Page 54 of They All Puck Me

“Should’ve what?” He stands up abruptly, towering over me. “Passed the puck better? Played better defense? What exactly are you sorry for, Noah?”

His tone sets my teeth on edge. “For not having eyes in the back of my head when you decided to daydream during a crucial play.”

Liam’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare put this on me.”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault now?” My voice rises with each word. “Like it always is? Every time something goes wrong, it’s Noah who screwed up.”

“Maybe because you do screw up!” His shout echoes off the lockers.

Years of resentment bubble to the surface. “You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Mr. Youngest Captain in NHL History. You ever stop to think maybe that pressure gets to you sometimes?”

“You don’t know what pressure is,” he spits back.

“Right, because playing second fiddle to you my entire life has been a fucking breeze!”

The team falls silent around us, eyes darting between us like they’re watching a train wreck in slow motion.

“What’s this really about?” Liam steps closer, our noses almost touching.

“It’s about always being in your shadow!” I shove him back. “About never being good enough no matter how hard I try.”

“You want a pity party? Fine.” He shoves me right back. “But don’t drag the team down with your issues.”

“My issues?” I bark out a humorless laugh. “You’re the one distracted by Olivia every damn game!”

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“She’s already in it,” I snap back. “We all are!”

Before either of us can throw another punch or word, Coach Bergman’s voice booms through the room.

“Enough!”

We freeze as he steps between us, his glare icy enough to rival the rink.

“I don’t care what your personal shit is,” Coach says through gritted teeth. “You either fix your shit and play like a team or find another damn sport.”

Leaving the arena, I spot Olivia talking to another reporter. She's nodding politely, her eyes flicking to me briefly before quickly looking away. The distance she's creating is clear, and I feel a confusing mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that she's stepping back—maybe things can get back to normal now—but also a gnawing sense of loss.

“Hey, Kane!” The voice pulls me out of my thoughts. It's Sam, one of the rookies, holding up his phone. “Did you see the clip of your breakaway? That move was sick.”

I force a smile. “Yeah? Maybe you can learn a thing or two.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “One day, man. One day.”

As Sam heads off, I steal another glance at Olivia. She's now laughing at something the other reporter said, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I consider walking over, but what would I even say? Hey, sorry for throwing a wrench in your career and our chances at the playoffs? Yeah, that’d go over well.

Instead, I turn towards the exit, shoving my hands into my pockets. The cold air hits me as I step outside, a welcome distraction from the chaos inside my head. As I walk to my car to escape the place that use to feel like a refuge to me, I decide that from here on out, I'm done being Liam's shadow. To hell with being his punching bad. I refuse to let his bullshit bring me down any longer.

The gym smells like sweat and determination. My muscles burn as I push through another set of deadlifts, the barbell heavy in my hands. Dropping it with a thud, I take a moment to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Going for a new record, Kane?" Ethan's voice cuts through the air, his tone more curious than mocking.

"Just trying to stay ahead of you," I reply, forcing a grin. "Someone's gotta keep you in check."

He snorts, shaking his head as he grabs a towel. "Good luck with that."

We exchange a look that holds a flicker of understanding. We've both got something to prove, even if our reasons differ. Ethan’s trying to fit in; I'm trying to claw my way out.

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