For Once
963 Words
Damien Vale’s POV
The kitchen was empty when I walked in, which was fine by me. I wasn’t looking for Evelyn, and the quiet was the only thing I could stand in this house.
It had been three days since she moved in. Our deal was simple: she got to stay out of jail, and I got a PR shield to keep the media off my back. As long as Evelyn Hart played the part of the devoted girlfriend, she could disappear into the background for all I cared.
I grabbed my keys, ignored how weirdly quiet the house felt without her smart mouth, and headed out.
The drive to campus was a chore, and the whispers started the second I got out of my truck. They always did. People stared—some openly, some pretending to look at their phones. It was all the same to me. Two years ago, I would’ve made them regret looking at me. Now, I just didn't have the energy. I was the school's cautionary tale, the guy who burned his own life down, and everyone was just waiting for me to explode again.
The hockey arena was the only place where the noise actually stopped. The smell of ice, the cold air—it was the only thing left that made any sense.
Practice was a drag. It was just a bunch of drills for coaches who were waiting for me to snap. Everyone was watching, waiting for a fight or an ego trip. I gave them nothing. Just skating. Just work. It was exactly what they wanted, and exactly what I hated. It was a boring, empty way to live, but it was better than the alternative.
I was heading to the locker room with my heavy gear on my shoulder when Rhett Lawson blocked my path.
Of course he did.
He stood there with that annoying, golden-boy smile. He was the kind of guy who spent his whole life being told he was God’s gift to hockey, totally protected by the fact that he was the campus favorite.
"Vale."
I didn't stop walking. "Lawson."
"That's it?"
I stopped. Not because I wanted to, but because he clearly wasn't going to let it go, and his predictability annoyed me. "What do you want?"
His smirk grew wider, making a few players nearby slow down to watch. An audience. How original.
"I was wondering when you’d start acting like yourself," Rhett said. "The silent, brooding act is getting a little old, don't you think?"
I looked past him, focusing on a spot on the wall. "Move."
The bastard didn't budge. He just crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. "I heard about you and Evelyn. Funny how that works out, isn't it?"
I didn't blink. I didn't care about the girl, and I definitely didn't care about his history with her.
Rhett's eyes narrowed. He was clearly pissed that he wasn't getting a reaction out of me. He wanted me to lash out and lose my mind, just to prove every bad thing he’d ever said about me was true.
"You know," he shrugged, his voice getting low and smug, "my ex-girlfriend always did have a thing for damaged goods."
I still didn't give him a thing.
His jaw tightened, and he stepped right into my personal space. "I guess you’ll take whatever scraps are handed to you."
Finally. A real insult. It wasn't about her; it was about me. I could almost respect the effort.
"Done?" I asked, my voice flat.
"No," Rhett snapped, his smile completely disappearing. "I’ve spent two years cleaning up the mess you left behind."
"What mess?"
It was a mistake to ask, and I knew it the second the words left my mouth. His face sharpened.
"The team’s reputation," he hissed, his voice echoing off the glass. "You disappear, and everyone else pays for it. You come back, and suddenly everyone’s supposed to forget the toxic garbage you left behind? I don't think you’ve changed at all, Vale. You just got better at pretending to be a good person."
Instantly, a slow, hot anger stirred under my skin. The storm was finally ready to break.
I took a step toward him. His smirk shook. I took another step. Rhett held his ground, arrogant until the very end.
"You gonna hit me, Vale?" he dared me, his voice tight. "You’re just begging for a reason to go back to the way you were."
One more step and I was right in his face. The air between us was ready to ignite. He swallowed hard, his confidence slipping, and for a second, I was completely ready to break his jaw. I didn't care about the consequences, the cameras, or the rumors. I just wanted to hear him crack.
Then, a blur.
Arms wrapped around my waist, tight and strong. The sudden movement caught me so off guard that I actually froze. I looked down and saw the last person I expected.
Evelyn.
She wasn't being soft, and she wasn't doing it because she liked me. She was bracing herself, digging her heels in like she was trying to stop a runaway train. She stood on her toes, pressing her cheek against my shoulder so it looked like perfect, sweet devotion to the idiots watching us from the sidelines.
Then, her lips brushed my ear.
"Don't," she whispered, her voice sharp as a knife. "Don't f**k this up for both of us."
Her fingers dug into my jacket. I didn't move. I didn't swing. I just looked at Lawson, who was standing there with his mouth half-open.
For the first time in my life, I solved a problem without using my fists. I just wrapped my arms around Evelyn and hugged her back.
- Writer
