Page 83 of Treacherous
The boys smile, matching my enthusiasm. However, it doesn’t last with silence filling the room. Aiden and Hayes share a look, and I fear I know where this conversation is going.
“So…” Aiden says, dragging out the word. “Are you going to talk about what happened?”
I clench my teeth, nearly biting my tongue in the process. My fingers grip the knife tighter, my chest constricting. Aiden doesn’t have to say his name. I will break down crying if I hear it.
“Don’t. I can’t…” I swallow, holding back the sob, trying to break free.
Aiden holds his hands up in defence. “Hey, just asking.”
I divert my eyes to my plate and fill my mouth with food. The silence is constricting, my skin flaring from the not-so-secret glances the others are trying to take.
Anxiety swarms inside me, rising into my throat. I can’t be here anymore, everything is too much–it’s like I’m suffocating. Is this my karma for being an awful person?
I eat the rest of my dinner quickly. I’ve never cleaned dishes faster than this moment before heading to the stairs. I stand at the bottom, pausing as the front door handle twists open.
Jayden stills at the sight of me. I made the mistake of looking directly into his eyes. They are red and puffy, bags remaining under his eyes. Fuck me. I did that to him. I urge to reach out, but instead, I sprint up the stairs like a fucking coward.
Shutting my bedroom door, I slide down, colliding with the cold, wooden floor. A tear slips down my cheeks, followed by choked sobs. Fuck. I clutch my trembling hands, but that doesn’t stop them. Every part of me aches, yet my throbbing heart has it the worst.
It has been one day and I miss him already.
What have I done?
Chapter 32
Jayden Allen
Colin Crown Arena is alive–the home team’s fans have come out in full force, filling every seat, while their voices bounce off the walls.
An energy rush flowed through me when we hit the ice for warmups, everything that I have worked for, that the team has worked for, comes down to the results over the next month.
Hockey has been my sole focus for the past two weeks because otherwise the only thought on my mind would be Willow Rogers and how the fuck I can win her back.
I want to show her that I’m not like the boys in her past; my love for her isn’t based on conditions that she must meet.
I give Willow my love because she is all I’ve ever wanted, even when I was being a fucking idiot. I love that she isunapologetically loud, and she doesn’t try to dim her fire because others can’t handle it.
Jaz said I need to give Willow space, so she can acknowledge her past, and I tend to agree. But that doesn’t mean I fucking like it.
All I want to do is touch her, talk to her about anything–honestly, I would take a conversation about the weather at this point.
“Allen,”
Coach West calls me to our bench, where two middle-aged women are standing beside him. Their brown hair is slicked back into a bun, and both are wearing hot pink suits, not caring about the stares they are receiving.
“Jayden,” Coach says, patting me on the shoulder. “These are the scouts I told you about in January.”
My eyes widen in recognition. I stick out my hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jayden Allen.”
The women offer a tight-lipped smile but accepts my handshake.
“Lions recruit for next season. We know who you are. I’m Sarah, and this is Logan.”
“Really?” I’m taken aback, but recover quickly. “So, who are you affiliated with?”
A smirk curves on Sarah’s lips. “The LA Lions, but we aren’t just scouts. We will play for the PWHL team as well.”
I suck in a breath, my chest constricting. There is a chance Willow is moving to Los Angeles next year. Fuck me.
