“What the hell is wrong with you?” I was too pissed to keep my voice down, and my accent grew thicker like it always did when my emotions ran high.
Drew’s eyes were wild. Not just angry—fucking enraged. And then he screamed loud enough for the entire arena to hear. “You fucked my sister!”
Time stopped.
Everyone around us was dead silent as I stared at my best friend, less concerned about how he found out and more pissed that he’d shouted that shit in front of a fucking audience—including his sister.
Now I was the one enraged, even if I was partially at fault here. I skated closer, staring him down. “Lower your goddamn voice when you say that shit.”
Fire practically lit in his eyes. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
“It’s not how you think—” I started.
His fist connected with my jaw before I could finish the sentence.
Pain exploded through my face, and instinct took over. I dropped my gloves—a stupid move, I knew, but my body was operating on pure adrenaline now—and grabbed him before he could swing again.
He threw another punch, this one catching my cheekbone, and I tasted blood.
We grappled on the ice, each getting a few hits in before the refs and our teammates were able to pull us apart.
“I trusted you!” he yelled. “You were supposed to be my best friend, you piece of shit!”
“I am your best friend!” I shouted back as two of my teammates held me back while Foster and Gordy were holding Drew. “I love her, Drew! I fucking love her!”
That stopped him. For one brief second, we were both frozen, breathing hard, blood dripping from our lips onto the ice.
Then the refs blew their whistles, calling game misconduct and tossing both of us from the game.
We’d both probably be sitting out the next one too, depending on how pissed Coach was.
Coach Maxwell and two of our freshman teammatesescorted us to the locker room. Once it was clear we wouldn’t kill each other, he sent them back out.
Drew stood on one side of the room, his chest heaving, his knuckles already starting to bruise, while I stood on the other. I was pretty sure my face looked worse than his—I could feel my cheek swelling and my lip was definitely split.
Coach stood in the middle, looking back and forth at both of us like he was watching a tennis match for the first time ever and trying to figure out what the point was.
“You two wanna explain what the fuck that was about?”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Drew laughed. Not a real laugh but one that was bitter and made guilt eat away at my chest like acid.
“Ask fuckboy.”
I clenched my jaw but didn’t speak. I couldn’t. It wasn’t an inappropriate term, although I’d only been with one woman for the last seven months.
And maybe it made me an asshole, but I didn’t regret anything that had happened. I could never regret Ava. But I did regret that I’d kept it from Drew for so long.
It didn’t matter how he found out—although I was still curious. It mattered that the truth was out. Well, most of it. I still needed to clear up the fact that I was no longer the fuckboy he thought I was.
“I’m sorry for keeping it from you,” I said, meeting his eyes. “That was wrong.”
“You’re damn fucking right.”
“But I’m not sorry for being with her.” I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “I won’t apologize for that.”
Drew’s expression flickered with what could have been surprise or anger. It was hard to tell right now. “You’ve got some fucking nerve.”
