“You only clean things that are already clean when you’re stressed.”
Kai opens the fridge and stares into it like it personally betrayed him. It’s the same way he stares at opposing forwards when they think they can sneak around the boards.
“We need groceries,” he says.
“We have food.”
“We have eggs, pickles, and sadness.”
I smirk and collapse onto the couch like my spine is optional. “Eggs are elite.”
Kai finally looks over, one dark eyebrow raised. “You’re an eighty-year-old trapped in a twenty-one-year-old’s body.”
“Senior year has aged me,” I say, because it’s easier than admitting my brain is a constant highlight reel of everything I have to be. Chasing a future for not only myself, but also for my brother, who never got the chance. It puts an insane amount of pressure on every decision I make, but no one seems to understand that. Probably because I’ve never told anyone the truth.
“Not an excuse.”
He leans back against the counter with his arms crossed, and I’m suddenly very aware that I’m being evaluated. Kai does this constantly—goes quiet, watches, catalogs. It’s what makes him a great player and an even better team captain.CaptainMercer doesn’t guess. He reads the play before it happens. Right now, he’s reading me.
“So,” he says slowly.
I narrow my eyes. “So what?”
“You going to Carter’s,” he asks, voice deceptively casual, “or are you staying in to message your mystery girl?”
“She’s not—” I stop myself. I can already hear Weston in my head, cackling. “I’m not staying infor her. Plus, we both saw how the party went a couple weeks ago when Hayes sawme dancing with Lyla. I don’t need him putting a target on my back.”
Kai’s eyebrow lifts higher. “Whatever you have to tell yourself. You’re staying in because you love being alone on a Friday night.”
“I love sleep,” I lie.
“Bennett.” His stare is flat. “You haven’t slept well in years.”
Touché.
I grab the nearest object—a pillow—and hurl it at him. He catches it one-handed without even looking like he tried.
“Go be a menace elsewhere,” I tell him.
“Oh, I will.” He hesitates, and the shift is subtle but real. The captain drops. The brother—my roommate, my best friend—shows up under the armor. “Just…be careful, yeah?”
I frown. “It’s a school forum, Kai. Not the dark web.”
“I know.” His jaw ticks once. “Just—she could be anyone. Maybe not even a chick.”
“She’s not a catfish.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know enough,” I say, and I hate that it comes out defensive.
Kai studies me for a long beat, like he’s deciding whether to push or let me have the space to make my own dumb decisions. Then he exhales and shakes his head, backing off like he does on the ice when he’s choosing discipline over impulse.
“Don’t fall in love with a username,” he says, and there’s a warning in it that isn’t just about me. It’s about what happens when feelings become a distraction. What happens when the room senses weakness. What happens when the captain loses control of the narrative.
“Go wash your balls, Mercer.”
His mouth twitches, and then he laughs—an actual laugh, which is rare enough that Weston would probably throw aparade if he were here to witness it. Kai disappears down the hallway to get ready, and a minute later I hear the shower turn on.
