“You look like shit, Brewer.” That smooth, dark voice falls over me, making my stomach turn and my brain glitch.
“Yes, well, I’m in recovery. Or did you forget about that?” I bite out.
Vance smiles. “Oh, I could never forget about you, Alex. You know that.”
“What do you want?” I ask, my pulse racing. My heart beats like a freight train.
What the hell is he doing here?
“What the fuck are you doing here, V?” I ask, gripping the door frame.
Vance smirks, leaning one hand against the door. He leans into my space, and instinctively, I hunch my shoulders and look up at him.
And it all comes rushing back like a storm.
All the nights I cried through the pain, reaching for pleasure I’d never feel.
All the games we played on and off the ice.
All the blaring sirens, the hazy alcohol-fueled nights.
His fingers in my mouth, his hands around my throat. His bloody knuckles.
Six years. Six fucking years.
“Isn’t it obvious, Alex?” He reaches for my jaw.
I slap it away, but I don’t miss the sparkle in his eyes when I do so. He chuckles.
“I’ve missed you,” hesays smoothly.
I push him onto my porch, shutting the door with a slam as I walk out after him.
“Haven’t you missed me?” he asks, leaning forward.
I step back, my hand braced on the doorknob.
Just in case.
“Oh really? You missed me? Should have thought about that before you fucking broke my knee, asshole.”
Vance rolls his eyes.
“Alex. You know that was an accident.”
“No, it wasn’t!” I hiss. My hands shake as I ball them into fists.
“Yes, it was,” he says, bracing one hand against the wall.
I steady my breath, staring up at him.
“You’re being dramatic,” he breathes.
“You broke my fucking knee because I broke up with you!”
His eyes go dark and my stomach drops.
“I didn’t mean it,” he growls, hitting the wall with his fist. I hate that I brace for the hit. It doesn’t come, but I feel like a strung wire. I open my eyes to see he’s got both hands on the wall, boxing me in. “You know that. Now let me in, and we can talk about this.”
