Page 44 of Twisted Play
Coach’s eyes narrowed. “Something to add, Carter?”
“No, sir.” But Cole didn’t leave. He just straddled one of the benches and waited, as if he owned the fucking arena, and it was his right to watch Coach dress me down.
Coach turned back to me. “You’re distracted, Baptiste, and it’s going to cost you.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. Did he know about Eva? About the library? About how I couldn’t stop thinking about both Eva and Cole since he’d made that comment about world domination last night?
The worst part was that Coach was right. I had one shot at this—one chance to make sure my family never had to choose between paying bills and buying hockey gear again. One chance to pay back my brother for giving up his owndreams to support mine. One chance to prove all their sacrifices were worth it.
“I don’t know what you?—”
“Don’t insult my intelligence.” Coach stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the small office. “You have one shot at this. One. Don’t fuck it up for a piece of ass.”
Fury surged through me at his dismissal of Eva, warring with the sickening knowledge that he was right about my distraction. “She’s not?—”
“Tristan,” Cole interrupted, his voice soft but intense. “Thank Coach for his instructions, and let’s go the fuck home.”
I looked between them—Coach radiating authority, Cole watching with dangerous interest—and felt caught in an undertow I didn’t understand.
My brother’s words from the summer echoed in my head.“Don’t let anything get between you and your dreams, little brother, not after everything we’ve sacrificed to get you here.”
Shame burned in my gut. “Are we done?” I managed to ask.
Coach held my gaze. “For now. Get out.”
I pushed past Cole, our shoulders brushing in the doorway. The contact sent electricity skittering across my skin, but Cole didn’t seem to notice.
I shoved down my desire for my best friend into a dark pit. He wasn’t interested, and I needed to respect that.Like I’d respected Eva’s disinterest?I ignored the voice in the back of my head, telling myself Eva was different.
Outside the locker room, Eva waited, calm, cool, and collected, but when I took her hand, the half-moons her nails had dug into her palms revealed her worry.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
Before I could answer, Coach’s voice carried from his office. “Ms. Jackson. Coffee.”
Eva’s face went blank, that familiar mask sliding into place. Without a word, she turned and walked away, leaving me with more questions than answers and an ache in my chest I didn’t know how to handle.
Fuck. I was in so much trouble.
18
COLE
My father’swords from that morning rang in my ears as I laced up my skates.
“When are you going to be over this phase? You’re betraying everything I’ve worked for. Worthless.”
“Come work for me instead of wasting time on that stupid, classless hobby. Before you become entirely useless to the family and our legacy.”
As if playing a pro-sport wasn’t worth anything. As if having an income outside of the allowance I got because I couldn’t access my trust fund yet was something to be ashamed of.
“Come home, son. Your mother misses you.”
That was a lie. My mother hadn’t cared about me since she finished nursing me and handed me off to a nanny. She sure as fuck hadn’t spoken to me outside of required visits home for years.
It’d been a long time since I’d stopped wondering if she had always been like that or become that way because she was stuck in an abusive marriage with my father.
He didn’t lay a hand on her—he didn’t have to. Shedidn’t have a fucking penny of her own, and the moment she stepped out of the rigid box he’d drawn for her, she’d lose everything.
