Page 27 of They All Puck Me

"I don’t need to prove anything to you assholes," I cut him off.

The tension between us is palpable as we head back onto the ice for yet another round of drills. My plays are no less aggressive—if anything, they’re more calculated now. Every pass and hit is precise and intentional, leaving no room for mistakes or misinterpretation.

But even as we push through practice, my mind keeps drifting back to Olivia and those damn rumors swirling around her and my teammates.

By the time practice ends, my body is sore and my mind is still buzzing with frustration and confusion. Coach Bergman dismisses us with a stern look directed at me.

As we head off the ice and into the locker room, Liam grabs my arm before I can slip away.

His grip on my arm is like a vice, his blue eyes boring into mine. "What the fuck is the deal, Ethan?"

I jerk my arm free, my temper flaring hotter than the ice beneath us. "The deal? Maybe it's your shitty leadership."

Liam’s jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerous. "Watch it, Reynolds. You're on thin ice."

I snort, shaking my head. "Thin ice? Please. You couldn't lead a team out of a paper bag."

Noah steps up, his easygoing demeanor nowhere in sight. "Ethan, back off. Liam's a damn good captain."

I turn my glare to Noah. "Of course you'd say that. You're only in your position because you're up his ass."

Noah's eyes flash with anger, and he takes a step closer. "You're one to talk about positions, Mr. Chicago Screw-Up."

The words hit harder than any check I've ever taken. I can feel the tension rise as the other guys watch us, but I can't stop now.

"At least I’m not riding someone else’s coattails," I snap back.

Liam steps between us, his presence commanding as always. "Enough! You want to prove something? Do it on the ice, not by causing fucking problems."

"You think you’re some kind of hero?" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "All you’ve done is make this team soft."

Liam’s eyes narrow dangerously. "Soft? We’re fighting for the Cup, and we don’t need some loose cannon jeopardizing that."

"Yeah," Noah adds, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe you were better off in Chicago... oh wait, you got that fucked up too."

The words are like a punch to the gut, but I refuse to show it. "You don’t know a god damn thing about what happened in Chicago," I growl.

"I know enough," Liam says coldly. "You couldn’t keep your shit together there, and you’re not doing any better here."

My fists clench at my sides, and it takes everything in me not to swing at him right then and there.

Before I can throw a punch, Olivia appears and steps between us, her eyes wide with concern. "What is all this shit?" Her voice cuts through the tension like a sharp blade. She looks at me, then at Liam and Noah, her gaze lingering on each of us.

"Just a little team bonding," I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Liam scoffs. "If by bonding you mean trying to start a fucking war."

Olivia’s eyes dart between us, and I see the worry etched in her features. "You guys are supposed to be a team. This isn’t helping anyone."

I cross my arms, the frustration boiling beneath my skin. "Tell that to Captain America over here."

"Shut up, Ethan," Noah interjects, his voice steady but firm. "This isn’t the time or place."

Olivia turns to me, her green eyes searching mine. "Ethan, is everything okay?"

For a moment, I’m caught off guard by the genuine concern in her voice. It’s been a long time since anyone’s looked at me like that. I force myself to look away, clenching my jaw. "Yeah, everything’s just fucking peachy."

She doesn’t buy it for a second, but she shifts her attention to Liam and Noah. "Look, whatever this is about, can’t it wait until after playoffs? You’ve got some important games coming up."

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