Page 11 of Code Violation

Silas shakes his head, fingers gliding through the condensation running down his pint glass. “Nothing.”

“You can’t look like that and then not share with the class.”

He keeps his eyes fixed on the glass. “I was just thinking, if you ever wanted to upgrade to a C on the chest and the captain’s last name across your back …” Slowly, his eyes find my face again. They’re much darker than before, swimming in an ocean of thoughts. “I would probably have a spare jersey or two that you could use.”

I roll my eyes, hoping it will get rid of the burn in my cheeks. “I think that’s probably your worst idea to date.” We both know I’m referring to the way Kane would react although I don’t say that out loud. “Your jersey would drown me.”

Silas snorts a laugh, yet we don’t easily fall back into conversation, both of us taking a second to process our thoughts.

For me, I can’t stop thinking about the way Kane would go nuclear if he ever suspected that something was going on between me and his brother, and I wonder if Silas is thinking the same thing.

“We’re allowed to be friends, you know?” Silas says after a beat. “He doesn’t get to dictate who you spend time with. No guy should ever own you in that way.”

I nod once, totally agreeing with him, even if reality couldn’t be any different. Hanging out with Silas is a recipe for disaster. Sometimes, it’s easier to keep certain people at arm’s length, for fear of how easily they could creep beneath your skin or send your toxic ex into a jealous rampage.

Kane always hated me talking to Silas or even laughing at his jokes at the dinner table.

“What do you think, Ves?” Drew’s joyful voice slices through my thoughts.

“Huh?” I ask, picking up my wine and taking another sip.

Her brows pull together, probably because I look miserable. I’m not, but I’m not happy either. It feels like I’ve been fighting uphill battles for most of my adult life. Whether that’s personally, professionally, or over where I live. Nothing has ever been permanent or secure for me, and I envy Drew, who is younger and has everything I want. Including a devoted future husband. At one time, I was convinced that Kane was my endgame. All I did was waste two years in a relationship with him and almost another, fooling myself that his empty promises actually stood for something.

“Do you want to hit up a cocktail bar a couple of blocks from here? June, and a few of the other players’ wives and I are going to check it out.” She attempts her best persuasive smile. “It’s supposed to be really great.”

So much of me wants to say yes. Since I moved to Seattle, this is my first real shot at being a part of a friendship group. Another thing I’ve always wanted.

After a moment, I shake my head and hate that I do. “Is it okay if I skip out on this one?” My eyes find my friend, and I see the understanding in her gaze. “Working in a bar twenty-four/seven kind of gets old, and so do cocktails when you look at them all day long.”

June picks up her wine and downs it in one. “Girl, preach. I don’t know how you do it, honestly. Night after night on my feet like that, I’d be looking for the first opportunity to curl up in my bed and relax.”

I throw her an appreciative look, already mentally scrolling through movie options for what I’m going to put on the TV when I get back to my apartment.

“Let me finish this drink, and I’ll give you a ride home,” Will offers straightaway.

“Nah, I got it,” Silas immediately interjects, eyes still as intense as they were a few minutes ago. “I’m gonna head home myself. I can swing by Vesper’s place and drop her on my way.”

4

. . .

Silas

Vesper’s apartment isn’t remotely on my route back home from the rink, and she knows it.

The silence in my truck has spoken a thousand words on the entire twenty-minute drive to her place.

“I could’ve taken the bus,” Vesper points out, unclipping her seat belt as I pull into a visitor space in the underground garage.

I kill the engine because I’m not planning on leaving right away.

“I’m not letting you take public transport when I have a warm truck and nowhere to be in a hurry. A detour on my way home isn’t a big problem.”

Vesper stares straight through the windshield of my black GMC Sierra, eyes growing wider every second. I follow her line of vision and land on the back of a beaten-up blue Toyota Rav4.

Fuck.

Kane’s car.