Page 60 of One Touch

Something had shifted between us, but it wasn’t the blissful happiness I’d been feeling earlier this morning. No, this was pure dread, and I hated it.

* * *

The four days between games were not spent as I’d hoped—naked and in bed. After his meeting—where I learned that fucking asshole Toby had been present—Miller returned and tried to act as if everything was the same, but the easy air between us was gone. We were both more cautious and tip-toed around the other.

I hated it. Loathed it, actually.

We lost the next two home games, and I couldn’t help but take the blame. On the outside, everything was the same. We fucked. We kissed. We cuddled. We played hockey.

But inside, it was all wrong.

The safety and comfort that had existed evaporated and had been replaced with a more sinister energy. How long would he be okay with hiding this? How many events would he go to while I stayed home? Would it be enough if we could only be open around our friends?

The questions plagued me to the point that I wasn’t sleeping. My routine was off, and that meant my game was off, too.

“Get your head in the game,” Viggy shouted, slapping me on the helmet. “You’re acting like we already lost this game. The team needs you to show them we haven’t.”

I nodded. We were up by one goal with half a period left. We just had to keep our lead, and we’d turn this losing streak around.

Miller laughed at something Bell said, and I lost my focus. Does he like him? Would he rather be withhim?

I grimaced and shot daggers at Bell, not that he noticed. His eyes were glued to number five. Huffing, I turned and caught the flirty equipment manager handing Miller a stick. His fingers grazed Miller’s mitt as he released it, and I didn’t miss the suggestive look in his eyes. Thankfully, Miller was focused on the ice and not the asshat who dared to flirt with him in my presence, saving the man from meeting my fists.

Fuck. I couldn’t go around punching everyone who touched him. Though, at this moment, it felt like a solid solution.

“Stop it,” he whispered to me, knocking me on the side with his elbow.

“What?”

“You’re glaring.”

“This is my normal look.”

He laughed, and it felt like I’d won something. Miller shook his head, and I watched transfixed as the sweaty curls attempted to move off his forehead. When they got like that during sex, I’d run my fingers through them and smooth them off. God. I wanted to do that right now. My dick hardened in my cup, reminding me this was not the time.

Miller smirked and dropped his eyes to my crotch, and everything felt right with the word again.

“Line change,” Coach called, and we sprang into action. Five minutes to go, and we’d have a win. We just had to hold it for five minutes.

Luckily, the hockey gods were in our favor, and we won. The team celebrated in the locker room, and the talk of the Christmas party the next night floated around the room.

“Yo, Silver. You giving a speech?” someone shouted.

“Fuck that,” I grumbled, and everyone laughed, so I tossed the middle finger over my shoulder, garnering more laughter.

Once I gathered my belongings, I turned and looked for Miller, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. Bell was still at his cubby, so I stalked over there.

“Where’s Miller?”

His head was bent over his phone, and upon my arrival, he quickly hid it from view. His face blanched when he spotted me towering over him.

“Hm?”

“Miller. Did he leave?”

“Oh.” He turned to look around him. “I guess.”

Growling, I stalked off. This was why I didn’t talk to people. I searched the weight room, training room, and equipment office, but he wasn’t there. I pulled out my phone to see if he’d texted, but there was nothing from him. Shooting one off, I begrudgingly headed for the exit. If he didn’t want to ride home together, fine. He could find his own ride.

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