Page 153 of Breakneck Hockey

He huffs a sigh. “You’re in love with him.”

“I want to ruin his perfect smile.”

“If you did, you woulda done so by now. You love his smile.”

I guess. But only because he doesn’t smile a lot. Sutter forgot how to smile.

Because he lost his first best friend—his dad—when he was a little boy.My heart squeezes for him.

“It’s part of why you’re so mad at him,” Stacey says. “He’s got the potential to rip your heart to shreds. This situation with the ‘you know what’ has your mind spinning in that direction, doesn’t it? Because you know how quickly and unexpectedly someone you love can be taken away, so you wanna push it all away. You’re tryna push him away hard out there.”

“Clearly, he’s not getting the message.”

“And you wouldn’t want him to.” My brother leans over top of me, his shadow casting its darkness over my ire as if maybe it could swallow it away. “Picture it. You needling Sutter and him not responding.”

I try, but it’s impossible. I can’t picture a time where he hasn’t responded to my on-ice badgering. Nor me his. That’s a thing that will never be. It’s something I can always count on. My lips twitch, threatening to smile.

I can always count on it.

The smile never happens. I frown instead. “He didn’t respond to my off-ice needling.” I didn’t do it on purpose, exactly, but I expected a reaction when I sent him that text. A big reaction. Instead, I got nothing.

Or wait.

Maybe he finally got it. I remember his “bring it on” attitude when we got our first penalty tonight. He was telling me to give him my worst because he’ll never back down, and that he’ll never end our dance.

Well, fuck. I might have to call that Sutter romantic.

Okay, cue the return of my smile. Bet Sutter’s actually super turned on right now from all the fighting.

Stacey squeezes my shoulder. “There you go. You got it.”

I stand up so I can crush the life out of him with a hug. “Thanks, Stace. I’m gonna totally annihilate Sutter next period.”

A throat clears. “No, you’re not.” That’s from an official-looking dude who’s stepped into the locker room. “You’re out of this game.”

“What? You can’t kick me out during intermission. That’s not a thing.”

“It’s not something that happens, but there’s nothing that says it can’t happen. It’s for the best, before you end up with a criminal assault charge.”

Fuck my life, but it’s just as well. Once I meet with the owners, I’m done anyway. I’m just a violent sex fiend. Better to go out with a blaze of glory.

“Case—” Stacey says.

I shake my head. “It’s fine. I did this, I need to pay the consequences.”

Still a piss off, though. I storm out of the dressing room and out of the stadium with no clear idea of where I’m going or what I’m gonna do next.

Chapter 33

Zombie Apocalypse

Sutter

How far does he expect to get in hockey skates on the pavement? Hard to say, but there he is, barreling past the Starbucks just outside of TD Garden. I doubt he knows where he’s going. Alderchuck gets pissed and reacts—that’s where I come in.

“Alderchuck! Al-der-chuck! Casey!” I bellow from behind him. I’m a fast fucker. I catch the bottom of his jersey. “Wouldja just give me a second?”

He spins, showing me his angry beautiful face, his shiny curls whipping with his movement from where they hang under his helmet. “Sutter?”

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