“Don’t,” he cuts in. His voice is controlled, but I can hear the edge. “Don’t give me ‘I’m fine’ when your face looks like that.”
Vinny shifts slightly behind him, eyes scanning the hallway, but he doesn’t interrupt. He’s there without being there. A reminder that we aren’t alone.
Rafe’s voice softens a fraction. “Did someone hit you?”
My throat closes, and I nod.
He inhales sharply. “Who?” His hand tightens around his phone so hard his knuckles go pale—then he exhales through his nose like he’s swallowing something harsher than anger.
I hesitate. The name tastes like poison. “Kirk,” I say finally.
Rafe goes still. His whole body changes—tension coiling through him like a spring. “Your teammate?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?” he asks, voice low and dangerous.
I rub my palm against my thigh, trying to ground myself. “He—he said some things.”
Rafe’s eyes narrow. “About what?”
I swallow. I can’t say it. Not here. Not with Vinny within earshot. Not with the walls of the arena still around us, cameras and staff and strangers everywhere.
Rafe watches the hesitation and seems to understand immediately that there’s more. His expression tightens. “Ollie….”
“I lost control,” I force out. “He pushed, and I—” My breath catches. “I hit him first.”
Rafe’s brows knit. “Youhit him?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He stares at me like he’s trying to reconcile that with the man he knows. “Jesus.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have. It doesn’t matter what he said. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Rafe’s gaze flicks over my face again, anger and worry tangled together. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s just a cut,” I say. “I’ll have a black eye.”
His mouth tightens. “You should have told me.”
I laugh once, bitter and small. “When? While I was getting my ass handed to me by my coach?”
His eyes flash. “Ollie.”
“Sorry,” I mutter immediately, guilt sharpening. “I’m sorry. I’m just?—”
A mess.
A wreck.
A walking consequence.
Rafe takes a slow breath and shifts closer, careful this time, as if he’s approaching a skittish animal. “Do you want me to come to your hotel tonight?” he asks quietly. “I can sneak in.”
My stomach drops. “No,” I say too fast.
His face tightens again. “Why not?”
