Willow squeezes past us. The game has my rapt attention. Some of the other girls have started a chant. Something basic. Let’s go Hawks, and Defense! Defense! I keep my mouth shut. It’s dry anyway. Greyson checks one of the Wolves into the glass, and I smile at the retribution.
Hockey is brutal.
It suits him.
It suits all of them, really.
Miles, their goalie, is put to the test when the Wolves bring it back to our section. Greyson and Erik move on their line, and eventually Steele gets the puck back to Greyson. We burst into cheers, and Steele winks at our section as he coasts past.
He knows how to play the crowd.
And off they go again.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Willow returns with two beers, and I gulp one down. It doesn’t quite quench my thirst or hose down my nerves, but it helps. A little.
She pulls her flask and takes a swig from the metal mouth, then chases it with the beer. I stare at her, but she just shrugs. “Liquid courage.”
“To do what?”
She winks. “Approach Knox, of course. Why do you think all the puck bunnies go to the bar and drape themselves across the players? Because they have all that excess energy…”
“And you’re trying to get to him before someone else picks him up?” Amanda asks.
Willow nods emphatically.
“Who would you get with?” I ask Amanda. “If you have a preference.”
She shrugs and looks out on the ice. “I don’t know. Steele, maybe. Miles and I had a fling last year, so I don’t think I’d go near that again. Too messy.”
I scoff. “You two dated for two weeks.”
“Yeah. We were seen in public together.” She eyes me. “People remember that kind of thing.”
“Noted,” I mutter. My mind goes back to Jack. When we went out after his games, I was always on his arm. And if I wasn’t, no one else approached me. I was untouchable in that regard.
But now I’m… not. Protected anyway.
And it feels good.
In the strangest way, it’s scary, too. The door to my cage has been left open, and I didn’t even realize I was living in a prison. It didn’t feel like one. It didn’t feel like I was trapped or contained. It was just safe and easy and comfortable.
Exactly what the girls said my relationship was. They spotted it before I did.
I heave a sigh.
It’s not like Jack was abusive, or manipulative, or controlling. He was cautious. Protective of what other guys might do or say to me. He often said he knew what went on in locker rooms and he didn’t want any of that to touch me.
Whatever that meant.
The ref blows the whistle, signaling the end of the first period. The players go back to their locker rooms, leaving the ice empty.
Immediately, my phone buzzes.
A text from a number I don’t have saved. I click on it, and it opens to a preexisting message thread. Just one word sent from my phone: Vi
Ah. Greyson.
Greyson
Saw you wince for Knox. You got feelings for him?
I roll my eyes.
Did you see me smile when you knocked the other player into the glass? Don’t judge.
Didn’t take you for one to be bloodthirsty.
I smile, despite myself.
Some things can’t be helped
I certainly hope not.
My stomach flips, and my phone goes off one last time.
Remember our deal.
Why does he go from somewhat charming to irritating in a split second? I glance at the scoreboard, which still rests at zero-zero.
You haven’t won anything yet.
An hour later, they win. Two to nothing.
10
VIOLET
“Are you sure?” Willow is skeptical.
I don’t blame her. I’m asking her to leave me at the stadium, downstairs on the lower level where the team locker rooms are. She walked down with me and a few other girls, and most of the guys have come out. As she watches me, Knox and Miles leave the locker room and stride toward us.
Since this is our home stadium, there’s no bus waiting to take them home. They’re done and free to go.
“You waiting for us?” Knox asks. His gaze is on Willow.
“Maybe,” she replies. “Anyone left in there?”
He glances over his shoulder. “Just Greyson and Steele.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat.
Knox grins at Willow and offers his arm. “Violet seems good here. Let me buy you a drink? Then maybe we can find somewhere to chat…”
My phone buzzes again.
Greyson
Come in.
I wait until Willow, Knox, and Miles are out of sight. My chest is tight, but I force my legs to carry me to the locker room. I push the door open slowly, surprised that the room isn’t brightly lit. There’s just a single row of fluorescent lights on down the center of the room, and the rest is in shadow.
Against my better judgment, I go inside. The door swings shut behind me, and I go down the aisle to the main part of the room. Greyson leans against a row of lockers against the far wall, his arms over his chest.
“Violet.”
I jump a little and meet his gaze. “Why are we here?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I had some questions for you.”
I narrow my eyes. “Oh?”
“First question. Do you feel hopeless?”
I tilt my head. “I don’t understand.”
He pushes off the lockers, straightening to his full height, but he doesn’t come any closer. He’s changed out of his hockey uniform into a black t-shirt and dark-wash jeans. “Do you feel hopeless? About your situation?”
Awareness prickles along my spine. Like this is a trap.
“What situation?” I ask carefully.
“The one where you can’t dance anymore.” He steps closer. “The one where your leg is trash.”
“Because you hit me—” I clamp my mouth shut.
He smiles. “Ah, I see you realized your mistake.” His gaze lifts, moving to our left.
Only then, belatedly, do I realize Steele has been here the whole time. Leaning against a wall almost entirely in the shadows, blending in with his dark clothes. He stands and tosses Greyson a phone. The screen flashes, enough for me to realize what the fuck just happened.
Did I just break the NDA on video?
I try to think about what it said. The terminology.
Can he sue me for simply saying that he hit me?
He can’t do that.
The words ring in my head.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Violet,” Greyson says quietly. He approaches, stopping just in front of me. “You’re in trouble for what you just said. You know it, I know it. And you’re going to help me out by taking care of my friend here.”
My stomach turns. “No.”
“Yep. You blew Jack, the worthless sack of a football player, where anyone could see you. If you get Steele off with your mouth like the good slut you are, I’ll delete my evidence.” His gaze hardens. “Or I’ll send that little clip to my father, and we can see what he does with it.”
I look at Steele. Then Greyson.
I’m going to be sick, but I’m not going to let him steamroll me.
“Absolutely not.”
Consequences be damned. He can’t just blackmail me into it.
He gets even closer. I tip my head back to keep my eyes on his face, on his twisted expression.