My brows flew up. “What do you mean so?”
“I mean, so what. Go see him anyway.”
“That’s not how it works, Micah.” I pulled away and scrubbed both hands down my face. “He’s banned me from his room.”
“Did he?”
“I—” I stopped. I didn’t actually know that. I knew what he told Nikos, and then I’d stopped trying to see him. Fuck.
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped at him. “It’s not like you’re an expert in relationships. You fuck whoever you want whenever you want without giving a shit about their feelings.” Micah went so silent I knew I’d said something wrong. My throat tightened. “I—I mean?—”
“I know what you meant,” he said quietly.
Shit. I was fucking everything up. “Micah?—”
“It’s fine. Really,” he added when I made a noise of disagreement. “You’re going through it.”
I let out a slow puff of air, then said, “It’s been weird between us. It’s mostly your fault, but today, it’s me, and I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he murmured. “There’s been…it’s…”
I waited, but he didn’t fill the rest of the silence with any kind of explanation about what he was going through or how he was feeling.
“I don’t like it,” I told him. “I don’t like feeling like this. You’re my best fucking friend in the world, and I know it wasn’t Dad that ripped everything apart. And the fact that you’re here means that I know you don’t think we’re broken either.”
“We’re not broken. And it wasn’t Dad. I mean, I’m still pissed Mom threw this at us and you decided to play the dutiful son again, but…I get it. I get why you did it.” He swallowed so heavily I heard it click in his throat. “I know it’s mostly me. Everything is so fucked-up right now, and tomorrow, I have to get on the ice and play this fucking game when all I want is…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t even know what I want.”
“It’ll be over soon,” I told him. The last thing in the world I wanted was to finish this season. I was tempted to fake an injury or beg Tucker to get the organization to suspend me for the rest of the season or something.
But I knew that wasn’t the move. I was better than that, and I was going to see Alexio again. Eventually.
Maybe soon.
“Do me a favor,” Micah said. “Make me a bet.”
“What?” I murmured.
“If we win tomorrow, you go to the hospital and try to see him.”
My heart sped up. “And if I win?”
“Go to the hospital tomorrow and try to see him.”
I let out a watery, ragged laugh and dragged both hands through my hair. “Yeah. I—yeah. Okay.”
“And call me more often. Even if I don’t pick up. I think I need to be reminded you’re still here. And that everything isn’t crumbling.”
I reached for him again, pulling him tight into a hug. “It’s not crumbling. It’s just a little…rough right now.”
“It’s shit.”
Well. I couldn’t disagree with that.
“Fuck yes! Amazing job, boys, you fucking beauties!” Tucker’s voice rang across the ice. It was an easy win against the Fury. Four of their players were out on late-season injuries, and while Miach was playing well, he wasn’t at the top of his game.
I wasn’t either. It was all our offense that got us the win, and I wasn’t sure we were going to make it past the next round—if we made it past Salem.
