Page 16 of Wicked Serve

“It was an asshole move.”

“I know. I really am sorry.”

“I... thank you.” He looks me over, eyes narrowed. “You got expelled?”

“Technically speaking.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I got kicked out.” Talking about it over and over is getting exhausting. “But it wasn’t my fault.”

He laughs shortly. “I’m sure.”

I jerk my fingers through my hair. John deserved to stay at UMass. There’s no point in getting angry about it now, even if I miss the way my life was before. “One of my guys brought blow to a team party. I didn’t know about it until after a freshman got fucked up and hurt himself. That’s it.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “You covered for your teammate.”

I incline my head.

“That’s surprisingly decent of you.”

“It’s the right thing for a captain to do.”

“The guys have heard some rumors. To them—”

“I put the team at risk and got my family to clean up my mess?”

“They listen to me.” He stands, pacing to the window. “I can tell them the truth, and they’ll drop it.”

Huh. I figured he’d make me sink or swim, even after my apology, but I guess I shouldn’t have underestimated his drive to win. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s that. “I’m surprised you’d offer.”

“You can be an asshole on the ice,” he says, looking out the window, then back at me, seriousness in his expression. “I understand why, and you used it to destabilize me more times than I like to think about. But we’re on the same team now. I don’t want the situation that got you here to fuck things up for us.”

“I’ll tell them myself.” I join him by the window. “It’ll sound better coming from me.”

“Fine,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “But it’s my team, Volkov. Don’t forget that.”

My heart drops straight to my stomach. I worked just as hard as he did to become captain, but none of that matters now. He’s a lucky bastard. His relationship with Ryder. His future in hockey. His family, his girlfriend. He won, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s on the back of your sweater.”

“Not anymore.” I already told the assistant coach this, and he just nodded and said he’d mention it to the equipment manager. “I’m just going by Abney now. Mother’s side of the family.”

“But your father—”

“We’re not close.” If I’m going to fully commit to being an Abney, I might as well start now.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Fine. But I want you to do something for me, too.”

The last time I agreed to this, it didn’t lead anywhere good, but I nod. “What?”

He drops the smile. “Stay away from my sister.”

I stare at him for a beat too long. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. I know that she worked for your mother this summer. She told me that you never even met, and maybe that’s true. But I remember what you said about her last fall. You didn’t just jaw about Pen. You spoke about Izzy, too.”

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