Page 48 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 2

Cole was quiet for a little bit, then opened his mouth and hesitated again. Finally, he shrugged. “Maybe he’ll calm down, Gray. Maybe you can still tell him.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No.” Silence seemingly lasted a lifetime. “I’ll never get to see Avery again.” And even if I did, even if he played against me on Friday, he wouldn’t listen to me. And he shouldn’t. I was a liar. He couldn’t trust a word from my lips. At best, he could kick my ass and feel slightly better about the things I’d done to him.

And frankly, I hoped it would happen. We both needed it.

Chapter Fourteen

AVERY

I promised myself it wouldn’t affect anything outside of my heart. The gash he had left in my chest was mine to carry, but it wouldn’t hinder my friends’ chances in the rink. Even if it meant skating out to see Grayson.

For a night and a day and a night, I licked my wounds. I was alone by choice, so I wasn’t ashamed to cry. And when the tears dried up, blissful nothingness wrapped me in its arms.

The murmurs my heart gave at every action I took were almost something I could live with. They would pass, Sawyer had told me. “It hurts now,” he had said on the first night when I had called him over. “It hurts because it was real.”

“It wasn’t,” I had told him, barely able to keep myself whole. “That’s the point. Nothing was real.”

My friend had shrugged and put an arm around my shoulders. “What you felt was real.” And that was all the difference. Grayson Reed could be a liar and a trickster, a playboy and a daredevil, a joker and a cheat, but I had fallen for him hard. I had fallen for him like I hadn’t for anyone before.

Not only had I trusted him with my body, but I had shared my life, my hopes, and my memories with him. And all along, he had expertly played his part, keeping me on a leash like a vanity trophy dog.

My fingers trembled in the locker room on Friday evening. I looked at them before putting on my gloves and wondered why. Why was my chest so tight? It felt like an oncoming panic attack. Grayson was in the same building. He was in the locker room on the other side of the rink. He had undressed there and geared up. He had probably rubbed elbows with Spencer, maybe even laughed at me. Or were they fighting? Grayson had been furious with his best friend, although I wasn’t sure if that was only because Spencer had ended the game Grayson had played with me.

I was on the verge of spiraling when a strong hand clasped my shoulder. “Are you good?” Beckett asked. He wore the sullen expression I had known since I had first met him. Anger simmered in his eyes. Beckett wore his anger openly, not caring who was offended by it.

I gave a stiff nod. “I can do this.”

Beckett shook his head. “That’s not what I’m asking. I know you can play.”

I rolled my shoulders and inhaled a deep breath of air. The faint scent of sweat and musk filled the locker room. “I will be. Eventually.”

Beckett’s hand moved to the back of my neck. He brought our heads together and looked into my eyes, reflecting the same hurt and anger that I felt. “We’re gonna show those motherfuckers who they were messing with, A.”

I clenched my trembling hands.

Before I could say a word, Beckett pressed his lips against my forehead, giving me a caring, brotherly kiss. He had never been particularly affectionate, and he definitely made a great joker, but his words filled me with the courage I had lacked. And his gestures made me feel like there could be a life after Grayson Reed. I still had my friends.

Sawyer was the next in line to offer encouragement. He was oddly cool as if he was trying to control himself. I wasn’t sure what had upset him or if that was the emotion he was trying to contain. He had told me in a tight voice that he had my back. I hadn’t seen him looking so sulky and broody since before he’d met Noah. A worry uncoiled in my guts. Were they fighting? I’d heard that the first months of moving in together were the hardest test for any relationship, but now was not the time to ask him.

We would celebrate after the game. I would ask him at the Thinker. And I knew it would be a celebration rather than mourning. I was going to give my heart and soul to this game. I was going to make Grayson Reed regret he had ever picked up a stick and put on skates. I was going to destroy them.

Beckett gave a little speech about loyalty. He riled us all up, brought our blood to boil, and sent us out to show the fuckers that their parents made a mistake when they brought them into the world. It was almost funny and a touch inspiring to see the competitive spirit mixed with the personal insult they felt. The entire team felt wronged. How dare he hurt one of our guys? I felt this thought bound us all together.

Except, I hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to see him. Two days. Only two days had passed. My teammates were the only thing that held me together when I saw Grayson. The asshole had the nerve to look even better with that deadly serious expression on his face. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen him without a touch of a smile on his lips. Not until now.

His gaze went to my face and my heart lurched. I looked away and someone’s gloved hand gave a clumsy squeeze around my arm. It steadied me and I looked at Grayson again. His lips pressed into a tight line. He watched me until he couldn’t watch me any longer. His gaze dropped to the smooth ice in the rink.

When the game began, my Titans were like dynamite. It was carnage from the first minute. Had we been warring tribes, nothing would be left of the Breakers. Their campfires would have gone out, their treasures looted, and their lives lost. This was as close to it as it could be. Doing a fine balancing act, my teammates charged against the enemies just hard enough to scare the hell out of them but kept it civil enough not to get sent to the sin bin.

I was wrapped in this madness. My blood simmered, my face burned, and I scored more than a few points. It was Beckett’s courtesy to ensure the right openings for me, and I seized every chance I had. I felt vindicated, if only a little, whenever I saw the bitter disappointment rippling across their faces.

The second period was tamer. Coach Murray urged us to strategize. “Brute force will only get you so far before they get together and fight back. You scattered them, now be smart.” He outlined a few tactics that Beckett agreed were wise, even though our captain didn’t hide the fact he was disappointed. He was out for blood.

And so was I. More than once, I saw an opportunity to engage Grayson and not be gentle about it. Part of me was tempted to do it, to hurt him like he had hurt me, but he was smart. Whenever we were even close to a collision course, Grayson disappeared in a different direction, even if it meant hindering his team’s chances against us. There were moments when he could have given into it, could have played my thirst for revenge, but hadn’t.

That coward.

My heart murmured with pain. How could you do this to me? But I didn’t get a chance to ask. Not until the third period when Beckett dropped all pretenses and let his bloodlust drive our tactics. As the minutes ticked away, sweat poured down my face. I struggled and fought and clashed with Cole on more than one occasion. His face shifted between determination to win the game and a desire to say something. He had witnessed my life being torn apart. Not his fault, but I detested the fact that he had been present to see my weaknesses and my failures. I hated that he had watched the world fall around my ears.