Page 71 of Faking It with the Forward

“Almost. Reid stopped me mid-swing.” I take a deep breath, maybe my first one since leaving the bar. “But I couldn’t. Letting my temper get the best of me would hurt the whole team.” I cup her face and wipe a tear off her cheek. “And it would bring up a lot of questions about why I was fighting with your ex that neither of us want to answer.”

“Thank you,” she says. “He’s just… god, he’s the fucking worst.”

I have a million questions. How did she end up with this prick? And why did it take her so long to get away from him? How does he still have such a hold on her? I don’t believe she still loves him. Not after hearing what he said about her. I don’t want to pry, but it feels like a weight holding her down.

“I’m hoping we scared him enough not to bother you anymore.” I press a kiss on the back of her neck. “But if you want to talk about it—him—I’m here because…” God, why does this feel so important to say? “I like you, Twyler. A lot. And I want to be here for you.”

She’s quiet for a long beat, and as her breathing evens out I’m sure she’s fallen asleep. But then she speaks out, voice quiet. “I haven’t told many people about my relationship with Ethan. Nadia and Ruby know, and mother has enough details that she worries about me. My dad was already gone when I got involved with him and he was probably the only one that I would’ve listened to.” Her heart pounds in her chest and I can feel it against my body. “I was vulnerable, and with a guy like Ethan, he probably saw me coming like a lamb to slaughter.”

I tighten my grip around her waist.

“I do have a therapist, and she helps, but even then, it’s a struggle to put it into words.”

“Take your time,” I tell her. “And only if you want to.”

She shifts, rolling to face me. We lie face to face, my hand shifts to her hip. Biting down on her bottom lip, she exhales and says, “Going to college wasn’t a given for me. Even before my dad died, my parents had been questioning if I was ready for the responsibility. I had a pretty bad track record of making not-so-great friends. According to my therapist I’m attracted to ‘toxic’ people.” She adds the finger quotes for effect and rolls her eyes.

“You’re not the first teenager to make stupid decisions in high school, babe.”

“These weren’t your standard adolescent dramas. My parents would have been thrilled if I’d been sneaking out and going to parties. That they knew how to deal with. But the depression and isolation,” her blue eyes flick to mine, “the self-harm. That freaked them out.”

The thought of her hurting so bad she’d inflict injury to herself… I just want to take that pain away. “I can see that they’d be overwhelmed.”

“But it did get better. I got help. I stopped the self-harm. I threw myself into the sports training at my school, and got my shit together academically. I got into Wittmore, but unfortunately one bad habit followed me to college. I just had some kind of radar for toxic people.” She looks up at me with those bright eyes. “You know, I met Ethan the first day I moved into the dorms. I was looking to shake off my past self and take some chances. In hindsight, I was incredibly vulnerable, reeling from my dad’s death and being in an unfamiliar place. Ethan probably picked up on that the instant he saw me.”

“Because he’s a goddamn predator,” I mutter.

“I thought he was edgy, and sexy with the piercings and tattoos. He wasn’t into sports or anything mainstream. Just the polar opposite of the jocks I spent all my time around in the program.”

“You mean hot, sexy, muscular guys with a dedication to their body and sport?”

That earns me the smallest flicker of a smile and a massive eye roll, and the tight spot in my chest loosens. “Smug, cocky, self-absorbed, testosterone-fueled jocks. Yes.” Her hand flattens against my abdomen, and I know she’s into my body even if it kills her to admit it. “Ethan was broody and struggled with his own bouts of depression. I felt like we understood one another and that maybe I could help him. Instead, I got tied into his personality pretty quickly. Everything revolved around his moods, his approval, his criticism… it became both important and impossible to meet his standards.”

“So he’s a pretentious dick.”

She laughs. “Pretty much.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “And he got off on making you feel like shit.”

“Apparently so.” Her entire body stiffens. “He hated the fact I was working with the athletic department, he called it ‘basic’ and tossed around all his theories about how institutions are just making a profit off the backs of student athletes—”

“He’s not entirely wrong about that,” I admit. It’s one reason strong players draft so early. We’re taking a risk every time we go on the ice. One college injury may end a career before it begins.

“—but,” she continues, “things really escalated when I got assigned by my program to intern with the hockey team.”

“Let me guess, he hates us the most?”

“You got it.” She smirks. “Hockey is just ‘sanctioned aggression.’”

“Does that mean if I kick his ass, they’ll look the other way?” I ask, regretting that I didn’t do it when I had the chance. “Because I can go pick up Axel and Reid and we’ll happily test that theory.”

She shakes her head. “It would only prove his point, that you’re just a bunch of aggressive cavemen.”

“I can live with that.”

“I’m sure you could.” She sighs. “I just lost sight of myself when I was dating him. I thought him being a dick was just ‘honesty,’ and the shitty way he commented on my hair or clothes, or body was just him being ‘real.’ Ruby hated him, and I thought she was just being controlling. My mom tried to straddle the line because she knew if she voiced her disapproval, I’d just dig in deeper.” Her eyes turn downward. “Ethan wasn’t content just being a controlling gaslighter. It got worse when we started having sex.”

My mind goes back to his comment about “breaking her in” for the team and that quick heat of anger comes back. I lift her chin until her eyes meet mine. “Tell me he didn’t force you.” Because Iwillmurder him.

---