Page 24 of Boards & Betrayal

"Get it together," I muttered to myself.

I made my way to my bedroom, dropping my camera bag on the floor and collapsing onto the bed. The events of the night replayed in my mind—Thomas’s intensity, his touch, his words. Everything felt so raw and overwhelming.

As much as I wanted to forget about it all, I knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. The feelings were too real, too powerful to just push aside.

But for now, all I could do was close my eyes and hope that sleep would bring some semblance of peace.

Chapter 8

Tom

Iwatched Ally slip away, a bitter cocktail of anger, frustration, and longing churning inside me. Every muscle in my body tensed as I replayed our conversation, her accusations ringing in my ears. She thought I used her? The idea gnawed at me, made my blood boil. What the hell had Nick said to her?

Fuck.

The sound of applause yanked me back to the present. The award show was wrapping up. I grabbed my trophy with a clenched jaw and scanned the room for an escape route. I never wanted to come to this damn event in the first place, and now... now, I didn't know what the hell I wanted.

I ducked through a side door, hoping to avoid more small talk and questions from journalists. The hallway was mercifully empty, a sanctuary from the buzzing crowd inside. As I strode toward the exit, my mind kept circling back to Ally. Her eyes had been so full of hurt and accusation, and it killed me to see her like that.

What had happened between us was more than just a fling, at least for me. But seeing her tonight brought all those feelingsrushing back—the guilt, the longing, the need to protect her even if she didn't want my protection.

I shoved open the door to the parking lot and breathed in the cool night air. It did little to calm me down. My thoughts were a mess of tangled emotions—memories of that night we shared, the way she looked at me tonight, and Nick's face flashing in my mind like a warning sign.

I couldn't help but wonder if he had poisoned her against me somehow. It wouldn't be out of character for him; our relationship was already strained enough without dragging Ally into it.

I leaned against my car, staring at the trophy in my hand. It felt like a hollow victory. Winning awards meant nothing if I couldn't get my personal life together.

Damn it all.

I couldn't leave things like this. I needed to make it right, at least enough so she wouldn't think I was just some bastard using her. My mind raced as I got into my car, the engine roaring to life beneath me. The drive back to campus felt like a blur, the streetlights flashing by in a dizzying pattern that matched the chaos in my head.

When I finally parked outside the dorm building, I sat there, staring at it. What the hell was I doing here? Why her? Why did I even care? She was going to graduate in a few weeks, and then she'd be out of my life for good. So why couldn't I just let this go?

Why the fuck did I care after all this time?

It didn't make any sense.

I leaned back in my seat, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. The memories of our time together came flooding back—her laughter, the way she looked at me like I was more than just a failed hockey player or a tough coach. It had been different with her, real in a way that scared me.

But now... now she thought I used her, and that cut deeper than any injury I'd ever sustained on the ice.

I glanced up at the dorm building again, its windows glowing with the soft light of late-night studying or whatever college kids did these days. Ally was probably inside, maybe even still fuming from our earlier encounter.

I had no idea what I'd say to her if she came down. Or maybe I needed to go up. All I knew was that I needed to see her again, to explain myself somehow. Even if it changed nothing between us, even if she walked away and never looked back.

With a heavy sigh, I stepped out of the car and made my way to the entrance. The night air was crisp and biting, a stark contrast to the heat simmering inside me.

As I stood there, contemplating whether to go in or not, my mind kept replaying our last conversation—the hurt in her eyes, the accusations in her voice.

I couldn't leave it like that. Not with her.

I needed to make this right.

I slammedthe locker room door behind me, the echo of our defeat still ringing in my ears. Crestwood's first major loss, and against a team we should have steamrolled. My fists clenched involuntarily, and I could feel the veins in my neck bulging with frustration.

The text buzzed on my phone, pulling my attention from the awards ceremony’s cacophony.

Janet, again.

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