Page 83 of Trade It All

“Coming to say hi to my girlfriend,” he says easily, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “I’m playing in her arena tonight. Figured I deserved at least that.”

Girlfriend. My stomach twists. He says it like the last few weeks didn’t happen. Like me leaving. Like the bruises. Like the boxes. Like none of it exists.

“Since you weren’t able to follow me to Denver yet because of your job.” He smiles when he says it. Actually smiles.

And all I can think is—he is fucking crazy.

I push my chair back slowly and stand, needing my full height, needing something between us even if it’s just my desk.

“Tyler, you need to leave.”

His brows rise like I’ve said something silly. “Maddie, don’t do this.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He takes one slow step farther into the room. “You embarrassed me.”

My pulse kicks harder. I keep my voice level. “Go get ready for your game.”

Another step. He tilts his head.

“That’s what this is, huh? Need me to go get ready because you think the Mustangs are going to beat us?”

I blink. What? He laughs again, but there’s nothing funny in it now.

“You always pick them over me.” His voice gets louder. Accusing. Sharp. “You always pick this place over me. These people over me. Thatfucking coachover me.”

Ice shoots through my veins. He knows. Or suspects. Either one is bad.

“Tyler,” I snap, all civility gone now. “Leave.”

Instead of listening, he comes closer. I step around the desk. Away from him. My breathing turns too shallow. He keeps coming.

I lift my chin, forcing steel into my voice.

“Get. Out.”

His jaw twitches. His face changes. The polished hockey-player smile disappears and that familiar wildness slides in behind his eyes.

The one I know too well. The one that says I pushed too hard.

My phone starts ringing on the desk. The sound nearly makes me jump.

Tyler’s eyes flick toward it. I move faster. I snatch it up right as he reaches.

Luka.

Thank God.

I answer without taking my eyes off Tyler.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Mads. Where are you at? I’m here with Coach.”

Coach. Dean.

My heart slams against my ribs. Tyler’s expression darkens immediately. I can feel him listening. Watching.