Faking It with the Forward: Wittmore U Hockey

“Cain!” Axel cries. “Settle a bet for us.”

I’m on my way to meet Twyler when he stops me near the bar.

“Pete thinks that McDavid is going to pass Gretzky, but I think it’ll be Ovechkin. He already passed Gordie Howe—”

Peering over Axel’s shoulder, I see Twyler waiting for me. She’s not alone though. My eyes narrow to get a better look down the poorly lit hall. She’s talking to some guy.

“McDavid is the better skater,” Pete argues. “Everyone knows that.”

“Yeah, but without a solid line to back him up, he can’t fulfill his potential. Ovechkin on the other hand…”

Half listening, I try to get a better look down the hall. I’ve never seen this guy before. He’s not a regular at the bar—definitely not the athletic type. He has piercings on his eyebrow and lip, and dark, shaggy hair. It’s not that kid Logan that she’s become friendly with, but he’s got the same vibe.

I know one thing; I don’t like the way he’s smiling at her.

I start to move around Axel, but his hand clamps around my forearm, trying to get me to settle the bet. “Dude,” I tell them, “no one knows if it’ll be Ovechkin or McDavid, or some unknown that hasn’t made it up the ranks, but we’ll probably find out in the next two seasons if they pass Gretzky’s high score.”

Down the hall, this guy has moved closer to Twyler. His fingers graze her throat and I see the panic in her eyes.

I jerk my arm free. “Oh, hell no.”

Pushing past Axel, I charge down the hallway. Twyler is gone, but the guy that was talking to her isn’t.

“Where is she?” I ask, pushing open the bathroom door. It’s empty.

“Who?”

“Don’t fuck around, man.” I square up to him. “Where’s Twyler? I saw you talking to her just a second ago.”

“She left,” he jerks his thumb at the backdoor.

“She left,” I repeat, then tilt my head. “What did you say to her?”

He shrugs. Fuck he’s cocky for a skinny guy. “Nothing that wasn’t the truth, but typically, Twy can’t handle the facts.”

He starts to pass me as though the conversation is over, but I clamp a hand over his shoulder, dragging him to a stop.

“Hands off me, asshole.”

I drop my hand, but we’re not finished. “Why did she leave?” Because there’s no way she’d take off without telling me or Nadia. “Tell me what you said to her.”

“You know,” he says, raking his hand through his hair, “you should be thanking me.”

“For what?”

“For getting her ready for you. She’d never be able to handle a bunch of jocks if I hadn’t broken her in first.” He smirks. “You’re welcome.”

White hot rage licks at my spine, but it doesn’t cloud my mind enough to not spit out, “You must be Ethan.”

“She talks about me? Not a surprise really. Girls never forget their firsts, right?”

“You little fuck.” My arm snaps out, grabbing him by the shirt. He’s so skinny I could snap him in two without breaking a sweat. My elbow snaps back, swinging into a punch, and I’m glad when I see the panic fill his eyes. My swing misses–not because of my aim. No, someone’s got a grip on the crook of my elbow and drags me back.

“Hey! Cap! Cool it, shit.” Reid’s got a tight hold of my shoulders. I fight against him, but he’s strong.

Ethan puts some distance between us, brushing down his shirt. “I always knew you guys were just a bunch of psycho roid-ragers covering up your violent tendencies under the guise of athletics.” He eyes me with superiority. “Thanks for proving it, asshole.”

“Let me go,” I say to Reid. “I’m not finished.”

“Can’t do it,” Reid says, voice tight. “Even if he deserves it. Coach’ll flip if you go down for fighting.”

He’s right. I’ll get in a fuckton of trouble. Although, I’m pretty sure it’d be worth it.

“What’s going on?” Axel comes around the other side. His voice has that easy drawl that he uses to taunt forwards on the ice. He takes one look at my furious expression and then another down at Ethan who seems to realize he’s not just outsized—he’s outnumbered. “Why are you picking fights with hipsters?”

“He said some rude shit about Twyler.” My fingers curl into fists.

“TG?” Axel says, suddenly interested. “What’s a little fuck like this have to do with our girl.”

“I knew it,” Ethan shakes his head, but I don’t miss the smug smirk on his mouth. “I knew she was fucking all of you. God, what a whore.”

“What did you say?” Axel steps between us, knuckles cracking. “I know I didn’t hear that right.”

In a blink, the whole scene unfolds in front of my eye. One of us destroys this little shit. Like fucking destroys him. We all get tossed into jail. Coach has to come bail us out. The season and our careers are ruined before they even get started. All over a pathetic, abusive, little shit. Taking a deep breath, I tell him, “Get the fuck out of here.”

“What?” Axel looks at me in disbelief. “You’re going to let him just—”

“Yes.” I look at Ethan. “You get the fuck out of our bar or I can’t guarantee you don’t get a beatdown the next time.” He seems to realize I’ve just given him a free pass and starts to walk back to the bar. Reid loosens his grip and releases me. I turn to them and say, “Escort him out.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find my girl.”

Twyler linked up our phone tracking systems after we took our relationship underground. Not so we could find each other, but rather, in her words, “If I go missing or turn up dead, they’ll figure out pretty quick you were my secret boyfriend. This protects both of us.”

This is what it’s like to fall for a girl obsessed with true crime.

And fuck, I definitely think I’m falling for her.

Outside the bar, I quickly look at the app, and see that Twyler is already up at Shotgun, her little icon moving in the direction of the teal house.

I break into a jog, running out of the business district, and back onto campus. She’s walking up the sidewalk leading to her porch when I catch up.

“Twy,” I call out, “wait up.”

I expect her to keep running. Maybe even to shut me out. The things that asshole said to me—if he unleashed the same toxicity on her? She’s probably in a full-blown panic. But she slows her gait, walks up her front steps and opens the door. When she steps inside, she doesn’t shut me out.

I follow her in, closing the door behind me, and find her in her room, curled on her bed, her arms wrapped around a pillow shaped like a cat. That prick called her a whore and accused her of sleeping with the team. No wonder she’s upset.

“Can I come in?” I ask, hovering in the doorway. If she says no, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

She nods, and I hear the sniff. Dammit, she’s crying. That goddamn bastard, the urge to track him down is barely outweighed by the desire to stay.

“Fuck, Sunshine,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. I lay a hand on her head and stroke her hair.

“He’s such a dick,” she says. “It’s like he has some radar that tells him exactly when to show up and fuck with my life.”

Her cheeks are streaked with tears, but she looks more pissed than sad. My heart aches seeing her like this. It took so long and so much work to get her to drop that shield. I won’t let him fuck that up. Without asking, I curl up next to her and wrap my arms around her body, holding her tight.

“Sorry I ran. I know you hate it when I do that.”

“Keeps me in shape.” I crack a smile, but it’s halfhearted. “You had every right to get away from that bastard, although next time, I’d rather you come find me.”

“I panicked.”

“I know.” I rest my head on her shoulder. “I also know he needed his ass kicked.”

She cranes her neck to look at me, eyes wide. “Did you?”

“Almost. Reid stopped me mid-swing.” I take a deep breath, maybe my first one since leaving the bar. “But I couldn’t. Letting my temper get the best of me would hurt the whole team.” I cup her face and wipe a tear off her cheek. “And it would bring up a lot of questions about why I was fighting with your ex that neither of us want to answer.”

“Thank you,” she says. “He’s just… god, he’s the fucking worst.”

I have a million questions. How did she end up with this prick? And why did it take her so long to get away from him? How does he still have such a hold on her? I don’t believe she still loves him. Not after hearing what he said about her. I don’t want to pry, but it feels like a weight holding her down.

“I’m hoping we scared him enough not to bother you anymore.” I press a kiss on the back of her neck. “But if you want to talk about it—him—I’m here because…” God, why does this feel so important to say? “I like you, Twyler. A lot. And I want to be here for you.”

She’s quiet for a long beat, and as her breathing evens out I’m sure she’s fallen asleep. But then she speaks out, voice quiet. “I haven’t told many people about my relationship with Ethan. Nadia and Ruby know, and mother has enough details that she worries about me. My dad was already gone when I got involved with him and he was probably the only one that I would’ve listened to.” Her heart pounds in her chest and I can feel it against my body. “I was vulnerable, and with a guy like Ethan, he probably saw me coming like a lamb to slaughter.”

I tighten my grip around her waist.

“I do have a therapist, and she helps, but even then, it’s a struggle to put it into words.”

“Take your time,” I tell her. “And only if you want to.”

She shifts, rolling to face me. We lie face to face, my hand shifts to her hip. Biting down on her bottom lip, she exhales and says, “Going to college wasn’t a given for me. Even before my dad died, my parents had been questioning if I was ready for the responsibility. I had a pretty bad track record of making not-so-great friends. According to my therapist I’m attracted to ‘toxic’ people.” She adds the finger quotes for effect and rolls her eyes.

“You’re not the first teenager to make stupid decisions in high school, babe.”

“These weren’t your standard adolescent dramas. My parents would have been thrilled if I’d been sneaking out and going to parties. That they knew how to deal with. But the depression and isolation,” her blue eyes flick to mine, “the self-harm. That freaked them out.”

The thought of her hurting so bad she’d inflict injury to herself… I just want to take that pain away. “I can see that they’d be overwhelmed.”

“But it did get better. I got help. I stopped the self-harm. I threw myself into the sports training at my school, and got my shit together academically. I got into Wittmore, but unfortunately one bad habit followed me to college. I just had some kind of radar for toxic people.” She looks up at me with those bright eyes. “You know, I met Ethan the first day I moved into the dorms. I was looking to shake off my past self and take some chances. In hindsight, I was incredibly vulnerable, reeling from my dad’s death and being in an unfamiliar place. Ethan probably picked up on that the instant he saw me.”

“Because he’s a goddamn predator,” I mutter.

“I thought he was edgy, and sexy with the piercings and tattoos. He wasn’t into sports or anything mainstream. Just the polar opposite of the jocks I spent all my time around in the program.”

“You mean hot, sexy, muscular guys with a dedication to their body and sport?”

That earns me the smallest flicker of a smile and a massive eye roll, and the tight spot in my chest loosens. “Smug, cocky, self-absorbed, testosterone-fueled jocks. Yes.” Her hand flattens against my abdomen, and I know she’s into my body even if it kills her to admit it. “Ethan was broody and struggled with his own bouts of depression. I felt like we understood one another and that maybe I could help him. Instead, I got tied into his personality pretty quickly. Everything revolved around his moods, his approval, his criticism… it became both important and impossible to meet his standards.”

“So he’s a pretentious dick.”

She laughs. “Pretty much.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “And he got off on making you feel like shit.”

“Apparently so.” Her entire body stiffens. “He hated the fact I was working with the athletic department, he called it ‘basic’ and tossed around all his theories about how institutions are just making a profit off the backs of student athletes—”

“He’s not entirely wrong about that,” I admit. It’s one reason strong players draft so early. We’re taking a risk every time we go on the ice. One college injury may end a career before it begins.

“—but,” she continues, “things really escalated when I got assigned by my program to intern with the hockey team.”

“Let me guess, he hates us the most?”

“You got it.” She smirks. “Hockey is just ‘sanctioned aggression.’”

“Does that mean if I kick his ass, they’ll look the other way?” I ask, regretting that I didn’t do it when I had the chance. “Because I can go pick up Axel and Reid and we’ll happily test that theory.”

She shakes her head. “It would only prove his point, that you’re just a bunch of aggressive cavemen.”

“I can live with that.”

“I’m sure you could.” She sighs. “I just lost sight of myself when I was dating him. I thought him being a dick was just ‘honesty,’ and the shitty way he commented on my hair or clothes, or body was just him being ‘real.’ Ruby hated him, and I thought she was just being controlling. My mom tried to straddle the line because she knew if she voiced her disapproval, I’d just dig in deeper.” Her eyes turn downward. “Ethan wasn’t content just being a controlling gaslighter. It got worse when we started having sex.”

My mind goes back to his comment about “breaking her in” for the team and that quick heat of anger comes back. I lift her chin until her eyes meet mine. “Tell me he didn’t force you.” Because I will murder him.

“Force, no. Pressure, yes.” She wipes at her eyes. “But it wasn’t even that he was just… rough. He was inconsiderate of my feelings and body.” She swallows thickly. “The last time we were together we were just hanging out in my dorm. Nadia was out and we were watching a movie. Everything seemed fine and we started making out.” Her fingers twist in my shirt. “He wrapped his hands around my throat. I freaked out. I don’t know. I think I didn’t trust him, and I just wanted him off of me. The last thing I remember is his eyes changing. Like, a switch flipped.”

“What do you mean the last thing you remember?”

“I woke up on the bed. Alone. Bruises on my throat. I passed out and he left.”

Blood pounds in my ears. He choked her out and left her there? Unconscious? That’s why she freaked out when I tried to touch her neck. “Did he do anything else?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “My clothes were still on. I think he scared himself and took off.”

“Jesus Christ, Twyler.”

“Nadia came home and knew something was wrong. She tried to get me to report it, but he’d just fucked with my head so badly that at the time I thought I’d asked for it somehow. Over the two years we were together he stripped away so much of my identity that I had no idea who I was or what I thought.”

“Sunshine, I am so fucking sorry this happened to you.”

“It gave me the guts to break up with him and cut him out of my life for good. I eventually told Ruby, who looped in my mom. Things got bleak for a while, but I was stronger than before. I had friends and family and the resources to get back on track.”

“And you gave up on men—other than through work.”

“Pretty much.” Her shoulder lifts in a shrug. “It wasn’t hard. None of the jocks were interested in me. It was a safe place to hide.” She smiles. “Until you ran into me at that coffee shop.”

“No regrets, babe.” I take her hand and bring her knuckles to my mouth, kissing the ridge. “I really, really, want to go beat his ass for hurting you and making you doubt yourself.” I catch her eye. “You’re amazing, Twyler. Kind, smart, tolerant of all the bullshit we put you through for your job…” She laughs and I run my thumb over her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Her skin turns pink. “Thank you for saying all that, but I don’t need you to beat anyone up and risk your position as captain or even as a member of the team. He’s a loser and not worth it.”

I don’t agree. At all, and the only thing keeping me from going off and tracking his scrawny ass down is the girl in this bed.

“You’re worth it.” My eyes dart to her mouth and I repeat what I said earlier, “I like you.”

“Still?” Her expression is incredulous. “Even after dropping all that trauma on you?”

“Even more, maybe,” I confess. It may scare her off after all of that. She may not want to be with anyone yet. This started off as a game—safe. I understand that better now. But my feelings have only intensified.

“I like you, too,” she admits, twisting her fingers in my shirt and pulling my face down to meet hers. “A lot.”