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CHAPTER 7: THE JEALOUSY BEGINS

The first real crack in our quiet peace came two days later, when Mark — the new rookie winger, bright-eyed, cocky, and completely unaware — started paying me far too much attention. He’d lean over my desk in the front office, lingering far longer than necessary, making jokes that didn’t need to be told, touching my arm or my shoulder whenever he laughed, asking me out for coffee after practice, then dinner, then drinks. I laughed it off every time, turning him down gently, thinking nothing of it — until I saw the way Elias and Silas watched him.

Elias went quiet, withdrawn, his jaw set so tight I could see the muscle jumping whenever Mark was near. He barely spoke to me for two days, his answers short and clipped, his eyes dark and stormy when he thought I wasn’t looking. Silas was worse — sharp-tongued and short-tempered on the ice, snapping at teammates, playing harder and rougher than he ever had, his gaze locked on Mark every time he came near me, like he was waiting for the rookie to make one wrong move.

When I arrived at Elias’s apartment that Friday, the tension was so thick I could barely breathe. Elias was standing by the window, staring out at the city lights, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Silas was sitting on the couch, staring at nothing, his knuckles white where he gripped the cushions.

“You like him,” Elias said, not turning around, his voice flat and tight. “He’s young, and he’s funny, and he’s not hiding you away like you’re something to be ashamed of. Of course you like him.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Elias, what are you talking about? He’s just being friendly. I’ve told him no three times. I don’t want him. I want you.”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing,” Silas muttered, standing up and crossing the room, his eyes dark with jealousy and fear. “He touches you, and you smile at him. You laugh at his jokes. Like you don’t even care that we’re watching, that it’s tearing us apart.”

“That’s not fair!” I said, my voice rising, hurt and frustration bubbling over. “I’m not flirting with him! I’m just being polite! And you two — you’re acting like I’m doing something wrong, like I’m not risking everything for both of you! If you don’t trust me — if you don’t trust us — then what’s the point of any of this?”

My words hung in the air, sharp and clear, and both of them froze. Elias turned around, his face falling as he saw the tears in my eyes, the hurt written all over my face. Silas ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long, ragged breath, his anger melting into guilt.

“You’re right,” Elias said quietly, stepping toward me, his voice softening. “We’re being ridiculous. We know you don’t want him. It’s just… the thought of someone else touching you, of someone else getting to have you openly, without fear, without hiding… it makes us crazy. We’re scared. Scared we’ll lose you, scared we’re not enough, scared this secret will drive you away.”

“We’re sorry,” Silas said, reaching out to take my hand, his grip gentle now, apologetic. “We shouldn’t have doubted you. We’re a team. We’re supposed to be on your side, not fighting you. We’ll do better. I promise.”