What am I supposed to do with my life? Sure, I have enough money to last me a lifetime, and an amazing boyfriend who’ll move in with me in a few months. But that’s all I’m going to have for the next fifty years until I die, that is if I die by the age of eighty. Well, I do have my friends too, and their kids, as well as my sister and hopefully for another long time my mother, but even so, their presence won’t stop me from getting bored.
I am feeling great though, so maybe I can make it to forty, doubtful, but it is possible.
“Do you still want—”
“Davis?!” Someone interrupts me as he comes barging through the doors. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” Luan says all kindly before he climbs off me. “We were just talking.”
I get up and turn toward Aaron, sighing because I know he’s going to ask questions. “What can I do for you?”
“What the hell was that!?” Aaron lets the doors fall shut, but a second later they fly back open and Colin marches inside with the same stern look on his face as Aaron.
“Since when are youbeatingpeople on the ice?!”
I open my mouth to speak, but Aaron cuts me off. “You do know that this is going to have consequences, right?! I can already see the headlines;Grey Davis turns violent with his new Captain title: how long will he last until the NHL kicks him out.”
I snort, shaking my head. “You forgot to putgayin there somewhere.” It’s all the tabloids like to talk about these days. Actually, it has been all they ever talk about me for years. I thought they’d stop eventually, but nope. At least it died down a little bit, I guess.
Colin agrees, humming as he thinks of a way to rephrase the hypothetical headline. “NewpresumablyGay Captain of the NYR throws fists at opponent because….” He looks at me expectedly. “Because?”
“Because Saxon Grace is a homophobic bastard.” Could’ve phrased this more nicely, but why would I when it’s the truth? “Need any more details?”
Taking in my best friend’s stunned expressions, I highly doubt they want to know more.
“I do.” Luan turns my head around to face him. When I look at him, there’s nothing left of the joyful guy I know. Every ounce of happiness is replaced with anger, with something vicious.
Chapter 7
“how much you wanna risk?”—Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers, Coldplay
September 2026
He’s not supposedto answer questions, at least none that are related to the fight on the ice. His PR team advised Grey to keep it down, to deal with the matter in private and not drag out an unnecessary fight.
As the team captain, he already has a whole lot of cameras aimed at him anyway, but right now, if I had to guess, there are about a million more pointing at him, so it makes sense Grey’s team wants him to keep quiet, withhold an answer to every question these bloodthirsty reporters throw at him.
But ever since Grey realized he is living hisownlife, that nobody can tell him what to do and what not, he prefers his own ways. That includes making sure Saxon Grace’s name will be dragged through dirt.
It scares me a little because this right there is something I would’ve done a couple of years ago, before I decided I didn’t want to bethatguy anymore. Wanting revenge, not caring about what happens to people that don’t have much value in your life, it’s a very frightening territory to enter.
There is something funny about Grey sitting there in front of tons of cameras shoved in his face though, especially because his expression is so blunt, he doesn’t show any emotions at all. But then he has this apple in his hand just munching on it while stupid reporters throw questions at him.
“Are you planning to make this season a better one than last year’s?” one reporter asks.
Grey takes a bite of his apple, shaking his head. “Wait, we’re supposed to actuallywina game? Jesus, why’d no one ever tell me?”
God, I love this man.
“Now that you’re the captain, do you think the team will be stronger than before?”
Once again, Grey takes a bite of his apple before answering. “We aim to win fights. With our fists.”
“Does losing the Stanley Cup of 2026 byonepoint evoke more spirit to win in 2027?”
A muscle in his jaw twitches at the reminder. It was pretty painful to watch them lose byonegoal, even to me. “2026’s loss was solely to prove we’re not some witches. Don’t want the NHL burning us alive, do we?”
“Who started the fight, Mr. Davis?” a younger looking reporter asks.
