Page 7 of Shattered Hate

“Is Bohdi’s stamina not what you thought, no?” I tease.

Brayden throws his head back, laughing, before flipping me off.

As we suit up, Coach walks in, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, team! We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today, so let’s make it count. Brayden, welcome back. Hope you didn’t lose your edge in London.”

“No way, Coach,” Brayden replies, determination etched on his face. There’s still a slight awkwardness between Coach and Brayden since everything that happened last year. I guess Coach finding out his best friend from when they were kids was fucking his nineteen-year-old star player didn’t go down well, and Coach still hasn’t let it go. It’s a shame because the connection and love between Bohdi and Brayden is clear to see. And that’s coming from someone who doesn’t believe in love.

As the team hits the ice, the familiar sound of skates cutting through the rink fills the air. Brayden takes a quick lap around, testing his legs after the two weeks off. Kal and I exchange a glance. I’ve missed this fucker.

“Hey, Bray, you sure you didn’t gain a few pounds of fat on that London trip?” I call out, my voice echoing through the rink.

Brayden laughs, shaking his head. “Only in your dreams, Tray. You’re just jealous I got to eat proper fish and chips.”

Kal chimes in, smirking. “Watch it, Trayton. Bray’s got that post-vacation energy. You’re in for a workout.”

“Bring it on,” I reply, grinning as I pick up speed. “I’m not the one who spent a week sipping tea.”

Brayden skates over and nudges me. “You’d love it there, Tray. All the posh accents and fancy buildings. Maybe you’d finally learn some manners.”

“Oh, I’ve got manners,” I retort. “I’m just saving them for when it really matters—like beating your ass in practice.”

The banter continues as we weave through drills, our competitive spirits pushing each other harder. Coach Denny keeps a watchful eye, occasionally yelling out pointers but mostly letting us drive each other.

At one point, Brayden and I race to the puck, our skates throwing up ice shavings as we battle for control. He manages to hook it away, flashing a triumphant grin.

“Still got it,” he boasts.

“For now,” I shoot back, panting slightly. “Just wait till the next drill.”

Kal skates over, joining. “Hope London didn’t make you soft, Bray. We’ve got games to win.”

“The Quake is back, boys, just you wait and see,” Brayden says, his eyes full of determination.

The rest of practice flies by in a blur of speed, laughter, and terrorizing each other. The bond between us growing stronger with every pass, every shot, every moment on the ice.

“Yo.” Cope strides over to me, Kal, and Bray once we’re back in the locker room, his expression a mix of excitement and unease. “Good to have you back.” Cope pulls Bray into a tight hug.

“Good to be back,” Bray replies, his smile lighting up his face. “You missing having the best roomy?”

Kal scoffs, and I can’t help but grin because we all know Cope is living his best life without Bray around.

“You’re fucking joking, ain’t ya, boy? I’ve never had so much uninterrupted sleep in my life. And it’s a relief not to wake up to random bare asses.” Laughter erupts around us, but Cope slaps Brayden on the back playfully. “Of course I miss you,” he adds softly, making Bray’s smile turn shy. Sometimes, I think Bray forgets how deeply he’s loved by so many. The guy is so pure it makes me wonder how I got so lucky to have him as not only a best friend but a fucking brother.

“On that note of roomies.” Cope scratches his head, a hint of tension in his voice. “I’ve got a new one.”

“Bad luck,” I retort. “We all knew the dean wasn’t going to let that room stay empty for long.” I glance at Kal, who’s gone rigid beside me at the mention of the new roomie. I squint my eyes at him and nudge him, but he just looks at me tight-lipped, then shifts his gaze to Brayden and finally to Cope.

“It’s Daxton Rivers,” Cope mumbles. The name hangs in the air like a thunderclap, and everyone’s eyes snap to me. Something inside me detonates with those three words.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream, my voice echoing with raw fury.

“Trayton,” Kal growls, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

“Shut up,” I spit out, my voice dripping with venom. “We’re not on the ice anymore,Cap.” I know he hates being called Cap by me and Bray. Kal is a born leader. That was always obvious from the moment I met him outside the ice rink when we were kids. He stormed up to me, even then, with that broody look in his eyes. For the first time in my life, I felt intimidated. He basically told me I was going to do drills with him. He barked orders at me the whole time, but I couldn’t help but follow every word that flowed from his mouth without hesitation.

Nowadays, that’s changed. You soon come to find, under that hard exterior, Kal is a fucking teddy bear who loves his friends more than life. So I just about listen to him on the ice. That’s as far as it goes.

“We’re in the fucking locker room, you dick,” he snaps, wrapping his hand in a firm grip on my shoulder. “Don’t start, Trayton.”

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