Page 116 of Iced Out

“What are you doing here, Oakley?”

I shake my head, because now that I’ve finally gotten a moment to speak to him, I’m not sure what to say. Not sure where to start. “I…don’t know.”

His brow arches, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re really gonna keep lying to me?”

Fair point.

I wouldn’t blame him for not believing a thing to come out of my mouth ever again, so I might as well go all in with the truth. I’ve got nothing left to lose.

“I guess I was just worried.”

“Why?”

“Because I saw you at practice today.”

“You see me at practice every day,” he counters.

“Yeah, but today was different. You were on autopilot and—”

He scoffs. “And you’re worried it would translate into the games we’ve got coming up. Well, don’t worry your pretty little head on it, Reed. I’ll make sure I’m fully present when the time comes so you can win your stupid championship.”

The way he calls me by my last name might as well be a knife to the heart, but not nearly as much as the accusation he’s tossing at me.

“What? The championship? That’s the furthest thing from what I care about right now.”

“Then whatdoyou care about?”

“You! I fucking care about you, or I wouldn’t be here right now just to make sure you’re okay.”

He steps out into the hall, the door snicking closed behind him. “Tell me something, Oakley. Do I look okay?”

I take a second to look at him.Reallylook at him, and I hate what I see.

I noticed earlier this week he’s dropped some weight, having watched him adjust the fit of his pads before practice. Not a lot of weight, but enough to see his chest and shoulders don’t fill out his shirt the way they used to.

My gaze travels up, finding a vacant expression etched into his features, starting with his eyes. Ones that used to be full of light and fire, but now just look empty.

Hollow.

And I hate knowing I’m the reason. It cuts me to my core.

Which is why all I can do is shake my head.

“Well then, there you go. You got your answer. Now you can go,” he says, tossing his hand toward the elevator.

Defeat slams into me like a tidal wave, and it’s then I realize I might never get through to him. Might never have the chance to explain what he means to me, how much I care.

The extent I would go to make this right between us.

Which is why, though I know I should, I don’t make a move to leave like he’s telling me.

“I hope you know…I really am sorry. I didn’t know Braxton would take things as far as he did. If I did, I would’ve—”

Quinton’s fist slams against the wall behind him in frustration before he leans back against it. Two rows of perfect, white teeth gnaw at his bottom lip while he takes a deep breath, and I can tell he’s trying to rein in his temper.

Something that hasn’t taken control of him in quite some time now.

Then again, I’ve always been the person to make it burn the hottest.

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