Page 15 of War

Add that to the long list of his annoying attributes.

Everyone loves him.

It baffles me. The guy can’t bother to show up on time and has done nothing but cause fights on the ice for the last few years—he’s more than earned the nickname War—yet Gavin named him captain this season. Not only that, but Brooks—who is one of the most down-to-earth, genuine people I’ve ever met—swears he’s one of the bestguys he knows. And the kids? They go crazy for him at every one of these events.

It makes no sense.

Aiden Langfield is the goofy nice guy who sings on the ice, and he’s a god on skates. So I get why everyone loves him.

War, on the other hand, isn’t even nice. He’s broody and has a chip on his shoulder. Why the hell is everyone so obsessed?

I know it sounds like I’m obsessed with him too, but I’m not. I’m just perplexed.

Gavin makes a big show of dropping the puck, and War goes straight for Aiden. Rather than kids versus Bolts, the teams are made up of equal numbers of both.

I cheer a little too loudly when Aiden breaks away, leaving War in the dust, then passes the puck to a kid who heads toward Brooks at a pretty decent speed.

Aiden stays by his side the entire way, protecting him from the kids on the opposing team who are trying to catch him. The other players, including War, hang back, giving him a chance. Because of the way they play things, it’s now the kid versus Brooks. Of course my money is on Brooks. He’s the best goalie in the league, after all. But to my surprise, Brooks practically divesoutof the way, allowing the puck to slide into the goal.

Beside me, Sara hums, the sound one of pride, and on the ice, the players on both teams cheer. War skates toward the kid at lightning speed and practically knocks him over with a hug like he normally gives Aiden or Daniel when they score.

Odd.

“God, I love this game,” Sara says beside me as I ignore the hint of warmth blooming in my chest.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I jump for it, hoping it’s the phone call I’ve been waiting for. I deflate a second later when I realize it’s just my boyfriend.

Xander: How long is this thing going to last? I’m starving.

I search the stands and spot him in the crowd before I respond. The Langfields are catering a dinner for all the kids and their families upstairs in the suites after the game. And while staff was invited, there was no mention of whether it was acceptable to bring plus-ones, so it feels wrong to invite my boyfriend along. I told him that, but he showed up anyway. He tends to do that any time the players will be in my proximity. As if he needs to be involved when his stepbrother is present. Why, I haven’t quite figured out. They hate each other, and outside of these events, they don’t talk. Thank god for that. If Xander had an actual relationship with Tyler Warren, I don’t think I could continue my relationship with him.

How I ended up dating a man who is even tangentially related to Tyler Warren, I’ll never know. The universe clearly has a sick sense of humor.

We’ve only been dating for about six months, but I think I can see a future with him. Honestly, his worst attribute is his relation to the bane of my existence. And his slight obsession with him.

Me: I’ll be stuck here for a few hours at least. Want me to meet you at your place?

Xander: Aren’t they having food at this thing?

Me: Yeah, for the kids and their families, but not until later.

“Oh my god. He’s going to score again,” Lennox yells.

I snap my head up just as the boy scores on Brooks a second time.

This celebration is similar to the first. All the Bolts players cheer and skate around him in celebration. But unlike the last time, War lifts the kid onto his shoulder, then he skates around the rink, hollering and grinning. The kid isn’t small, either. He’s got to be at least fourteen, and on skates, he’s probably taller than I am, but War doesn’t struggle in the slightest.

My cheeks heat at the sight. Embarrassed that Tyler Warren has any effect on me, I turn away. “I’m going to see if the families needanything,” I say to my friends as I shuffle in the other direction. The farther I can get from Tyler Warren, the better.

Just as I step away from the ice, my phone buzzes in my hand. This time, itisMaria. I practically float out of the arena and into the hallway. It’s a text notification, but I’m hopeful that she has finally gotten the okay from Josie’s mother for at least a FaceTime.

Once I’m alone and in the quiet hall, I unlock my phone to read the text. But the moment I do, my stomach tumbles.

Maria: Hey, can you stop by the hospital tonight? Josie and I are here.

FOUR

AVA

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