Page 42 of Ruthless Blade

"Friday night," I muttered to myself, shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the dorm lot.

What the hell did I get us into?

The plan was dangerous and stupid. Trying to play a doting boyfriend to the girl I despised was going to require acting ability I didn’t possess. Did I really despise her though? Could I keep telling myself that?

As I navigated the campus streets back toward the hockey house, not wanting to go to the apartment I refused to stay in, the heavy ache in my chest shifted into a hard focus. He’d told me he wanted us to stay there together, but I refused. We were being pushed together because of this, and with the way my...feelings were towards her, I couldn’t be around her anymore than I had to.

Feelings? What the fuck are you saying, Kayden? Snap the fuck out of it.

If Dad thought he could glide into a new life, blending our families together while ignoring the giant, gaping hole my best friend left behind, he was wrong. Lex and I were going to hand him a reality check wrapped in a scandal.

When I pulled into the driveway of the house I shared with four of my teammates, the lights blazed and the bass vibrated from the living room speaker, probably keeping the whole damn street awake. The guys were celebrating, and normally I would be too, but I wasn’t in the mood anymore.

I killed the engine, but didn't get out right away. Pulling out my phone, my eyes stared at the blank text thread with her. My thumb hovered over the keyboard for a little too long, trying to figure out what to do. What should I do? I can’t give in...I can’t. Even if I wanted to.

Fuck this.

I locked the screen, shoved the phone into my pocket, and grabbed the gear bag from the trunk. I had worked hard at ensuring that there was a giant boundary between us, and we needed to keep it. I needed to keep it, or I’ll be haunted for the rest of my fucking life.

Come Friday, when we walked through the front doors of Dad’s house, the line between fake and real was going to get blurry. I needed to make sure I didn't lose my footing before the game even started.

The front door swung open, and a wall of heat, beer, and blasting music hit me right in the face. Maybe the apartment isn’t such a bad idea after all.

"There he is!" Kellan yelled from the kitchen island, raising a red cup in my direction. "The man of the hour!"

Definitely not the man of the hour, Kellan.

A chorus of rowdy cheers echoed from the living room couch, but I offered a tight nod, slinging the bag onto the floor by the entryway. The adrenaline from the game-winner had completely evaporated, replaced by the lingering weight of her tears. Not in the mood for this. I wanted to plant face first on the bed and completely forget about all responsibilities for the next week.

"Hey, lover boy."

Fuck, not right now. Not fucking now. I didn't even have to look to know it was him. My teeth grated. Why was he here? Did we have to invite him to every party? He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, still wearing the team jacket. He hadn't showered yet, and the bitter stink of a guy who had spent the entire game riding the bench radiated off him.

"Not tonight, Garcia. Not in the fucking mood.” I muttered, brushing past him to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"I saw you after the buzzer," he said, his voice lowering so the rest of the guys in the living room couldn't hear.

Does the guy know how to butt out of one’s life? Fuck, my life isn’t a damn television show for him to watch.

He stepped closer, invading my space. "I noticed you chasing after her in the parking lot. Alexis, right? The figure skater? Hasn’t it only been a year since her brother died? Pretty convenient that you're suddenly sniffing around his little sister right when the draft scouts are asking questions about your focus."

This motherfucker...

Every muscle in my body locked up. The water bottle in my hand crinkled loudly under the violent grip of my fingers.

I turned around slowly, letting my shadow completely take over. I stepped into his space until his back hit the edge of the kitchen counter, my jaw clenched. The C I wore proudly across my chest during a game was about to vanish, the inability to ignore his bullshit ramblings out the window.

"Keep her name out of your goddamn mouth," My voice was low, dangerous. If he wasn’t careful, I’d gladly rectify the situation, putting him on his ass, consequences be damned.

Voices around us stopped talking. I leaned in, my eyes narrowed on his. A flicker of doubt crossed his face. "You want my minutes? Earn them on the ice. She is none of your fucking concern. Do you understand me?"

He swallowed hard, his chest heaving, but he didn't say another word. He pushed past my shoulder and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

My chest heaved as the silence settled back around the music. My hands shook slightly. Why was I acting like this? Things between us were blending into territory I had no permission to enter.

I leaned against the counter and pulled my phone out of my pocket.

“Are you okay?” Kellan asked, but I didn’t look up. No dude, I’m fucking not okay.