Page 58 of Offside Angle

Damian plants his cane against the floor with a loud clack. Before I can process what’s happening, he grabs the front of my jersey with both hands and hauls me straight off the bench. “Who the fuck are you?” he growls right in my face.

I blink, stunned.

“Hm? Are you some fucking wuss I don’t remember ever having on my fucking roster, Rivera??” Damian hisses, shaking me once by the jersey. His eyes are blazing. “Because the kid I drafted? The one who used to chirp the shit out of everyone and laugh in their faces while doing it? That kid didn’t sulk in the goddamn locker room after a loss like a kicked puppy.”

He shoves me back a step but doesn’t let go of my jersey, keeping me upright and in his face.

“No,” he barks. “You are my fucking defense. You are Matteo fucking Rivera. You got balls. You play through pain. You play through bullshit. You don’t let whatever the fuck is going on in your head turn you into a goddamn liability on my ice!”

The entire locker room has gone dead silent. Everyone is staring — wide-eyed, frozen mid-undress — because Damian Kade is currently screaming at me… but in reverse. He’s not telling me to calm down or take it easy. He’s yelling at me to toughen the fuck up.

Cole’s mouth is actually hanging open. Viktor has one eyebrow raised so high I’m half expecting it to leave his face entirely. Even Shane has stopped muttering to his stick.

Damian gives my jersey another sharp tug, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Whatever the hell is going on with you—Santi, Lena, the fucking weather, I don’t give a shit—you leave it outside this room. You hear me?” he growls. “You are not some fragile little bitch who crumbles because life got complicated. You are a Reaper. Then fucking act like one.”

He finally lets go of my jersey and takes a step back, breathing hard, his bad leg clearly bothering him after the sudden movement. But his glare doesn’t waver.

I stand there completely stunned, while some of the fog in my head finally starts to clear.

“Yes, Sir,” I mutter.

Damian grabs his cane again, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly now that I’ve answered. Without missing a beat, Elias materializes at his side, one hand settling lightly against Damian’s lower back while he stares at me with the bewildered expression of someone who has absolutely no idea what the hell he just walked into.

The rest of the locker room slowly starts moving again, the weird, heavy silence breaking into low murmurs and the usual post-game sounds of gear being stripped off.

A minute later, Shane drops down onto the bench beside me with a heavy sigh, still half in his goalie gear. “You should’ve let me bring you a shaman,” he says, completely serious.

I turn my head and just stare at him.

Shane meets my eyes, unfazed. “What the fuck did you do?” he asks.

I groan and let myself fall sideways on the bench until I’m slumped next to him, one arm thrown over my face.

“I kissed our photographer,” I say, muffled against my arm, “and now my life is upside down.”

Shane slowly turns to look at me, one eyebrow climbing high on his forehead. “Oh,” he says. “But last year when I was drunk and wanted to kiss you, you ran… still cry about it sometimes.”

“Fuck off…” I huff, though there’s no real heat behind it.

Shane snorts and reaches over, ruffling my hair with one gloved hand. “You should tell your girl,” he says, a little more serious now.

I let my arm drop from my face and stare up at the ceiling of the locker room. “I think she already knows,” I sigh.

Not even two seconds later, Cole storms over with enough force to make half the room notice.

“You what now?” he snaps, eyes blazing.

I sit up fast, already feeling the blood drain from my face. “Cole…” I start carefully.

“No. No, no, no.” He cuts me off with one sharp swipe of his hand, then points directly at me. His jaw is locked so tight I can see the muscle jumping near his temple. “Say that again, Rivera. You did what??”

A few of the guys glance over but wisely decide to mind their own business. Even Shane shifts on the bench, clearly prepared to step in if this turns into a fight.

I knew this was coming the second the words left my mouth. Cole might be loud and chaotic most of the time, but when it comes to Lena, something in him changes completely. Protective doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I run a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words and failing miserably.