His words hit like a slap, his tone dripping with venom. He stands, stepping back over the seats, leaving me frozen in place.
My heart races, my mind spinning.What the fuck do I do now?
I glance down at the ice, catching one of the players staring up at me. Through the helmet, I can’t see the face clearly, but something tells me it’s Carter.
Grabbing my bag, I leave the rink, the cold air outside biting against my skin as I pull my jacket tighter. My mind races with a storm of thoughts. I need to fix things between Blake and Chase—that’s priority one. But I also need to deal with Antony. There’s no way I can keep skating with him, not after what he’s become.
Settling into my car, I turn on the heat, my fingers trembling as I pull out my phone. Antony’s latest message flashes on the screen:
AntMan: Don’t make me tell your father what a slut you are. We’re going to the Olympics, then you’re free to go.
My grip tightens as I scream into the empty car, slamming my hands against the steering wheel. I need a plan—a way to take back control.
Scrolling through my contacts, I hover over a name I never thought I’d reach out to again. I don’t even know why I put them in my new phone other than I needed to have them, just in case. They didn’t have this number. It’s not like they could text me. There would be no waking up to a good morning message or a sweet I love you from them. But having it in my phone gave me some type of security. It gave me the choice to message them one day if I wanted to, and today is the day.
Carter.
My heart pounds as I type out a message:
Me: Hey Carter, it’s Ginny. This is my new number. We need to talk. You’re right. We need to fix Blake and Chase. When can wemeet? We just have to make sure my dad and Antony don’t find out.
I hit send, exhaling as the message leaves my phone. Step one is in motion. Now, I just have to figure out the rest.
I wait for a moment, anxious for a reply, until it hits me like a freight train. He’s at practice. God, I feel so stupid right now. Antony has my nerves so rattled, I’m not even thinking straight. Dropping the phone into the console, I shift the car into gear and pull out of the parking spot. I need coffee with at least four shots of espresso in it.
Chapter 10
Blake
Damn it. My gameis completely off, and I know Coach has noticed. How could he not? You would have to be blind not to.
The frustration simmers in my chest as I storm into the locker room, tossing my helmet onto the bench with a loudclang. I’m furious—at myself, at the mess I’ve made of everything. I’ve always prided myself on keeping my personal life off the ice, but today? It’s bleeding through the cracks, staining everything.
I yank my jersey over my head and throw it on top of my bag, collapsing onto the bench with a heavy sigh. My head is in my hands when his voice cuts through the low buzz of the locker room chatter.
Chase.
The reason for my spiral, the reason my focus is fractured. Hearing him speak is like a punch to the gut. I glance up, and there he is—standing by his locker, laughing at something the guy next to him said. That smile. God, that smile should be aimed at me, not at the guy stealing his attention. Max, thefucking freshman, that seems to constantly be up his ass every time I turn around.
“Stop staring and get it together,” Carter snaps, stepping into my line of sight, blocking my view of his brother.
“I’m trying,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. I shift on the bench, peering around Carter so that my gaze once again lands on Chase. He’s still chatting with Max, completely oblivious to my turmoil. They aren’t flirting, at least not obviously, but the sight of them together ignites a fire in my chest. Chase is shutting me out, confiding in someone else, and I have no one to blame but myself. What am I doing? I don’t know that he’s told Max about us for sure, but he’s giving his attention to him, and that’s a whole hell of a lot more than he is to me.
I have no one to blame for that but me. I left that night. I made a stupid mistake and instead of trying to fix shit like fucking adults, I kept pushing Chase away every time he tried to work out our issues. Why? Because I’m a pussy and I didn’t want him to know what a fuck up I am. What I did. I still don’t. I just know if there is even an inkling of a chance for us, I need to be completely honest with him.
Carter crouches in front of me, his voice low but firm. “Look, he’s hurt. You told him you didn’t want anything to do with him—that it was a mistake. What the hell did you expect? I should kick your ass for that. The only reason I haven’t is because I know you love him. You just need to tell him the truth about what happened that night. He’s going to be hurt, but I know my brother. He’s going to forgive you.”
“I’ve tried.” I sigh, unbuckling my leg pads and putting them off to the side, before bending over to untie my skates. The words feel heavy, like stones I’ve been carrying around for weeks.
Carter straightens up and claps me on the shoulder. “Shower, change, and we’ll give you a ride home. Chase drove, so you’restuck with us, anyway. I’ll even sit in the back and put my headphones in so you can talk to him in private.”
“No—”
“Not taking no for an answer, Blake,” he interrupts, already heading toward his locker. “Fix this. Get it out in the open so we can all move on. And maybe after that, we can focus on Ginny.”
I don’t respond, too focused on the ache in my chest as I watch Chase. His back is to me, the intricate eagle tattoo across his shoulders a vivid reminder of nights spent tracing the lines with my fingertips. My stomach twists as he turns around, and our eyes meet—his emerald-green gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, it’s like the world goes silent. Just us, suspended in time. Then, as quickly as it began, it shatters. His jaw tightens, his lips press into a thin line, and he looks away, pain flickering across his face.
I know I’m the reason for that pain. And his expression is like a knife to my ribs.
