Page 54 of Scarred

When I texted Mae before the club, asking if she minded if I was later than usual, she practically insisted I go out, saying she would keep Scar for the night in her room, so I wouldn’t worry about her upstairs by herself.

“She’s in the playroom with her dolls.” Taking a seat at the island, she eyes me over the rim of her coffee mug. “Want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing to tell,” I shrug. “Do you mind taking Scar to dance this week?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. “I need to stay late for some extra drills.”

I need my head in the game this week, and after last night, it’s clear that the only way this doesn’t end up with her under me is to create some distance between us. The more time I spend with her, the more likely one of us ends up hurt.

“Of course,” she smiles. “I really enjoyed it last time.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she sips her coffee. “You failed to mention how beautiful the teacher is. She’s a sweetheart, too,” she adds. “Scarlett adores her.”

The mention of Luna puts me right back to last night—my name on her lips as she surrendered to me.

I tighten my hold on the coffee cup and unclench my jaw. “All the kids love her,” I say, refusing to take the bait and admit how fucking beautiful she is. “She’s a really good teacher.”

Taking my mug to the sink, I wash it out before putting it in the dishwasher. “Scarlett’s having fun, and that’s all that matters to me.” I dry my hands on the towel and toss it back on the counter, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against the sink.

“You do know that it’s okay for you to have a little fun too, right?”

I avoid her eyes and stare out the window.

“It’s been close to three years, Cayden,” she says, softly. “No one’s going to think badly of you if you start dating at some point. If it’s me you’re worried about…”

“It’s not,” I say, cutting her off and pushing off the counter. “Scar and hockey are all I want to focus on right now. They’re all I need.” The last part leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I ignore the harsh realization that it doesn’t feel like enough anymore. “I’m going to spend some time with Scarlett before practice.” I walk toward the playroom and hear Mae sigh.

I know she means well and wants me to find happiness again, but she has no clue how much it cost me the first time.

I can’t be pulled under again.

I won’t.

“Fuck!” I yell, hearing the puck snap against the netting behind me as the red light comes on. I’ve saved hundreds of those kinds of hits before. I can practically do it with my eyes closed.

So, why the fuck am I standing here with a puck behind my goddamn goal line?

I flick it out with my stick and grab my water bottle, spraying my face and hoping it will clear my head from the intruding thoughts I can’t escape from.

“You good, Blade?” Stone stops in front of me and peers at me closely. Of course, he noticed I should have made that easy save. That’s what makes him a damn good captain. He notices when one of us is off, even when we’re determined to hide it.

I’ve been off all week in practices, and now we’re down 1-4 because of it.

“I’m good,” I grit out. “Won’t happen again.”

“Everyone has a bad day…”

“I said I’m good,” I growl, cutting him off.

“And they say I’m the grumpy one of the team,” he chuckles before getting serious. “Whatever the hell that’s taking you out of this game, use that anger and frustration you are feeling on that goddamn puck. The net is your home,” he says, getting close to my mask. “Protect it.” He taps my leg pad with his stick and skates to the ref, where the players are lining up for another faceoff.

His pep talks normally work, but tonight, nothing seems to be working. I manage to hang on by a thread for the rest of the first period, but we are still down by three, and I know it’s because of me.

I skate off the ice first and head to the locker room, throwing my gloves and mask off. Grabbing an electrolyte drink and my headphones, I take my usual spot in the corner, letting the team know I don’t want to be bothered.

The locker room is loud with the sound of gear being tossed off, echoing off the walls. Banter between teammates filters through the room as coaches discuss and review footage on tablets.

The headphones make it all muted and distant as I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes to the chaos around me.

Focusing on my breathing, the outside world disappears, but my mind is anything but quiet.

My eyes move beneath my eyelids as I go over each save position in my head. It’s a routine that’s kept me steady through every game…every high-pressure moment.