Page 66 of Pucking the Team

Stunned silence fills the line. For a second I think he might actually explode through the phone. But then he just makes a flustered noise and abruptly ends the call. I let out the breath I was holding.

Holy shit, I did it.

The first step to setting a boundary. I know it’ll take more than one conversation to really change things, but damn does it feel good to finally stand up for myself.

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as I take the exit for Fullerton. But it fades the closer I get to my destination.

Telling my dad to fuck off was one thing…but how candid am I going to get with Ryan?

The dim lights of Revolution Brewing glint off the smooth wood bar top as I spin my pint glass between my hands, the remnants of foam clinging to the sides. Ryan sits beside me, his broad shoulders hunched over his own beer as he traces patterns in the condensation. The silence between us stretches taut, heavy with a decade of unresolved problems.

Just as I open my mouth, searching for the right words to break the ice, Ryan clears his throat. “Look, man, I need to apologize.” His deep voice is barely audible over the din of the crowded bar.

I raise an eyebrow, shifting on my stool to face him. “Oh yeah? For what exactly?”

Ryan sighs, dragging a hand over his close-cropped hair. “For acting like a dick since I joined the team. I know that shit with Madison was ages ago, and I should’ve let it go. Started fresh with you.” He takes a swig of beer, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I guess your confidence just…gets under my skin sometimes.”

“My confidence, huh?” I smirk, though my pulse quickens at the unexpected compliment. “Didn’t realize I had that effect on you, Thompson.”

Color rises in Ryan’s cheeks, and he looks away, his jaw clenched. “Don’t flatter yourself, Dvorak. It’s not like that.”

I take a sip of my beer, feeling a little triumphant that I’m getting a rise out of him. And then I remember the whole reason we’re here. To make amends. To begin again.

To come clean.

I set my glass down and sigh. “I, uh, I need to say something too,” I start. “I kind of wanted you to hate me, all of these years. Frankly, I hated myself, so it felt easy to just let you hate me as well. But Emma made me realize…” My words drift off.

Can I really do this? Can I get this raw with him?

Ryan looks at me unblinkingly. “Whatever it is, man, you can tell me. Emma’s made me realize some shit about myself, too.”

I nod, gaze firm on the counter, then take another long drag of my beer. Here goes nothing.

“Emma made me realize that what happened that night with Madison wasn’t my fault. I, uh, I told Madison no, man. Like, a couple times.”

Ryan’s eyes widen, his beer forgotten in his hand. “What are you saying, Lukas? That Madison…forced herself on you?”

I nod solemnly again, still avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. I was drunk, and she kept coming on to me, even when I said no. I was so out of it. Next thing I knew, she was on top of me. I didn’t want it to happen.” My voice cracks slightly. “I should have fought her off, but I just…froze.”

Ryan sits in stunned silence for a long moment. I risk a glance at him and see his brow furrowed, eyes full of…is that concern?

“Shit, man,” he says finally, shaking his head. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry that happened to you. It wasn’t your fault at all.”

Those simple words of validation hit me like a freight train. I feel a lump rise in my throat, and I quickly take another swig of beer to push it back down.

“Thanks,” I manage gruffly. “It, uh, it means a lot to hear you say that.”

Ryan nods, his dark eyes full of empathy. “Of course. I’m glad you told me. And I’m sorry for how I reacted back then, for blaming you. I should have seen that something was wrong.”

“Nah, you couldn’t have known. I played it off like it was no big deal.” I shrug, trying to lighten the moment. “Lukas the playboy, just stealing people’s partners on any day that ends with Y.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Ryan’s mouth. “Yeah, you were a cocky little shit. Still are, most of the time.”

“Hey now, I prefer ‘confidently charismatic,’ thank you very much,” I quip back with a grin.

Our gazes meet in a heated moment. The tension between us shifts. Ryan’s intense brown eyes lock onto mine and I feel a heated twist in my gut. I lick my lips unconsciously and notice how his gaze darts down to track the movement.

Holy fuck, is this really happening right now? Am I actually thinking that Ryan Thompson is…hot?

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