Tonight is going to change something.
And there’s no pretending otherwise.
Chapter Nine
Cooper
I don’t give anyone a chance to say a word.
The moment we step inside the hockey house, I guide Brinley straight toward the stairs, my hand firm on her lower back.
It’s still loud. Music pounds through the walls, laughter spilling out from every room. Except for the bedrooms upstairs, anyway. I can feel every set of eyes on us too.
Kade glances up from the couch, his brows lifting, concern flickering across his face. Talon goes still near the kitchen, and I notice Owen’s voice cuts off mid-sentence.
I ignore all of it.
“Let’s head up to my room,” I murmur to Brinley, keeping my voice low.
She falls into step beside me without question, and that alone does something to me.
I keep my focus locked on her the whole time, on getting her away from the noise and stares. My room’s at the end. I dig my keys out of my pocket, unlock the door, and shut it behind us, twisting the lock again without thinking.
“Bathroom’s there,” I say, nodding to the door on the right. “Take your time. Clean towels and washcloths are under the sink.”
“Thanks,” she murmurs.
Her voice sounds steadier now. Almost worn down in a way that feels more honest than calm. Or maybe she’s just learned how to fake it better than most.
She slips into the bathroom, and the door clicks shut.
I drag my hand through my hair and exhale slowly, then lean against my dresser like my legs need support. Adrenaline stillpulses under my skin, refusing to settle, every instinct buzzing like I just stepped off the ice after a bad hit.
This isn’t how I imagined my night ending.
Hell, I hadn’t imagined any of this when I woke up this morning.
When the bathroom door opens again, I look up and—
Everything in me goes still.
Brinley steps out wearing oversized sweatpants and a hoodie that clearly aren’t hers. The sleeves swallow her hands, and I can barely see her feet, if it weren’t for her pink painted toenails.
Her hair falls loose around her shoulders now, her face bare of makeup. She looks younger somehow. It feels like I’m seeing her stripped down to something real.
My breath catches, just for a second.
I don’t feel like I’ve earned the right to see this version of her.
“You okay?” she asks, glancing at me like she has no idea that she’s just unraveled something inside me.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice coming out rougher than I meant for it to be. “Yeah. Just, uh, the bed’s all yours.”
I nod toward it, even though every instinct in my body screams to keep my distance.
She hesitates, shifting her weight. “I don’t want to—”
“I have no problem taking the floor,” I say quickly. “It’s fine. I’ve slept in worse places.”
