Page 98 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 2

“And I don’t believe a word that is coming out of your mouth,” he spat, looking into my eyes with something too close to hate for my heart to bear. “Either you’re lying to me now, or you’ve been lying for months.”

The stiffness in my neck was such that a headache throbbed in the back of my skull. I deadened my eyes as best as I could, looking at him, and said nothing.

“You don’t mean it,” he said, panicky now. God. Couldn’t he just stop? Seeing how upset I made him left me feeling two opposite things at the same time. I felt relief that I was freeing him of this as much as I grieved that he was heartbroken. But when my expression didn’t change, Tyler seemed to see me in a new light. His eyebrows rose. “You’re serious.”

Again, I said nothing. I could no longer trust my voice not to crack.

We had been together since we were born. We had been inseparable all our lives, and we rushed into a wild, wonderful thing without fearing the consequences. Our carelessness had cost us our friendship.

Tyler stood abruptly. “If you have nothing else to say, I think I’ll go now.”

The knot in my throat tightened so much that it hurt. Just go, I wanted to shout. Don’t look back.

The hurt he felt at my silence rippled over his face and he turned away from me. I couldn’t watch him leave, but I heard his footsteps receding, fading, disappearing far behind me.

When I was sure he was gone, I looked over my shoulder to check anyway, and then I buried my face in my hands. And I wept.

Chapter Eighteen

TYLER

My consolation prize was an empty house to cry in. Dad was still at work when I stormed inside and slammed the door closed behind my back, then stomped up the stairs and shut myself in my room.

By the time I reached my bed, a growl was rising in my throat, and I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to march over there and force him to tell me the truth. Which was it, then? Had he been lying to my face all along? Or was this some stupid idea he had concocted on the go for…what? I didn’t know. But this wasn’t like him.

And I should fucking know! I had known him for over twenty years. If anyone in this world knew how Sebastian acted, it wasn’t his fanatic father or his distant mother. It was me.

I was too furious to cry and too hurt to rage. In the end, I merely wrapped my arms around a pillow and panted like I was running out of air.

When I shut my eyes, all I saw was Sebastian. And when I opened them, the room was tilting and spinning around me that I wanted to vomit.

I kept them open.

I couldn’t face the mental images that ran through my mind. I couldn’t stand to remember him with paint smeared all over his face when his biggest problem in life was whether or not he dared to bottom for me. I couldn’t let my mind take me back to the basement of our team house, to the drunken night when we’d talked about soulmates, and I realized with unshakable clarity that he was mine.

For all the good it did me.

Soulmates or not, Sebastian was as stubborn as a mule. If he was fixed on an idea, there was no budging. However frustrating, I loved his stubbornness as much as everything else about him. But he wasn’t going to change his mind. He’d made a terrible decision, not giving a fuck about me for the first time in my memory, and he would stick with it if I knew the first thing about him.

How could he?

The question echoed through my head, but I knew better than to think about it. It only hurt to wonder. Searching for answers was pointless. Either he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t want to continue, or he kept his reasons hidden. If that was the case, I couldn’t hope to find out.

I buried my face in the pillow and released the growl that had been suffocating me. It turned out to be little more than a moan.

Again, the images welled up in my mind. I recalled every beautiful moment of catching a glimpse of him on the ice as he skillfully tackled the opponents, stealing the puck and sending it to our guys, earning us victories time after time. I remembered his naked body, Sebastian lying on his front, his gorgeous ass curved and lifted, his head resting in the fold of his arm, his upper back rising with heated breaths of anticipation. I remembered what it felt like to hold him close, his back and my front pressed together, the sweat of our bodies mingling on us, my soul merging with his, our sighs and gasps matching and mixing.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Dad’s return pulled me back from my memories. Cheeks wet, eyes grainy like Sebastian had thrown a fistful of sand into my face, I sat up and heaved a deep breath.

The last thing I wanted was for someone to see me like this. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stand up.

I wanted to sleep forever. And to dream. To dream like I had dreamed all the nights I’d spent with him.

Dad’s brief routine upon returning from work bought me enough time to drag my ass into the bathroom and wash my face. I could do nothing about the redness in my eyes or the lack of life my body displayed. Numbness was setting in and I couldn’t smile if my life depended on it.

My heart murmured softly while I descended the stairs. I knew that Dad would shower after work, put on his home clothes, and check in on the miniature in the garage before coming to find me. I also knew that if I remained in my room, I would curl up in my bed, and he would find a disintegrating mess instead of his son. A shell of a boy he loved. So I had to find him first.

When I walked into the garage, I found him gazing over his creation. It’s a better world, I realized. It was a utopia that he had made and was constantly improving, expanding, and renewing.