Besides, I didn’t give a fuck what Erik wanted.
“What exactly are you getting?” I asked, already regretting it.
“Why you were always hoping Erik would drop her as his partner,” he replied, pointing at him. “I mean, dude, who wouldn’t fall in love if they werethisclose six days a week for hours?”
I glared at the guy who was supposed to be my friend, shoving a french fry into my mouth. “Professionals.”
“She had her cunt in his face like two times, dude. It doesn’t bother you?”
It didn’t, because as much as he wanted to believe either of them was paying attention to body parts, I knew both oftheir heads were far too occupied. They had to memorize two entire three to four-minute-long programs; their heads were busy worrying about landing the next jump and keeping their balance. The approximately two seconds that Erik’s stupid face was remotely close to my fiancée’s intimate area because of a stunt was brushed over like it never even happened.
Their stunts were as natural as hockey players punching one another.
“The only things that bother me are that you keep bringing up Brooke’s private parts, and the fact that Erik treats her like shit,” I muttered, but I suppose he heard it.
What exactly was Fynn’s obsession with Brooke’s body anyway? He’d known her since middle school, and he never gave a fuck about Brooke before. He only recently began to sexualize her.
“Why do you care if I bring it up?” He leaned back in his seat, holding both of his hands behind his head. “It’s not like you broke up or shit, so chill your balls, dude.”
My hands balled into fists, and I could swear if his mouth opened just one more time, I would’ve thrown them right at his face. But I was better behaved than that, at least I liked to think so.
“I texted her last night, just to see if she’d be down to fuck, but she never replied,” he added. “Why do you suppose that is?”
“Oh, no, how ever would I know?” I wanted to break his nose. Fuck, I wanted to break every single goddamn bone in his body.
When did my friend turn into someone I wanted to throw off a skyscraper?
“I sincerely hope the fact that mygirlfriendghosted you didn’t break your heart of gold,” I said, yet somehow managing to keep my voice calm and steady, despite fightingthe urge to reach for my skates and slit his throat with the blade.
Just one more hour, and I could punch the guy in the face without getting in trouble for it. God, I loved hockey.
Brooke and I decided to keep our engagement to ourselves for now, just so we didn’t have to deal with our friends’ judgment. We were going to tell our parents later tonight, though.
“Nah, it’s fine, I’ll find someone else to fuck eventually.” He looked toward the ice again, laughing when Erik dropped Brooke once more.
He did it on purpose. I just knew it. There wasnofucking way he couldn’t have held onto her hand for another second and pulled her up.
Yes, mistakes like this happened, I knew that, but Ineverin my life allowed Brooke to touch the ice when I was still her partner.
If she fell, I threw myself underneath her just to make sure she didn’t get hurt. If I knew I wasn’t going to catch her because I made a wrong move or for any other reason, even if it was just a feeling, I didn’t throw her in the air, didn’t lift her, didn’t do shit but make sure she was okay. And I held onto her for dear life so she wouldn’t get hurt during certain spins like the death spiral.
Fynn spoke again, yet I didn’t hear anything but inaudible chatter because I’d been too focused on watching the ice.
Brooke and Erik just went into a spiral sequence when suddenly, Erik slipped. He reached for Brooke and pulled her down with him. Brooke tripped over one of his legs, which pulled it back into averypainful-looking position as he hit the ground.
My fiancée’s hands shot up to cover her mouth in shock as she sat on the ice.
Erik tried to move, but he stilled instantly when a groan so loud that Fynn and I could hear it on the bleachers sounded through the arena.
Their coach immediately sprinted onto the ice to help, but I didn’t think there was much else to do but to call an ambulance.
“Shit, I think she broke his leg,” Fynn muttered.
As much as I knew this was wrong, I couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling out of me when I realized what this meant.
If Erik really broke his leg, it would take at least six to eight weeks until it healed, and then another few weeks would pass until he could even consider going back on the ice without injuring himself worse than before. And he wouldn’t be able to go back to skating at a level he did before for another couple of weeks to prevent fracturing his leg again so soon after the first one.
Two to three months was the earliest he would returnifit was a minor fracture. However, that one time years ago, when Brookebroke her ankle, she was advised to stay off the ice for at least six months.
