Page 33 of Play Dirty

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ares — just for a second — huff something that might’ve been a chuckle.

Their team hadn’t held back after that, though.

“Oh, she talks,” their center had smirked.

“Careful,” someone else said. “Stat girl’s got opinions.”

“Did she come with the team?” another nudged, squirting water in his mouth on a break. “Or did she wander in off the street?”

The laughter grew thicker after that, with more voices. I hadn’t responded again. There was no need to. But I’d felt it — the familiar shift. Not from them, but from our team. They’d heard every word of it, and they hadn’t stepped in. Not for me. Not for their logo, either.

I reached the halfway point of the lot, my breath fogging up the scarf I’d pulled over my chin.

It wasn’t just them, and that was the thing. The scrimmage team could fuck right off.

It was the house. The chaos in the kitchen. The missing food, the disappearing laundry. The spot at the table that was never left open for me.

But it was also the looks. The names.

Stats-girl.

Ice Queen.

I pulled out my car keys, thinking about the constant, low-level pressure that never quite let up. The memory of this morning hit hard: hot water, until it wasn’t. One second steam, heat, relief. The next… nothing but ice.

I’d hissed like a snake, jerking back so instinctively I’d slammed my head into the shadow caddy. It hadn’t been an accident. I’d known that much immediately.

Quickly wrapping a towel around myself, I’d stormed straight down the stairs, water dripping the whole way. The living room had gone quiet, the second I walked in.

They weren’t shocked or surprised, they just sat there, staring at me. No one said anything. No one even pretended. All except—

Ares.

He’d looked me over once, top to bottom. His gaze was slow. Deliberate.

“Old pipes,” he’d said.

Flat. Like it was nothing. Like I was supposed to believe it.

I’d held his gaze for a long few seconds; long enough that it should’ve been uncomfortable. He hadn’t looked away, not for an instant. And in his eyes, I saw it. I knew.

Of course, I’d known the whole time.

I looked up again, finally approaching my car. The lot was more crowded than it should’ve been. The Reavers were still in the showers, but the Vipers were still there. The scrimmage team was clustered near their bus, voices carrying across the cold air. Something about it being down. Delayed. Not leaving yet.

“Hey…”

I should’ve heard the footsteps behind me, but I didn’t. Not until it was too late.

I kept on walking anyway.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.”

I didn’t stop. Raising my key fob, I hit the button twice.

Wrong one.

I hit it again and the car chirped. I heard the satisfying click of the doors unlocking.