“No? Then what is it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fishing for information you have no right to have.”
His expression hardens. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Help me? You want to help me? Then stay the fuck away from me. Stop looking at me like you care. Stop pretending that night meant something to you when we both know it didn’t.”
“You don’t know what that night meant to me.”
I can’t stop my eyes from drinking in his body…the ink across his chest, the bronze skin still damp from the shower. When I raise my eyes to his, I see something raw in his expression. Something that looks like pain. It flickers away as quickly as it appeared, but I definitely saw it. Felt it, too.
Then I remember that he’s a liar. That he knew who I was, used me, and disappeared without a word.
“You’re right,” I say, hoisting my bag over my shoulder. “I don’t know. And I don’t want to know.”
I head for the door, but his voice stops me.
“Tate.”
I don’t turn around. “What?”
“For what it’s worth... that night was real for me, too.”
The honesty in his voice almost makes me turn around and demand the truth about why he left. It almost makes me forget that trusting him once already broke me.
Almost.
“Doesn’t matter now,” I say, and walk out without looking back.
But as the door closes behind me, I can’t shake the feeling that I just walked away from something I might never get back.
I board the bus with the rest of the team, pasting a fake ass smile on my face for Liam Parker. He glows like a goddamn candle. And nobody is gonna ever say I’m not a supportive teammate. The guys make idle conversation, talking about dinner, girls they met at the bar, how one of them wanted Colby to sign her tits.
It’s a helpful distraction. And unfortunately, a temporary one.
The practice skate is a nightmare.
I go through the motions, but my head’s not in it. I can’t focus on anything except the memory of last night, the way Zane looked at me when I almost spilled my guts about what he does to me.
Parker, meanwhile, looks like a kid on Christmas morning. He’s dialed in, sharp, making saves in practice that would make any coach proud. The team’s rallying around him, giving him easier shots to build his confidence.
“Looking good, Parker,” Carter calls out after a clean glove save.
“Thanks, Cap.” Parker’s grin could power the fucking arena. I grit my teeth to prevent the grimace from commanding my expression.
I grab a bottle of water, trying to ignore the way my stomach twists as I watch my replacement succeed where I’ve been failing.
“You see the highlights from last night’s Sharks game?” Masterson walks over and grabs a bottle of water from the cooler. “Brutal. Three goals in the first period.”
“Yeah, it was brutal.” I welcome the normal hockey talk. “Their defense looked lost out there.”
“Makes you appreciate what we’ve got here.” He glances toward where Carter’s directing a drill. “Speaking of which, you think Logan’s gonna propose to Cam soon?”
The casual gossip feels normal. Safe. “Why? Have you heard something?”
“I don’t know. He’s been talking about marriage a lot lately. I figured you’d have heard something through the grapevine since your brother’s dating Logan’s sister.” Masterson grins. “Think they’re finally gonna make it official?”
“I haven’t heard, but it’d be about time.” And I mean it. Cam and Logan deserve their happiness, even if watching them together sometimes makes my chest ache with envy.
“What about you?” He takes a long gulp of water. “You still talking to that brunette from the charity gala?”
