The word works its way into my heart like shrapnel, and I almost wish it would stop it from beating. It sounds so good on his lips, but it’s a painful reminder that none of this is real.
“You were horrible to her, and now you’re hiding under the excuse of dating her brother to try and ruin her wedding, all because she wouldn’t fuck you?”
“Wait, what?” Wolfe’s as confused as I am.
“We’re not letting you ruin it. You can keep up this bullshit, but if you let your relationship get out and try to embarrass my future wife for wanting to stay true to herself, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”
I don’t even know what to say.
Wolfe seems to be having the same reaction. “Go fuck yourself. You don’t scare me here or on the ice.”
“I fucking mean it. One fucking toe out of line,” Mark says through gritted teeth before storming off.
Wolfe and I stare at each other for a full thirty seconds before I speak.
“That was weird, right?”
“So weird. What fucking story is your sister telling people?” Wolfe turns back to the bar. “I changed my mind. I’m going to need something stronger than a mimosa.”
We get drinks and sit processing.
“One thing stands out to me,” Wolfe says at length.
“What?” I ask.
“Does Mark think your sister is like a virgin or something?”
“Huh?”
“The way he was talking about her.”
“Ohhh, right.” I sit with the question going over what he said. “I think you’re right. He was acting like she was some pure angel. She like a born-again virgin or something?”
“God, maybe.” Wolfe shudders.
“You know playing them is going to be hell,” I say, imagining him and Ktytor on a fucking rampage. They’re already the most physical team we play.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Fuck off. You’re in the goal and don’t have to deal with it.”
“I promise to take care of all of your bruises, Angel baby,” Wolfe says. His tone is half-mocking…but maybe I should hold him to it.
TWELVE
WOLFE
Self-reflection sucks.
We didn’t talk on the flight home and went directly from the airport to practice. Then, the rest of the week snowballed without us having a conversation. He never seemed to be home. The weekend was weird, and as much as I thought I would enjoy pissing off Steph and Mark, it really didn’t do much for me. I found them both annoying. But strangely, I had the best weekend with Angel. The way we leaned into fake dating, and how I can push his buttons so easily, really did something for my brain. I want to talk to my best friend about all of it and his family, but he’s so busy.
“We have to discuss the team adoption tonight.” I’m waiting for him when he walks in the door.
Archangel takes off his messenger bag, hanging it on the hook, then painfully slowly takes off his gloves and coat, hanging them both up before turning toward me. “What needs to be talked about? Aren’t we doing the same thing we always do?”
“There are still logistics.” It’s something the upperclassmen always do with the freshmen—and basically the way the team gets around hazing.
“I’m just not really into it.”
