Page 49 of These Wicked Hearts

She slips off the bar stool. “No knowledge required. Come on. It’ll be fun. I have seats on the glass. Right where the action is.”

I take my drink and down the rest of the contents. I hate sports. I can’t stand the whole entire culture of it. I know some could say the same for rock music, but when you grow up watching your foster dad scream at the TV because his special little football team isn’t winning, it’s a bit of a turn off. It always brought out the worst in him.

Vanessa seems excited, though, and I do like hanging out with her. It’ll keep my mind off him at least. I look at Quinn, who seems to be waiting for me to say no and stay here with him instead. Quinn’s nice, but I can’t use him that way. It wouldn’t be fair with his feelings for me.

My shoulders sink. “Sure, fuck it, why not.”

The arena is deafening.

Maybe this chaos is what I need to keep my mind off Atlas. My phone went off on the ride over, and I hate how excited I got thinking it was him. It wasn’t. It was another text from Jim, and I shut my phone off.

I can’t keep doing this and letting him win.

What does that even look like? How can I stop it? If I cut him off, then where does that leave us? That night I met Atlas I was seconds from slipping off the edge. Now, I’m not sure what happened to me, but it’s like he ignited this fight inside me.

I don’t know how to get out of this.

How can I tell my friends our entire career is built on a lie? How can I do that to them? The shame I’d bring us would be career ending. I can’t do that to them. Music is our life, and this band is everything to the four of us.

Music blares, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Who’s playing?”

Not that it matters. I don’t know shit about hockey. I just need a distraction.

“The Vipers are our home team. My best friend used to be their goalie, but he got traded last year to the Oregon Otters. That’s who they’re playing tonight.” Vanessa’s dark eyes seem to sparkle as players begin to spill onto the ice. “I miss him so much, but how can I be sad when he’s so damn happy? It’s all I ever wanted for him.” Her red lips split into a wide smile.

A chorus of boos echo through the stadium as players wearing white jerseys with green and brown trim enter the ice.

Vanessa shoots up, clapping loudly as one of the players skates up near us. He’s wearing bulky gear, different from the rest of his team, and he takes off his helmet, his curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I fucking love you,” she screams. I look at the man. Why does he look familiar?

A bunch of fans slap the glass as he skates over, but he’s not paying any of them any mind as he blows her a kiss, mouthing “Love you too,” then piles his hair back into his helmet. Another player skates toward him, looking back at us, then grabs the front of his helmet and kisses the top.

Vanessa sits down. “Oh shit, this game should be interesting.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, that’s my friend Andre.” Then she points to a player in a white jersey with black and accents. “And him, right there, he’s the one who used to play for the Otters but was traded at the end of last season. I haven’t watched them in person yet. This is the first game they’re playing against each other. Besides that, the Vipers and Otters have always had a feud. It gets pretty vicious sometimes.”

I follow the man she was talking about as he shoots pucks into their net. “Why’s that?”

“They’re always at the top of their conferences, and the Otters had a years’ long winning streak against them until last year when the Vipers won a playoff round against them. There are also personal feuds between players. I mean, there was Oli and Andre, but that’s a whole thing now.” She laughs. “Then I think there’s a player on the Otters who’s always fighting with our captain, Knox.”

The man she was pointing to before skates around the arena before he lifts his head in her direction. She stands up and waves at him until he starts to skate over to us. I watch him come closer, a smile growing on his . . . face. Wait.

I know that dumbass smile.

When he gets closer, he takes off his helmet.

Holy shit.

He stops for a moment when he sees me, as frozen as I feel as I try to make sense of this. Vanessa slaps the glass, snapping his attention to her. His eyes keep wavering between us as he comes closer. “Ready to get your ass beat?” she yells.

Atlas’s lips split into a smile. “Ready to kick some Otter ass you mean,” he yells back with a smile. His eyes slide to me again and I think I forget how to breathe. The silly boy who found his way into my bed last night is nowhere to be found.

This man is someone else entirely.

And I shouldn’t be as turned on as I am.

Atlas smiles at me then taps the glass before he skates off. “What the hell was that?” She sits.