Page 83 of Pucking Revenge

No. There’s no way.

For a long moment, I watch her. She’s intently focused on the front of the room, and the smile on her face is full of affection. I follow her line of sight and discover that it leads straight to Vin. What the hell?

“They ready for us?” Tyler is waiting for me just inside the locker room, showered and dressed in his game-day suit. He, along with Aiden, Brooks, and Seb, will have to answer for the Bolts’ lackluster performance.

“Almost.” My mind is spinning. Should I mention my suspicions about Jill to him? Should I ask about Brooks?

I’m still considering when Brooks breezes past me without so much as looking my way.

The pain that explodes in my chest at the utter disregard is so harsh I have to suck in a breath to keep from doubling over. “Excuse me,” I whisper to Tyler, fighting back a string of curses. Then I turn to go after Brooks.

Before I can make it to the door, Tyler grasps my elbow and pulls me back into his chest. “Give him some space, Sar.”

I spin and pull my shoulders back, glaring at his hand.

With a grunt, he releases me and takes half a step back. “He had a bad game.”

No shit. I lift my chin and zero in on him. “That doesn’t give him an excuse to be a dick.”

Tyler’s blue eyes soften. “It doesn’t.” Then he arches a brow. “But everything else—” He sighs, his shoulders slumping with an invisible weight. “He’s spiraling, and he’s just trying to get his bearings. As his friends, it’s our job to have his back. And if he’s a dick? Then we should remember not to take it personally. He’s just working through some shit.”

I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stave off the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. Fuck. Brooks told Tyler. My stomach sinks at the thought. What exactly did he tell him?

“Well, as his girlfriend, Tyler, it fucking hurts.” I clear the emotion from my throat. “You may be okay with it when he acts like a dick, but I’m not. So if you’ll excuse me, it’s time I called him on his shit.”

Instead of arguing like I expect him to, Tyler studies me with his lips quirked up on one side. Then he shakes his head and lets out a surprised laugh. “Yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Maybe it is.”

I don’t have a clue why he’s so smiley, but I don’t have time to consider the reasons. I have another hockey player to put in his place. So with a nod, I stomp off in search of Brooks. When I find him, he’s standing outside the pressroom, his attention on his phone.

To quell my anger, I take in deep breaths as I approach. The sharp tapping of my heels on the concrete floor announces my arrival.

He snaps his head up, and his eyes soften for a beat. His hair is still wet from his shower, but it’s back in a low bun. A navy-blue pinstripe suit strains against his thick shoulders as he pockets his phone and stands taller. He dips his chin and takes a deep breath. When he focuses on me again, it’s like he’s secured the shutters over his heart. The warmth in his eyes that’s always been all but permanent is absent, and his mouth is fixed in a straight line. He’s emotionless.

“What the hell is going on?” My voice quivers. I keep my head held high, but an acute pain radiates through my entire body. I’m at a loss as to how to fix what’s wrong between us.

For days he’s been nothing but cold. For days he’s pushed me aside like I’m his dirty little secret. It’s Seb all over again.

Brooks wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be safe.

He studies me, his gaze remaining cool. “What are you talking about?” With a glance over my shoulder, he huffs. “Played like shit, got reamed by Coach. Now I’m about to go talk to the media, where they’re going to go on about how I couldn’t stop a puck even if it was slow rolling into the net.”

The sigh that escapes me is pure exhaustion and anger. “I could give two shits if you let in seventeen goals, Brooks. I’m talking about us.”

His jaw ticks, but he keeps his focus locked on something just behind me. “What about us?”

“You’re acting weird. I thought—” I shake my head and look away, willing myself to keep my composure. Whatever I thought was obviously wrong. It’s clear our connection was only physical for him. But God, it hurts. So much more than when I discovered Seb’s betrayal, even. Because this is Brooks. Because I thought our friendship mattered more to him. “Forget it.”I take a step back, suddenly desperate for a moment of privacy to pull myself together.

Brooks clutches my shoulders and spins me against the wall, essentially creating a shield between me and the world with his body.

I can’t hold back the gasp that escapes me at the abrupt move.

“You thought what?” His voice is quieter now, his expression a fraction softer.

“Am I bad luck?” I slump back against the wall. “Is that why you won’t come near me? Or did I do something wrong?”

With a groan, he drops his head back. When he straightens again and focuses on me, the old Brooks is there. Eyes warm, face full of nothing but affection. He angles forward, like he can’t get close enough, and cups my face. “No, Sara. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?” The ache in my chest flares. “Why are you acting weird?”

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