Chase gathers his things and heads to the showers, a towel slung low on his hips. I can’t stay here. Not like this. I need air—space to clear my head before I suffocate under the weight of everything I’m feeling. I shove my gear into my bag, grab my jacket, and leave without another word. Carter calls after me, but I wave him off, muttering something about waiting outside.
The icy wind bites at my face as I step into the parking lot. The cold is sharp, shocking my system, but it’s a relief—a physical sting to distract me from the ache in my chest. I make my way to Chase and Carter’s truck, leaning against the side as I fish my phone out of my pocket. My fingers are numb, but I scroll through my messages anyway, hoping for something—anything—to take my mind off the chaos inside me.
Mom’s texts are waiting. And I open the app, scrolling to the first unread one.
Mom: My coworker has a son just a few years older than you.
Of course, as usual, they’re filled with not-so-subtle matchmaking suggestions. I love her, but she never seems to get the hint. I don’t want her help. Letting out a deep sigh, I hope this time she gets the point.
Me: Mom, stop. Do not, and I repeat, do not play matchmaker. I don’t want you setting me up with any of your friends’ children.
Mom: I just want to see you happy. If you’d rather, settle down with a girl.
Her persistence is relentless, but I don’t have the energy to argue. Not tonight.
Me: Mom, stop.
Me: Please.
Me: When I’m ready to start dating, whether it’s a guy or a girl, I’ll do it on my own. Please, just stop trying to set me up.
Mom: Fine.
I close the message, no longer having the mental capacity to continue the conversation with my mother, and open my photo gallery instead, scrolling through pictures of Chase and me. Each one is a bittersweet reminder of what we had, what I’ve lost.My throat tightens as I swipe through the memories, my heart aching with every image.
“Still alive out here?” Carter’s voice jolts me from my thoughts. He’s walking toward me, breath visible in the frigid air, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“Barely,” I reply, forcing a weak smile as I pocket my phone. “Where’s Chase?” I ask when I don’t see him.
“He’s still getting ready. I just wanted a few minutes alone with you to remind you—make sure you talk to him, Blake,” Carter says, his tone firm. “No excuses. Don’t let him drop you off without laying everything out in the open.” He shoots me a pointed look, one that makes it clear I’d better do exactly as he says.
“I’ll try,” I mumble, but the truth is, I’m terrified. What if he hates me more after I explain? What if I’ve already lost him for good?
“There’s no trying,” Carter says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“Fuck. It’s just hard. What if he hates me more?”
“It’s a risk you’re going to have to take. But he’s my brother, and he deserves to know what happened. This shit between you is affecting the team and the two of you playing together. It’s no longer a Blake and Chase issue, it's a Berzerker issue.” He gives me a sharp glare, and I know if I don’t tell Chase the truth, he will.
Before I can spiral further, Chase emerges from the building. My heart skips a beat, but the relief is short-lived. Max is right on his heels. They head straight for us, Max chattering away, completely oblivious to the tension that’s so thick you could cut it with a knife. I turn to face Carter, but he shrugs his shoulders just as clueless as me as to why the two of them are together.
“What’s up, Max? You’re looking good out there.” Carter speaks up, and I want to kick him in the shins for playing nice with the fucker.
I shouldn’t despise the guy so much; he hasn’t done anything. He’s my teammate and all he’s done is be a friend to Chase. Albeit a little too friendly, if you ask me. But technically, we’re not dating, so if Chase wants to pursue something with him, then he’s free to, even if it guts me. But I’m not going to give him up without a fight. Chase Olsen is mine, he’s my endgame. My world.
“Thanks. I’m trying. Got big shoes to fill coming in behind you guys.” He lets out a laugh, but there’s an underlying discomfort to it. Interesting. Do I make him nervous? Has Chase told him more about our situation than what everyone knows from the public blow up we had?
“Why are you standing outside of the truck?” Chase asks as he unlocks the door. “It’s fucking freezing, and you could’ve had it warming up. Go ahead and get in the front Max. That way, you can give me directions.”
I jerk my head to Carter and whisper, “What the hell?”
He shrugs his shoulders before replying to Chase. “Left my keys at home this morning. Are we giving Max a ride?”
“Yeah. We’re heading out tonight to grab a bite, and I need to know where to pick him up. Plus, he was going to wait for the bus and I told him there was no need when we could just give him a lift.”
I grit my teeth as Max climbs into the passenger seat of the truck.
Carter shoots me a sympathetic look before following behind Chase to the other side of the truck. I climb into the backseat, biting back the anger that’s clawing to break free.
