Page 109 of Iced Out

Not realizing I was being played for a fucking fool this entire time.

“He’s your best friend…and I’m your rival. Your enemy. The only thing standing in your way of being captain. The pain in your ass teammate you can’t stand to be around.”

I roll my tongue along the inside of my cheek and silently beg my temper to stay under control. Beg for a break in the anger so I can breathe through the pain shattering my entire body from his betrayal.

But that’s the thing. It wasn’t a betrayal to him.

It was all part of a plan.

“What, was he in on all of it?” I ask, allowing the lies and deceit to sink in deeper. “Is he the reason you changed your mind about this whole fucking thing—you, me, the hook-ups?”

Is he the reason I made the mistake of falling in love with you?

“No, Quinn. I wouldn’t ever…” He trails off, shaking his head frantically. “Just no. I kept my word with the rules. No one knows.”

“Kept your word,” I repeat with a scoff. “Well, I’m glad to know some things are sacred at least. Just not hockey, apparently. Which is hilarious, all things considered.”

I bare my teeth at him, the agony ripping me apart from the inside out. It cuts and slices through me, making it nearly impossible to breathe, until I’m left suffocating and bleeding out on the floor at his feet.

“But then again, you wanted to set yourself apart from Coach and your dad, right? Well, congratulations. You did it, Oak,” I snarl, ice dripping from my words. “Because neither of them would’ve ever dreamed of pulling the shit you have. You should be proud of yourself.”

The words crack and shatter as they leave my lips right along with my heart while I spew venom and hatred at him, desperately trying to hurt him the same way he’s hurt me. Dig blades into his heart, knives into his soul, and watch him bleed like I am.

But the problem about loving the very thing you hate is it destroys you to hurt it in return.

And as my words sink in past his armor, I feel every slash and wound like it’s my own skin they’re seeping into.

“I can’t believe I was actually allowing myself to fa—” I cut the words off when they start to crack with more truths. Ones he doesn’t deserve to hear.

Calamity stains my voice until it no longer sounds like my own, and the words rip from my throat with palpable amounts of anguish.

“But that’s just it, right? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

His eyes sink closed. “I’m sorry, Quinn. Please, just hear me out. I’m so sorry.”

That’s all he keeps saying. Those two words—I’m sorry—like they have any fucking meaning anymore.

My teeth sink into the fleshy inside of my cheek until I taste copper, all the while counting backward from ten.

Then twenty.

Then fifty.

Because as pissed as I am right now, I have no interest in decking him for this. I’d rather him have to live with the repercussions, wishing I’d beat him to a pulp for it instead.

And it works. A cool, calm wave washes over me, if only for the briefest moment. Enough for self-preservation to kick in, forcing my body to move on autopilot. I turn my back to him, grabbing my jeans where they lay on the floor and shoving my legs through them.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” I bite back at him, finding my socks and shirt next. But it’s damn hard when my heart is struggling to beat in my chest, thanks to him shredding it to pieces.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

A sardonic laugh slips past my lips as I slip into my shoes and socks. “What you want isn’t really high on my priority list right now, Oak. Not anymore.”

He remains silent, thank God, as he watches me continue to redress, throwing my shirt and hoodie over my head. His eyes burn me, even through the clothes, it takes everything in me not to look at him. Because I know the moment I do, there’s a very real possibility my resolve might slip, and I might hear him out.

But I’m not in the mood to listen to any more of his lies.

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