Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)(82)
He flies up to the crease and stops abruptly, digging in his skates to spray me with shaved ice. If someone from another team snowed me during a game, he’d be the one kicking their ass.
Gripping his Bauer in both hands, he gives me a look that says he wishes it was my neck he was strangling instead. “And you’re not supposed to fuck your friend’s sister, but that didn’t stop you.”
Here we go. He’s had all morning to explode, and now he’s doing it at practice.
“Come on, man. That has nothing to do with you.”
“On what fucking planet does Seraphina have nothing to do with me?”
Dallas skates up behind Chase and pivots, wedging himself between us. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he carefully pushes us apart. “Cut it out, you guys. Miller is watching. Do you want to get the whole team bag skated?”
“Frankly, Ward, I don’t give a shit.” Chase says through clenched teeth.
“That’s nice, but the rest of us do. We need to leave some gas in the tank for our game tomorrow.” Dallas spreads his arms wider, increasing the distance between me and Chase to his full wingspan. “Obviously, you two have a lot to talk about, and we can deal with that once we’re off the ice. The only thing you should be worried about until then is working on your snipe, and the only thing Ty should be focused on is blocking it.”
Chase glowers at me. “Fine.”
He stops actively trying to decapitate me, but the rest of his shots are still excessively forceful considering it’s only a practice. By the end, I know I’m going to have several bruises on my shoulders and knees to show for it.
With some significant effort on Dallas’s part, Chase reluctantly agrees to meet us for a drink after we hit the showers. He reiterates that he’s not promising anything and he’s only staying for one beer. Guess it gives me a small window of opportunity to smooth things over.
My nerves jangle as Dallas and I pull into the parking lot of Overtime. It’s a small miracle I’m not banned from here after hitting Rob, but one of the bartenders caught the tail end of our altercation and realized who was at fault.
We grab a table and wait, making small talk while avoiding the topics of Chase, Seraphina, and anything related. Chase rolls in more than fifteen minutes late, probably to make a point because he’s still sulking. Knowing him, he sat in the parking lot to intentionally kill time.
He takes his sweet ass time crossing the bar to us. Then he reluctantly flops into the seat across from me like being here is some massive inconvenience. Love the guy, but sometimes he can be a man child.
Once the server brings our drink orders, Dallas takes his beer and pushes to stand. He lingers at the head of the small table, leveling us both with a reproachful look. “Now that we’re all here do I need to stick around and play mediator, or are you two capable of talking it out like adults?”
“Adults,” Chase and I mumble in unison.
“Good. Then I’ll be over there watching the game, enjoying my nice cold beer, and making sure you fools don’t kill each other.” He points to a nearby table facing the bank of widescreen TVs. “If I have to get up to intervene, someone’s getting bitch slapped.”
“Way to take my side, Ward,” Chase snaps.
Dallas gives him a pitying look. “You know I love you, Carter. But if you’re too stubborn to see what’s really going on here, that’s on you.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He gestures with his beer in hand. Dallas’s back is already turned, and he’s halfway to his seat.
I’m not sure what he meant, either.
Chase and I look at each other from across the table while he shoots daggers at me with his eyes. Guilt wanders into my mind, because he’s one of my closest friends and I didn’t intend for things to turn out like this. I’m not sure what my intention was.
A heavy silence fills the air between us.
“What’s going on between you and Sera? Explain.” Chase raises his dark eyebrows expectantly.
“Sera and I—”
“What the hell were you thinking?” He places his forearms on the table and his glare takes on a venomous quality. “You know my sister has been in a vulnerable place with the move and our mother being sick.”
I wrap my hand around the cold bottle of beer, channeling my patience. “Let me start at the—”
“Like fuck, man. I thought I could trust you.”
My teeth clench together so hard they’re at the risk of grinding into dust. I’m not clear on what I’m supposed to do when he clearly has no interest in hearing me out. No surprise there. Arguing with Chase is about as worthwhile as arguing with a wall, and I knew that going in.
“Are you going to let me talk, or would you rather interrogate me?” I ask. “Or maybe you’d prefer to sit here and bitch at me until you run out of breath? Just trying to determine how to proceed on my end.”
His nostrils flare. “Let me guess, this little arrangement was your bright idea?”
That question puts me in an impossible position. Not like I can tell him it was Sera who suggested it after we had sex in the announcer’s box.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” I tell him honestly. “I’m trying to walk the line between being respectful to her and truthful with you.” Emphasis on the former. Seraphina’s privacy and her feelings matter more to me than anything.