“Please don’t put me in a position where I have to choose, B.”

I stood up and put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. Slamming it shut a little harder than necessary, I turned back to her. “I’m not the one who’s doing that,” I said. “Your boyfriend is.”

12. I remember

CHAPTER 12

I REMEMBER

Chase

The week was well underway, and I hadn’t heard from Bailey yet. Maybe I never would.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?” Tyler asked, pulling on his black undershirt. We’d hardly seen each other since the game on Saturday. He had been practically living on campus, working overtime on a group project for one of his accounting classes. Unlike me, his dedication to high performance on the ice also extended to his grades.

“Who?” I fought a yawn. Breakfast skates were brutal. Six a.m. was too early to be awake, let alone on the ice.

“The girl from XS. James’s sister.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw you go up to her after the game, dumbass. Is that why you bailed on our place? And on meeting us at O’Connor’s?”

Avoiding his probing gaze, I grabbed my stick from the rack. It was trashed from the game on Saturday. I scraped it across the black rubber flooring near the doorway, removing any leftover tape residue from the bottom edge of the blade.

“Kind of.” I secured the black cloth tape to the heel of the blade and methodically wound it around, working over to the toe end. “It’s a long story.”

It really wasn’t. By the time I dropped Bailey off at home, it wasn’t even ten, and my friends were expecting me to meet them. But I wasn’t in the mood to get shit-faced at a pub while yelling to be heard over loud music. Maybe I was too sober to see the appeal. I got halfway there and made a detour for home instead, which marked the first time I’d stayed in on a Saturday in my entire college career. It wasn’t that bad, actually. And for once, I was in great shape for Sunday’s dryland training.

He smirked. “I bet.”

“Nah, not like that.” I ripped the tape off from the roll and rubbed the end down with my thumb so it laid flat against the blade.

“Why not? Couldn’t close?”

I shook my head, carefully smoothing the tape. “That wasn’t the point. We were hanging out as friends.”

“You. Friends with a chick.” He laughed, sliding a foot into one of his skates. “Right.”

“Why not?”

“Do you want the reasons in alphabetical or chronological order?”

“Hilarious.” I placed my stick back on the rack by the door. Sitting down on the bench, I grabbed my skates from my equipment bag and loosened the laces. “How was O’Connor’s, anyway?”