Page 53 of Triple Play
“Bullshit,” Jordie says, quiet and certain. “You’ve been into her since she moved in.”
“Fuck you.”
“Just fuck her instead,” Devon calls out. “Seriously, Cap. Get her out of your system. Stop taking it out on us.”
The team murmurs agreement—exhausted and desperate and completely missing the point.
Like it’s that simple. Like I can just fuck her and move on. Like she’s not Teddy’s little sister. Like I didn’t kiss her two years ago and ruin everything.
Like it would be nothing. The last person I loved died. Letting myself feel things isn’t exactly a strong suit anymore.
“Please,” Bryce begs. “My legs are dead. Just bang your roommate so we can have normal practices again.”
“Yeah, Cap,” someone else says. “Dick her down. For the team.”
They’re all laughing now, like this is funny. Like my life is a joke they get to be entertained by.
Jordie’s not laughing. He’s still watching me with those too-perceptive blue eyes.
“Not happening,” I say. My voice cuts through the noise. “I’m not fucking Elise. And neither is anyone on this team. Especially not you, Dickson.”
“Why not?” Jordie asks, a genuine question. Not challenging—just asking.
Because she’s mine. Because I kissed her first. Because the thought of you touching her makes me want to break something.
“Because she’s our roommate,” I say instead. “And we’re not animals.”
“Speak for yourself,” Devon mutters.
I ignore him and blow my whistle. “Two more rounds. Then we’re done.”
The team groans, but they line up.
Jordie skates up next to me while they’re getting ready—close enough that only I can hear.
“You know this is fucked up, right?” His voice is low. “Using the team to work out whatever issues you have with Elise?”
“I don’t have issues with Elise.”
“Right. That’s why you stormed out of dinner last night. That’s why you’re running us into the ground this morning.” He shakes his head. “You want her. Just admit it.”
“I don’t—”
“You do. And that’s fine. But don’t punish everyone else because you’re too chickenshit to do something about it.”
The words hit like a punch.
“Fuck off, Dickson.”
“I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” He pushes off, skates to the line, and looks back at me. “Figure your shit out, Cap. Before someone else does it for you.”
The threat is clear.
He’s going after her. For real this time.
And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.
Practice ends twenty minutes later. The team drags themselves off the ice, exhausted, pissed at me but too tired to say anything.
