Page 58 of Spite Crush

“I said what I said.”

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One shower and one orgasm each later, we were sprawled out on the floor of my living room, empty Taco Bell wrappers scattered around the carpet and both of us regretting the amount of tacos we’d both consumed.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything,” he assured me.

“What does HSF stand for?”

“I can’t tell you that.” His eyes widened as he shook his head.

“I find it hard to believe that no one has ever guessed,” I said. “Or that none of you have ever told anyone.”

“It’s the best kept secret in music,” he insisted. “The most common assumption is that it stands for High School Friends. But that’s not it. It would be fitting though, since that’s the last time all three of us were actually friends.”

“It’s gotten that bad? I mean, I know you were agitated with them when we talked on Wednesday, but I guess I didn’t realize you don’t evenconsider yourselves friends anymore.”

He’d been more than agitated, actually. When he’d admitted he was thinking about walking away from his band, from his entire career, I’d been shocked. I couldn’t imagine anything bad enough to get me to walk away from hockey.

“Ford and I have always bumped heads. He can’t stand how disorganized and flighty I am.”

“You have ADHD.” I stared at him incredulously. How could anyone blame him for that?

“I’m aware.” He chuckled softly. “But Ford thinks it’s an excuse.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Tim isn’t so bad unless Ford is egging him on. I think that no matter what happens with the band, me and Tim will at least end up Christmas card friends.”

“So you’re really considering breaking up the band, and you still won’t tell me what your real name is?”

“What if I told you it doesn’t stand for anything?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I insisted.

“Well, here’s the thing. All of our favorite bands were referred to by their initials. MCR, FIR, BVB. So we knew we wanted a three initial name.”

“So it really doesn’t stand for anything?” I wasn’t sure if that was genius or really fucking annoying. Also, I had no idea who those bands were he mentioned, but I kept that to myself.

“Nah.” He reached out and punched me lightly in the shoulder. “It totally stands for something. But I had you going.”

“You’re such an asshole.” I shook my head. “What happened to truth between us? If we’re going to be partners, we shouldn’t be keeping secrets.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What hockey players have you slept with?”

Fuck.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” I snapped. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

“And this isn’t mine,” he reminded me. “Only the band members know. Well, us and Rye Vixon.”

“Rye Vixon? He’s that asshole from Whiskey & Rye, right? The one who runs his mouth online all the time?”

“Well, first of all, that’s a big old pot calling the kettle black. Also, Rye’s not an asshole,” Kellen said. “He was the one who brought me to the game in Chicago. You saw him in the locker room. And third…what? You know Whiskey & Rye but you don’t know HSF?”

“Well, they’re really famous,” I insisted before realizing that was a pretty insulting thing to say to him.

“I’mreally famous!” He laughed and shook his head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I know.” I grinned at him. “Honestly I only know who they are because they’re on the soundtrack for my favorite video game. I didn’t recognize him that night because I was a little focused on you at the time.”

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