Page 60 of Bite Your Tongue

“I kind of hate you right now,” I utter through gritted teeth.

Reaching forward, she pats my arm. “No, you don’t.”

She’s right, but I’m not ready to see Ryder yet.

Actually, I don’t know if I ever will be.

Just like he did after the first period was over, Coach finishes hollering at us and storms off. Normally, this team is no match for us, but tonight? We’re down by one, and we’ve made more stupid mistakes than I can count.

“What the fuck are you doing out there, man?” Kolt utters, taking a seat on the bench next to me. “Your head is so far up your fucking ass that I think you might like the smell of shit.”

“Whatever,” I say, barely loud enough to be heard.

I don’t even look at him. I just stare at the floor. He’s right; I fucking suck today. I’ve been off for weeks, but knowing that Saylor is here, in the crowd, and yet refuses to talk to me is fucking me up something awful, and it’s showing because I’m playing like trash. I’ve looked up at her a few times, and I hardly even knew it was her because her hair is dark now. She looks good, but I love her natural hair.

I’ve had sex with a lot of women. Back in my high school days, I even had a few long-term girlfriends, but no one has ever had the ability to get into my head and fuck up my day the way Saylor has.

“He’s right, man,” Smith says behind me. “What’s going on?”

He’s the last person I should be talking to. I feel guilty because I’m keeping shit from my best friend, and now it’s affecting my game. I’m a fucking professional athlete; I can’t let shit like a girl ghosting me get in the way of my performance. Yet … I’m doing it anyway.

“I’m just … having an off day,” I mumble. “I’ll do better in this last period.”

Smith must give Kolt an idea of what’s going on or something because after a moment, Kolt smacks my back and gets up before sauntering away. A second later, Smith takes the seat next to me, facing the opposite direction.

“This have anything to do with my sister?” he says with little to no emotion in his tone.

I shift around slightly, not even wanting to answer him because we’re already sucking ass with just my head not being in this game. If I dump this shit on Smith minutes before we go back out, he’ll be distracted out there too. We need him.

“Why would you think that?”

I keep my eyes forward, and Smith’s shoulder presses to mine.

“Because it all sort of clicked a few days ago. First, you asked me about Saylor at that going-away party. And then you admitted you had a thing for her.” He pauses. “Saw a few things on the internet of you with some mystery girl, and when I looked harder, she sort of looked like my sister. Oh, and a few weeks ago, you kept disappearing. One night, I checked your Snap, and you were in New York City.” He sighs. “Same night Sails was there too.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Smith. I know you didn’t want anyone on the team dating her after that shit happened with Rowan being a dick to her and all. I wasn’t trying to overcomplicate shit, yet here I am, fucking doing just that.”

My best friend is silent, and I know the clock is running out. There’s not much time until we have to be back on the ice.

“So, what happened then? I mean, she’s here, isn’t she?”

“I don’t know what happened,” I tell him honestly. “We were good. I thought we were going to give it a try and talk to youabout everything. Then, she just stopped responding to me.” My head dips down. “I mean, she fucking ghosted me—hard.”

“That doesn’t sound like Saylor,” he says in an almost-amused tone that irks me.

When my eyes fly to his, he holds his hands up. “I’m not saying you’re lying, Ry. I just think, you know … she’s here. You probably should try talking to her after the game.” He shrugs, the corner of his lips turning up. “But sucking absolute donkey dick and costing us this win in front of her? Probably not the best way to get her attention, my friend.”

“You aren’t mad?” I whisper roughly, surprised by his lighthearted tone.

“Ry, here’s the thing: I can’t stop Saylor from doing what she does.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Would have a long time ago if I could. But I know you. I might have told you not to see her because I didn’t want shit like this happening and me getting dragged into it, but the truth is, we both know you’re not like Rowan or some of the other tools she’s dated.”

He’s giving me a compliment, and yet it fucking hurts to hear. He’s telling me I’m a good guy, but I’m not. I’ve known about Rowan and that sex tape, and I haven’t said a word. I’ve kept it from Saylor and Smith both. I can’t tell him right now, but after this game … I will. But first, I need to talk to her.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t pretty, but at least they won, right?” Gemma whispers in my ear after the Bay Sharks pick up the win by one goal.

She’s right; it was the ugliest game I’d seen them play in a good long while, but it’s over now, and they will skate off the ice as winners.

I don’t know what was going on with them tonight, but out of everyone, Ryder seemed to struggle the most. I’m not naive enough to think it had anything to do with me; he might have been calling me a lot, but I’m sure he doesn’t care that much that I’ve been ignoring him.