All of that lived in me tonight, humming under my ribs while the whistle blew and we lined up for the faceoff.
We were playing the Breakers. Nick’s team. I kept telling myself it was just another game, but that was a lie from the first drop of the puck. Nick skated like he had something lodged in his chest that he wanted to beat out of himself. Every shift brought us closer.
The crowd was loud. Students, locals, alumni, everyone mixing into one restless sound. I caught a glimpse of Seth in the stands during warm-up. He sat with Silas, who waved his arms around like he was trying to flag down a plane. Seth did not wave. He just watched the ice, steady and focused, the way he used to watch me in the cabin when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
I should have looked away sooner. I did not.
The game tightened. The Breakers boxed us in along the boards. Keiran barked orders from the center. I felt the old heat in my blood, the satisfying weight of my stick in my hands. And then there was Nick. Always Nick. Cutting across my line,throwing his shoulder into mine just hard enough to make a point.
Fine. I could do this the old way.
We fought for the puck near the corner. Sticks clashed, gloves scraped, blades screeched against the ice. He leaned into me, and I shoved back, the boards trembling under the impact. The ref watched closely but didn’t blow the whistle. Not yet. Not when both of us pretended this was standard play. It was not.
Nick stole the puck from under my blade, and for a heartbeat, we locked eyes. His expression made something old and familiar twist in my stomach. I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe nothing. Maybe worse.
The puck slid free again. I chased him down and slammed him hard into the boards. Not dirty, but not gentle either. Enough to rattle us both, enough to feel like something cracked open between us.
The crowd reacted in a wave, one pulsing sound swirling around us.
Nick turned his head just enough to angle his voice toward me. His cage was inches from my cheek. His breath fogged the metal. His eyes were bright in a way I had not seen since high school.
“I know you’re fucking my brother, Pierce.”
Everything inside me went quiet.
Not the rink. Not the game. Not the players around us.
Just me.
My balance slipped. My stick lowered. Something cold spread through my chest, sharp and fast. The boards felt too close. The ice felt too soft. I took one step back, then another, like someone had pushed me without touching me at all, the rink tilting like a sinking ship.
All the things I had not told Seth crowded in at once. All the things I hoped we could postpone. All the things I had been pretending didn’t matter yet.
Nick didn’t move. He just waited, eyes steady, as if he had been expecting this reaction.
I swallowed. The taste of metal filled my mouth. My gloves felt too tight. My legs felt heavy.
Keiran shouted something from behind me. The ref blew the whistle again. One of the Breakers skated past, throwing me a confused look as if he could not figure out what just happened.
I could not figure it out either.
Everything tilting, everything loud, everything wrong.
And Seth was somewhere in the stands, watching a game that had just changed without him knowing why.
“You can’t even deny it,” Nick spat. “And what’s gonna happen to him when he finds out who you really are?”
He shook his head and skated away, back into the thick of it, while I stood in stunned silence. As I turned around to look at the stands and at Seth, his gaze caught mine. His raised eyebrows evened above his eyes, his mouth grew a little stiff, and the fire dimmed in his eyes.
SIXTEEN
Seth
I pushedthrough the crowd before I even realized I was moving. The noise in the rink pressed in from every direction. My ears rang. People shouted around me, hands in the air, bodies leaning past me to see what was happening on the ice, but it all landed on me like static, humming without any meaning.
Silas caught my arm just as I reached the aisle.
“Where are you going?” he asked, breathless and confused.