Page 9 of Love and Defects 1
I loved being on the ice, and this was my future. If I wanted it, I had to fight for it.
Sterling’s snore met my ears, and I quietly chuckled before I rolled out of bed, planting my feet on the comfy rug between our beds. When we’d been partnered up freshman year as dorm-mates, I’d come with the bare necessities—clothes, laptop, school books, and bed sheets. Then, Sterling had shown up with all kinds of shit—this fuzzy rug, lamps, two laptops (one to remain in the dorm and one to carry to classes), a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a toaster.
His mom had spoiled the hell out of us, and I was proud to say she considered me to be her other son. I didn’t take that kind of welcome lightly, especially when I knew just how cautious Sterling’s parents were about letting people in. For them, Sterling always came first, and if someone didn’t check off certain points in their books, then they were just kind of kept at arm’s length.
I’d, thankfully, passed all of their little tests without even knowing they had any.
Moving quietly, I grabbed a pair of socks and slipped them on my feet before tugging a shirt over my head. After grabbing a hoodie and tugging it on over my t-shirt, I grabbed my bag, shoved my feet into my shoes, and quietly slipped out of the dorm room, already thinking about where Sterling and I could go for breakfast after practice.
Sue me—I was hungry. And Sterling’s mom and dad always made sure Sterling had more than enough money for us to eat at places other than what was served on campus because they knew how Sterling’s eating habits were.
Again—they spoiled the hell out of us. It’d been hard to get used to at first, but I’d finally come around. And I knew my parents were more than thankful that I was getting to experience other things, even if they couldn’t be the ones to provide it for me.
Coach’s whistle blew, signaling a break so we could hydrate. Despite the cooler temperature of the arena, I was sweating, as were most of my other teammates. Collin was one of the lucky few who hardly ever sweated unless a game was particularly grueling.
“You good, man?” Collin asked, clapping his hand to my back as I poured water into my mouth.
I looked over at him, lowering my water bottle as I did so. A frown tugged at my lips. “Yeah, I’m good,” I assured him. “Why?”
“You’ve been kind of quiet. Not normally like you.”
I had a lot on my mind—particularly the man still sleeping in my bed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him—how he was now my boyfriend, which was surreal in itself, that he’d kissed me even if I’d sort of initiated it to begin with, how he’d allowed me to touch him and hold him while he had so much turmoil inside of him last night.
That last one was a huge step of progress. Even now, my throat tightened at how much that meant to me. It meant he trusted me more than he trusted anyone else in the world—even his own parents because he still wouldn’t let them touch him when he woke up from nightmares and flashbacks.
I knew how fragile that trust was, and I also knew how easily it could be broken.
“Just thinking about some stuff,” I told him. “Nothing to worry about, man. My head is still one hundred percent in the game.”
“Probably more up Sterling’s ass,” Darren muttered. I didn’t think he meant for me to hear it, but I did regardless. I swung my glare to him, and Collin quickly put a hand against my chest.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warned him.
“Not today,” Collin said just as another teammate stepped in front of Darren, saying something to him I couldn’t quite make out. “Let it go. He’s bitter as fuck. That’s it. Let him stew in his own shit.”
I rolled my shoulders and stiffly nodded my head. But if Darren thought he could continue to be funny, I’d show him I was fucking hilarious.
I could take any other shit. I could let just about anything else roll off my shoulders if I really wanted. But not when it came to Sterling.
I’d start a fucking war over my man.
“Bro,” Dash, one of my teammates, said quietly as he quickly made his way over to where I was pulling my shirt over my head. I was more than ready to get back to the dorm and go get breakfast with Sterling. I’d already showered after practice because there was no way in hell I was taking the short ride back to our dorm building with my sweat clinging to my skin. That was just fucking gross. Besides, it meant that once I saw Sterling, I didn’t have to let him out of my sight again to shower.
“Yeah?” I asked, turning to face him.
My impatience must have shown on my face because he winced. “Look, I know you like to get out of here as quickly as possible to go get breakfast with Sterling, but you need to see this.”
Oh, this couldn’t be good. My gut told me so, and it was hardly ever wrong. And I also had a feeling it had to do with Sterling. Because if it was about me, they’d have been ribbing me over it.
Dash held his phone out to me, and I took it, glancing down at the social media post. My teeth audibly ground together when I saw the picture of Sterling. He was shirtless, sweat clinging to his skin as he ran on a treadmill. I could see rain sliding down the window behind him, so it hadn’t been taken today. And right next to that picture, someone had posted another picture that was zeroed in on his crotch. The caption read, When you can’t get your dick up.
Snarling, I pushed past Dash, shoving his phone against his chest as I did so. Darren was closing his locker when I walked up to him. Gripping the back of his neck, I shoved him against it, my muscles bulging with the urge to bash his skull into the metal.
“Did you fucking do that shit?” I barked, tightening my hold when he tried to push back. “You post that bullshit on social media about Sterling?”
“What? No!” he shouted. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Graham! Fucking let go of me, dammit!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I yelled at him. Our teammates were trying to tug me back, but it was a fruitless cause. “I know it was you! You just had to go running your mouth and starting fucking rumors!”
