Page 5 of Wrap Around
“Just a fluke, I guess,” I mutter, shrugging like I’m not the one screwing it up on purpose.
I don’t think Coach buys it. Not when Silas is out here doing everything right, and I’m the one throwing it off, hoping he’ll see the mismatch and split us up.
I want to play. I want to win. But not like this. Not with him.
Not when every second on the ice with Silas feels like a fuse burning down.
When the drills finally wrap, Coach waves off the others with a nod towards the showers, but gestures for me and Silas to stay behind. “You two, hang back.”
He waits until the ice is mostly cleared before he speaks. “You think I’m blind out there?” he says. “You’ve got chemistry. I saw it in the first five minutes. And I’m not tossing that just because one of you has his head up his ass.”
Silas says nothing. Neither do I.
“You need to figure your shit out,” Coach snaps. “Because if I have to pick which one of you gets reassigned, it won’t be based on seniority. It'll be based on who’s showing up to play.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before turning around and walking towards the tunnel. We follow after a beat, neither of us speaking as we head towards the locker room. The hallway is quiet.Everyone else is already inside, done with their post-practice routines.
By the time we make it to the showers, most of the team has already finished. There are only a few guys lingering, and the steam is thick in the room. It clings to everything. The tile, the air, my lungs. I can't pull in a full breath.
I hear the water hit his skin before I see him. Once I do, I can’t unsee him. He’s less than twenty feet away, naked as the day he was born, back to me, head tilted under the spray like he isn't being eaten alive by the same torment.Fucking asshole.
The humidity makes everything worse. It feels like his presence is wrapping around my throat the same way I want to wrap my hands around his and squeeze. I'm dizzy from the heat, from not being able to breathe, from the memory of his mouth on mine.Fuck.
"You good, Shep?"
"I'm fine," I snap, sharper than I mean to.
Brent flinches, then walks away.
I close my eyes, shame twisting in my chest. This isn't me. I've never been so quick-tempered.
I'm the quiet, unflappable one. I'm known for keeping my chill, for never letting the other side get to me. Even the reporters that stay back after games or hang around the practice arena never got under my skin, with all their bullshit about "the Shepherd who left his flock" and the never-ending inquisition about why I left home and never talk about anything. I've never once spoken to the media, and Coach knows better than to put me up for any interviews.
I've always been polite and professional. Other than leading the team in a quiet prayer before each game, I don’t talk much. I’mthe guy who shows up first and leaves last. The guy who works harder than anyone and keeps his head down, just grateful to still be playing.
But nowheis standing in the same goddamn shower room, and I can't breathe.
He ruined everything.He wrecked me.
And no matter how far I ran, how much I gave to this game, how hard I tried to erase the past... He's still here.
And it's making me crazy.
CHAPTER 3
SILAS
I knew training camp would be tough, but I never thought I'd struggle this much to get through it without losing my mind.
Fit in. Show up. Keep my head down. Earn my place.
That's all I have to do. Or at least that's what I tell myself every morning when I lace up my skates for the warmup. And then I walk into the locker room, where Gideon, or "Shep" as the rest of the team calls him, won't so much as look at me.
Everyone on the team seems unsettled with their teammate’s aversion to me, and because of that I haven’t made too many friends yet. But that’s okay. I just got there. I have to prove myself. To the coach, to the team. To him.
Our first preseason game is this Sunday in Seattle. My first game playing for a real-life professional hockey team. And a farm team for the NHL at that.I fucking made it.Against all odds, I’ve found myself on sanctioned ice. I should be focused on that. I should be focusing on impressing the coaches, making good plays, and proving I deserve to be here. But all I can think about is the silent fury two lockers down from mine.
I was prepared for the cold shoulder, but I didn’t expect to be thrust right in front of him quite this much. Making him uncomfortable wasn’t ever the plan. Hell, I don’t know that there really was a plan. Or if there was, it got knocked right out of my head the moment I laid eyes on Gideon.
