Page 44 of Goalie's Obsession

He ignores me. Keeps pacing like he doesn’t know whether to sit down or throw something.

“You want water or something before you start throwing punches?”

His laugh is short. Bitter. “Thought about it. Not gonna lie.”

“Thought about which? The hydration or the homicide?" He glares at me as I hold my hands up. "Sorry, man. Just trying to decide if I should duck… or grab a Gatorade.”

He glares at me. “You think this is funny?”

I drop the sarcasm. “No. I think it’s fucking weird. It's been weird since the moment you got back here.”

He stares me down. Jaw clenched as he steadies yet another sway on his feet. “You’ve been circling her for years, haven’t you?”

That comment makes me pause.

“I—what?”

“You think I didn’t notice? Back when you first got to Iron Ridge. When you used to crash at our place, always hanging around, always finding some excuse to be in the same room as her.”

I move toward the kitchen and open the fridge. Slowly. Calmly. “We were just teenagers, Ethan.”

“Yeah. And now she’s not. And you’re all over her like you’ve been waiting for the green light.”

“I didn’t touch her then. And even if I did—”

“Don’t.”

I toss a bottle of water at him. He misses the catch and it thuds to the floor and rolls under the counter.

“Listen, man. I’m not gonna stand here and defend myself to a drunk asshole who vanished for two years and now suddenly gives a damn.”

He spins on me. “I left because I had to!”

“Yeah? You had to cut off your best friend too? Just like you did everyone else because you finally got the money your parents wouldn't give you?”

His jaw flexes. “You think I had the luxury of keeping everyone close when I was trying to rebuild my entire goddamn life?”

“Funny,” I mutter. “From where I stood, it looked like you were enjoying all the yachts and champagne.”

He flinches. And that blow to his inflated fucking ego lands hard.

“You don't get it,” he snaps. “None of you ever did. I was trying to outrun everything Iron Ridge ever fucking meant. The expectations. The image.You.”

“Me?”

“Yes! You! You were everything I couldn’t be. Team captain. Fan favorite. Staying behind like some local fucking hero while I was clawing my way out.”

“So that's why you stopped answering my calls?”

Ethan doesn’t respond.

I nod slowly and shake my head at the disaster piece falling apart right in front of me. “Yeah. Thought so.”

Silence stretches. His breathing’s uneven now. His hands curl at his sides like they want to break something.

“She doesn’t know,” he says, quieter now. “Not about the company. Not about the investors. Not about what I’m covering up to keep our parents from going bankrupt or ruining mom's precious reputation.”

I stare.

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