Page 36 of Major Penalty

“Look, Ares…I know you don’t want to let me down. I know you want to play. I trust you, and I trust your game. But I need you healthy. And this?” He shakes his head. “It’s not strength, kid. It’s reckless. I want you to go to Mathews or Irene and get it checked out, or I’ll be benching you until you do.”

“You’ll bench me either way.” My throat tightens at the sound of Irene’s name.

“I will.” He nods with a smile. “And you can cuss me out in your head all you want, but you know it’s for your own good.”

I hate these conversations. He, Rowan, and Damien are the only ones who get under my skin like this, the only ones who see the shit I don’t say.

“Just give me the game in Florida.” I pick up my stick, gripping it tight. “That’s all I ask. I’ll go do scans after.”

He studies me for a long moment, then nods once. “You’ll do the scans now. And if you’re unfit to play, you won’t play. We need you on the ice, Ares. But I also need you healthy, son.”

Something sharp lodges itself in my chest. Coach doesn’t say things like that often.

“Got it.” I swallow.

“Get that looked at,” he says, stepping back. “And don’t think I won’t be watching.”

“You always are.” I huff a quiet laugh.

“I am,” he mutters, shaking his head as he turns toward the locker room.

I stand there for a moment, watching him go.

Brown has always understood me. Even when I barely say a word, even when I don’t know how to say the things that matter, he just knows. He’s the closest thing to a father I’ve had. And that’s why, no matter what, I can’t let him down.

My hip is on fire. Every step sends a sharp, miserable ache up my side. Practice was brutal, and I pushed harder than I should have with playoffs around the corner. I should be giving myself a break.

But I needed to do something to stop thinking about her, but there she was, standing next to Coach Brown, her eyes following me, big and concerned.

Now, I’m walking toward the back exit. I usually work out at the Panthers’ gym, though I’ve been swapping it for my home gym ever since the kiss. The front doors are not an option, not if I want to keep my distance. Out of sight, out of mind. Soon enough, she’ll forget about me and move on to someone else.

Anger coils in my gut at the thought. A selfish, ego-driven truth I don’t want to acknowledge. It burns in my ribs, demanding I remind her of my name every time she closes her eyes. I want her thinking of me. Only me. I want to live in her head like she’s already taken over mine.

As much as I don’t want her to, she needs to let go. I’m already getting obsessed. And I’m not a good person to obsess over someone. I’m self-aware enough to know this, to know Irene should stay away from me. Because I’m walking on the edge, trying to step back, and every sight of her takes me an inch closer to plummeting to my obsession. And once I do, I will take her apart piece by piece until she forgets how to function without me. Until I forget how to function without her. I can already feel it happening. Everything new I notice or learn about this girl makes the pull stronger.

And that’s exactly why I need to keep walking, but a soft voice stops me in my tracks.

“Ares.” It’s breathy and cautious, but it hits me like a shot.

I turn, and there she is.

Irene is standing a few feet away, chest rising just a little too fast underneath her peach colored top. She looks like she ran to find me, to catch up to me.

My pulse kicks at the sight of her. I’ve missed talking to her; I’ve missed her sweet scent and her honey-brown eyes looking up at me.

I knew this was inevitable. I knew I’d have to face her eventually. But I’ve never been like this. I’ve never fucking avoided anyone in my life.

And yet, here I am. Looking at her now, all I can think about is how she tasted.

How she felt. How her kiss was clumsy but eager, messy but just as fucking hungry. And how that’s all I can give her. I want to be someone who can give her more. I want to be someone like Damien, someone light, someone who doesn’t feel things as deeply, who would make her light on her feet. Instead, I’ll just weigh her down until she inevitably leaves me, too, and I’m left alone and broken again. I don’t want to be broken anymore. There will come a day when she’ll snap out of it, where she’ll see I’m not worth the hassle, and she’ll give up on me.

She takes a step closer, and I clench my jaw.

She swallows, her fingers tightening around the hem of her unzipped hoodie.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft. Careful. Her full lips are pink like she’s been biting them. “I’ve been looking for you.” She’s staring at me like I’m someone she’s desperate to understand.

“You found me.” I exhale sharply, keeping my expression passive. I know I sound cold, detached. But I need to. Because if I don’t push her away, I’ll do something worse.

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