Page 87 of Daring the Defender

The vagueness of his accusation is a joke. There was only one defender fucking it up out there. Number eight, Wilder.

“You show up to the game against Milton on Saturday with that kind of performance, we may as well hand that trophy over right now.” I feel the heat of his gaze on me, and I look up, forcing myself to meet it. “What I saw out there tonight wasn’t what champions look like. Not even close.”

He storms out of the room, and the other coaches and trainers follow, leaving us in silence. There’s nothing worse than getting put on blast by the coach, but even worse after a win, because that means we didn’t earn it. And that sucks.

Taking a deep breath, I stand up, wincing at the pain in my side. “This one is on me,” I say. “That penalty came at a critical point. I was pissed at the hit, but I was slow getting back to the box in the first place. My head wasn’t in the game.”

It hasn’t been anywhere productive in the last few days.

“It’s not your fault, dude. McMaster slammed the shit out of you.”

“He’s lucky they got him off the ice before I got down there,” Axel says, obviously still pissed. “That was a bullshit call.”

It wasn’t and we all know it, but what’s done is done. “Anyway, I’ll take the heat for that one, and I promise to have my head on straight by Saturday.”

Because they’re good guys and I have way more good games than bad, they seem to believe me. Still, I wait and let the other guys shower before me, and then I let the spray rain down on me for as long as the water stays warm. My entire body aches, and it’s not just from the bruise. I’ve felt like this for days–ever since she left.

When I come out, thankfully, the locker room is empty. Hopefully the fans will be gone outside too.

The bruise helps make me take my time, the tissue soft and painful. I’m moving slowly down the hall when I hear voices in the training room. Peering in, I see Reese up on the table, while Twyler fusses with his wrist. “See? This is why I don’t trust anyone else with your body but me. This wrap is shit.”

He laughs with amusement at his overprotective girlfriend, then leans in to steal a kiss. A flicker of jealousy twists in my chest. These two are an odd match, but also perfect in their own weird way. I’m glad they found one another, but I can’t help but want that for myself. No games. No pretense. Just true love.

Twyler had pushed up on her toes to return the kiss, but when she drops back down her eyes open and that’s when she spots me.

“Reid,” she exhales, “Jesus.”

Reese shakes his head, probably more annoyed at being interrupted than anything else.

“Sorry” I apologize, not intending to be a voyeur. “I was just heading out. Thought I was the only one left.”

As I lean my forearm against the door frame, Twyler tracks my movements.

“Come here,” she demands. “Let me check that bruise.”

Reese slides off the table, making room for me to hop on. It hurts too fucking much, so I prop my hip against it instead, setting down the ice pack and lift my shirt.

“Yikes,” she says, eyeing the spot that has already started to purple. “This is pretty gnarly.”

“It’s fine.”

She rolls her eyes and presses her fingers against the bruising. I wince and tell her, “Coach Green already checked for any broken ribs or other problems. He said to ice it and rest.”

She grunts, and turns to her kit, fishing around for something.

“So you want to tell us what’s really going on?” Reese asks. “Why the bad attitude and quick temper?”

“Nothing. It’s just been a shit week.” He doesn’t look convinced so I try again. “I think the pressure is getting to me. You know how it is.”

I catch Twyler frown, but she just plucks a tube out of the kit and turns back to me.

“Did you end things with the new girl?” Reese asks.

You could say that. All Axel could say is that she got home safe. Otherwise, none of us have heard a word from her. I could reach out to her–should–but I’m the one that told her to go.

“What new girl?” Twyler asks, eyes moving slowly from me to her boyfriend.

“Nah. That wasn’t a big deal anyway.” I ignore Twyler’s question completely. “I’m just busy with classes and the design project for the athletic department. Too much shit coming up all at once.”

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