at the ceiling like I can come up with a solution to a problem that isn’t really mine. I don’t even know why I care other than knowing the truth makes me feel guilty. Oh and it’s clearly causing issues for Hugh.
All I want to do is come up with a way to fix it that won’t cause the entire team to implode and of course, that’s the perfect moment for my phone to ring.
I glance at the screen and immediately feel that sinking, stomach-hollowing dread.
