Page 83 of Slash & Burn

“Well, I mean, you’re the fastest guy on the team on a bad day. So, even if you’re not one hundred percent, Blaise would be a fool to sit you out. And if you’re playing, you’re captain, there’s just no other conclusion that makes sense.”

I didn’t think he meant to, but Grady’s fingers flinched, his jaw working as he tried to hold his father’s gaze.

“We’ll have to wait and see. The vote happens the week of training camp. So, it’s anybody’s guess at this point.”

His father’s dramatic exhale was so loud it startled Lexi beside him. “Who else could they possibly pick?”

When he raised up his hand, looking from one face to the next as if asking any of us to offer a different name, an uncomfortable sense of unease knotted in my gut. He pinned Grady with a stare that I was sure was meant to be confident and encouraging, but looked more menacing than anything.

“You’re the only one who’s done the work, Grady,” he said, sighing back, smug satisfaction on his face. “This is your time. You’ll see.”

Grady nodded, offering his dad the fake smile I’d seen him wear at events and around press the whole summer. Warmth never reached his eyes and I wished there was something I could do besides hold his hand. He glanced over at me, his grip tightening when he saw my concern. And then he winked, silently telling me he was okay. Even though I was pretty sure he knew I didn’t believe him.

CHAPTER 32

GRADY

Jill had been so excited to get me out there, with my folks, on the island where I’d spent so many good summers. It stung to see that enthusiasm drain out of her.

No, getsuckedout of her, by my father’s single-pointed obsession.

But it wasn’t justhisobsession. We’d shared the goal of captain since I’d put on my first pair of skates, since I’d picked up my first hockey stick.

After dinner we sat around the living room, listening to Lexi regale us with stories from her physical therapy internship. Jill’s eyes had gone wide more than once and I had to keep reminding everyone she hadn’t been an athlete; for her, it wasn’t quite as easy to understand why someone would want to put themselves through Lexi’s torture just to get back to the sport they loved.

No one questioned how much torture I’d endure for hockey. Not even Jill. Because we all knew there was no limit. Whether that was a good thing or not, it was the truth.

“Come on,” I said to her, eyeing the clock. “We’ve got time for a little island tour before we have to catch our ferry.”

Jill’s eyes lit up, and the sight of it hit me straight in the chest. It had gotten to the point where I was okay if she was okay, and the other way around seemed just as true. After a day with my family, I thought we could both use a little time to ourselves.

“The keys are on the hook,” my mom called with a smirk on her face as I led Jill toward the side door.

“Keys to what?” she asked as we popped out onto the gravel driveway.

“To this bad boy,” I said, pointing to a pumpkin orange golf cart.

Jill shook her head, her smile wide in the spotlight off the porch. “Seriously?”

“Hop in, hot stuff.” We had plenty of time, but I was eager to get some space between me and the mountain of expectations on the other side of that door.

Jill climbed in beside me and I turned the key, the loud, long tone was the only sound as I backed it out onto the road.

“I’ve never ridden in a golf cart,” she said, wiggling closer to me on the bench seat as she took a hold of the handle in front of her.

“You’re in for a real treat then,” I joked, feeling like I might have built this experience up a little too much. But the minute we got going, the sand crunching beneath the tires of the nearly silent cart, and the wind in Jill’s hair, I changed my mind. This was exactly the kind of moment I was looking for.

“The stars,” she sighed, leaning to look out the front of the cart.

“Pretty great, right?”

She looked back at me, her eyes gleaming. “It’s gorgeous, Grady.”

No.Shewas gorgeous. Everything about her was more beautiful, more inspiring, more impossibly alluring the more time I spent with her. I was never sure of what she was going to say or do, but I knew it would make me laugh, or smile, or think like I never had before.

Even that night, shucking corn beside me as my mother went on about island gossip, Jill had taken it all in. I knew she’d think she was awkward or too quiet or some other messed up criticism she’d gotten from Asshole or society or god knows where. But she’d been exactly what I needed. In that moment, she’d been the one thing I knew I could rely on. And I realized that maybe in my whole life, I’d never had that. Not really.

My family loved me. I didn’t doubt that. But it was different. I’d kept so much from them over the years. But I’d kept next to nothing from Jill. And in a matter of weeks she’d shown me who she was, while letting me be the most honest version of myself I’d ever shared with anyone.

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