Annie is the youngest of the Murphy siblings. She reminds me a lot of Riley.
“You have the store. How did that happen?”
“It was an accident.”
“What?” Sloane spins in her seat. “How is opening a bookstore an accident? I didn’t know this.”
I shrug, my eyes still glued to the ice. I’m a slut for competency porn, and Jack, annoyingly, is perfection to watch on the ice. “It was just a side hustle for a bit to help pay the bills. I was going to be a teacher.”
“Do you still want to be a teacher?” Annie asks.
That’s a big question. It’s not that I regret the decisions that I’ve made; it’s more that I didn’t have a choice in making them. My sisters needed me, and I had to figure out another way to pay the bills on top of the crummy office job I worked at between classes when I took temporary custody of them.
“Shit,” Sloane mutters.
“What is it?” I look over to Sloane clutching Ethan’s arm before I follow. Sloane’s ex, Jason, is chirping at Jack from the bench. The refs skate between the two, break up whatever was about to happen, and play continues, but not before Jack points at Jason with his stick. Another Breakers’ teammate slaps his hand against Jack’s back before he skates over to the team’s bench and hops over the wall.
“Can’t leave it alone. I hope Jack fucking lays that asshole out,” Ethan grumbles.
Sloane slaps her hand onto his thigh. “Easy, big boy.”
Annie pretends to gag, and I chuckle.
I didn’t really hang out with the Murphys until Sloane came to town, but I love their family. A small pang wedges its wayunder my ribs at the realization that my family is anything but what the Murphys have.
I force a smile as Sloane and Ethan keep giving Annie a hard time, all the while annoyed that I can’t seem to look away from Jack even if I want to. And I do. Ethan and Annie, hell, even Sloane can try to convince me otherwise, but I know Jack is trouble. This is all just one small blip in what’s been a great year. I’m not going to let any of this distract me, not going to get pulled into whatever the rest of the internet says is going on.
By the end of the second period, the tension explodes. Jack and Jason collide near New York’s net. The two struggle for control of the puck before Jason slams his stick back, whacking Jack in the shoulder.
“That’s fucking slashing, ref,” Annie yells.
Jack shoves off the boards, jaw tight, eyes locked on Jason. As if he’s just waiting for an excuse to fight.
Jason mouths something I can’t make out, but Jack does.
Annie stuffs another bite of pretzel into her mouth and laughs. “Watch this.”
Before I can ask, Jason throws a weak punch toward Jack. It’s more of a slap. Jack doesn’t flinch. Instead, he lunges to grip Jason’s jersey in both fists and yanks him off balance. He cocks his arm back, shakes off a glove, and lands a right hook across Jason’s face.
The arena erupts into cheers. Someone’s popcorn from behind me spills over my shoulders, and I brush it off, too focused on the ice to care.
My fingers curl around the edge of my seat as Jack and Jason awkwardly circle the ice, tangled up, fists flying. Their gloves scatter across the ice. Jack’s all fury, every punch sharp and controlled.
I should hate this, but judging by the warm current racing through my body, and my breath coming a little faster, I realizeit’s working—whatever this strange feral energy is—and I’m cheering him on.
I jump to my feet and shout with Annie and Sloane, tossing my arms into the air, as Jason lands a punch. The refs push and shove, trying to break the pair apart. But Jason’s fist connects, and Jack doesn’t stumble back or fall—he just drops. His knees give out, and he crumples to the ice.
An eerie quiet falls over the arena.
I gasp, my hands clutched over my mouth. Fuck, he’s not moving.
“Why isn’t he—” Annie grips my hand. “Ethan? Ethan!”
It’s been five hours since Jack collapsed onto the ice.
He was brought to MGH immediately, and the doctors ran a bunch of tests. We waited for hours until a nurse finally let us back in to see him. Annie grabbed my arm and pulled me along with her and Sloane. For some reason I still don’t understand, I followed. Now I’m in the most uncomfortable chair beside Jack’s hospital bed, listening to the steady beep of his heart on the monitor, and trying not to lose my mind after sitting under shitty fluorescent lights for so long.
I swear my teeth are vibrating. I hate big lights.
