Page 147 of Breakneck Hockey

“I take responsibility for being careless with my phone, but it’s not all my fault. Milton’s the real snake here.”

Part of me knows that’s true, but the other part’s too angry, and Sutter’s the only thing around to yell at.

“Take back the thing you said about me acting like a child,” I demand … like a fucking child. But we’ll visit that point later. He shouldn’t have said it. I yank my black t-shirt over my head.

“Are you gonna stop acting like a fucking child?”

“No, I mean … fuck.” Where’s my damn hoodie? I’m getting out of here. I should be at home with my brother anyway. I let him convince me that I should be with Sutter because I was foolish enough to miss him so much. I knew better. Sutter’s a dick and he’ll always be a dick. Is this really what I want?

I want someone who’ll redefine worship for me. Sutter is so not the vibe. The first sign of real trouble and we implode. Why? Because we’re built on a foundation of sex and lust. You can’t have a real relationship made out of that.

He’s standing across the room, still naked, but we might as well be kilometers apart. I’m too angry to think right now or say anything good. I’m only going to throw more insults at him. Does he deserve them? Probably some of them, but not all of them.

Sutter’s picked up on my wild state and he’s finally—fucking finally—got the message to handle me with care. His hands grapple through his hair, but they’re really grappling with what to do with me.

“I’m going home.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Alderchuck. You’re not going anywhere.” He reaches for his pants, sliding into them, watching me. Prepping for a fight. “Look, I’ll sleep on the couch, and you can sleep in here. Okay?”

I cross my arms. Noooooo way am I sleeping by myself tonight. “I’ll call Jack. He’ll come get me.”

“You’re gonna wake up their whole house—no. Just no. Get in the bed. We’ll talk in the morning once we’ve both calmed down.”

As much as I hate him and Milton, hell, I even hate hockey right now, I want to sleep alone less. Thankfully, hating Sutter is something I’m familiar with. I take the steps across what feels like an expanse, but’s actually just a few feet of carpet, and grab his wrist.

“You’re sleeping in the bed with me, but all you are is a human teddy bear, got it?”

“I can do that.” He grips my arms, rubbing them like he’s been itching to touch me.

“I fucking hate you right now, asshole.”

He shrugs. Sutter’s been dealing with my ire too long to be affected by it. He’s desensitized. “Don’t like you all that much either, currently.”

“Good.”

“Get into bed. I’m gonna put the food away and get you some water.”

Once I’m under the covers that’s when the dam breaks. All the things Milton’s been threatening me with all season, crawl into my mind and shout at me. My anxious brain dreams up worst-case scenarios.

Sutter shuts off the light as he enters the room and slips in behind me. He holds me tightly, just like he did the night he lost his shit. Like I’m an apparition he doesn’t want to lose sight of.

His arms are my safe place.

I cry into the pillow, wrapped in him.

“Milton’s a dead man,” he says, and it’s the last thing I hear before sleep sucks me under.

Chapter 31

Magic Pennies

Sutter

Casey and I fought some more the next morning. I thought he should get a lawyer, but he thought he should call his agent. Milton’s way out of line with the way he violated our privacy. Casey’s so fucking hung up on what he’s done to ruin “their” shot at the NHL—as in him and his brother—he can’t see that he hasn’t done anything at all. It’s nothing but a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point.

He’s certain that the hockey club owners are going to slam the hammer down on him, but I doubt that. I can’t say I know for sure what’s going on, but it just doesn’t add up. Will he chill the fuck out at all? No. I made him eat breakfast with me. He pouted like a child the whole time and then he left in a huff with the excuse that he had to make the team plane.

Casey knew damn well we’d planned to fuck off and head back to Boston together. I didn’t mention it, though. If it makes him feel better, makes him feel like he’s following rules we’ve long broken, then fine.

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