His jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
The words slice. Quick. Clean. A scalpel, not a fist.
I sit there, staring, trying to breathe through the impact. He’s never spoken to me like that before—never pushed backso directly. I’m used to his quiet resistance, his hesitations. Not this.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” he adds, softer but sharper somehow. “I don’t need you throwing punches every time someone says something ugly. Do you get that? I’ve dealt with worse. A lot worse. And if I survived that, I can survive Eric.”
Worse.
My gut twists because I know. I know there are shadows he hasn’t let me into yet, scars beneath the skin that don’t show. Every time he pulls back when I press too far, every time he flinches when anger rises—he’s carrying more than he says.
But he won’t give it to me.
“You don’t get it,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears, drowning thought. “I can’t just watch you get hurt. I can’t. It’s not in me.”
“I didn’t ask you to watch,” he says. Then, quieter, “And I didn’t ask you to fight.”
Silence stretches, heavy as stone. I can feel him retreating, inch by inch, walling himself off.
When he finally opens the door, the slam of it reverberates straight through my ribs. I watch him circle the car, wait for him to head toward my door, to let me follow him inside. But he doesn’t. I step out to meet him in the driveway.
He stops and his next words gut me.
“I’m staying at my apartment tonight.”
It feels like ice water dumped over my head. “What?”
His expression softens, but not enough to undo the damage. “I just need space. One night. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I open my mouth, a thousand protests ready to tear free. Space. Why the hell would he need space from me? He should need me closer, not further. Doesn’t he see I’m the only one who’ll fight for him? Doesn’t he see I’d give him the world just to keep him safe?
But the look in his eyes stops me cold. A plea, not a wall. Fragile, begging me not to push harder.
So I nod.
He turns, shoulders slumping, and walks down the sidewalk toward his car parked at the curb. His steps are quick, determined, but I see the hesitation in the way he doesn’t look back. And then he’s gone. Tail lights bleed into the dark until they vanish.
I stand there, staring at the empty street. My chest heaves. Every muscle screams with the need to chase after him, to drag him back inside where I can lock the door and keep the world away. To remind him he belongs here, with me.
I don’t. Because if I do, if I push too hard right now, I’ll lose him.
The house is too big when I finally step inside. Too quiet. His absence echoes in every corner, the couch where he’d curl up with his knee iced, the kitchen counter where he’d perch with a sandwich, the bed sheets still twisted with his scent.
I stand there, staring at the empty space, and the rage that carried me through Eric feels hollow now—pointless. I won the fight, but I lost what mattered.
I press my palms against the counter, bowing my head. My breath comes rough, uneven. Images flash in my mind; Eric’s sneer, Leander’s father’s ghost in his words, the bruises I’ve kissed along Leander’s throat. The way Leander looked at me tonight. Like I wasn’t his savior. Like I was just another storm he couldn’t weather.
My hands shake. My chest burns. And for the first time in years, I don’t feel like a captain, or a fighter, or anything but a man who’s in too deep.
Leander thinks I’m reckless. Maybe he’s right. But if being reckless means burning down the world before it can touch him—then I’ll burn it gladly.
Even if it means watching him walk away.
I’ve been pacing since practice ended, thoughpracticeisn’t the right word. The suspension keeps me off the ice, but I still went, still sat through drills like some ghost captain. The looks the guys gave me were enough. Half pity, half rage. I didn’t bite. Didn’t throw a punch. Didn’t even open my mouth. But the storm sat under my skin all the same.
And through it all, no call. No text. No message. Nothing from him.
Leander’s silence is a noose tightening around my throat.
