Page 183 of On the Breakaway

He’s been my best friend for years, and he’s never looked at me like that. Hell, Coach has never yelled at me like this either.

My head throbs as the sound of the stadium slowly filters back in just in time for me to hear the announcers eject me from the game.

I knew they would. The second I slammed him to the ice, I knew there’d be consequences. But I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of them, not when it comes to Avery. I never seem to think about the consequences when it comes to her.

The knot in my stomach tightens as the gravity of my actions hits me.

Tossed from the game.

Probable suspension from additional games.

Letting my team down.

Letting Avery down.

I promised he wouldn’t get to me.

I promised nothing he said would come between us.

As I’m shoved toward the tunnel, I glance up one time to try to catch her eye. Something to let me know that it’s okay.

That we’re okay.

But her seat is empty.

Fuck.

What the hell did I just do?

36

Avery

I don’t remember leaving my seat.

One second, I’m watching officials drag Grayson across the ice, and the next, I’m moving through the tunnel.

The crowd is roaring around me, but it sounds distant and muted as if someone stuffed cotton into my ears. Grayson’s name echoes through the concourse as he gets ejected from the game. The only reason I hear it is because his name was already repeating in my head.

It started when he slammed Damon to the ice.

“Avery.”

Someone grabs my arm, but I shake them off.

I need air.

Space.

I don’t even know what I need, but my feet keep moving anyway.

The concourse blurs around me as I push through people waiting in line while the final minutes of the game play out on the screens around us. The bright lights overhead make my head hurt.

“Avery, slow down,” Harper calls out behind me.

I think.

But maybe it’s Wesley.