9. You Lost Me
1508 Words
Emily
A couple of the guys nearby chuckle.
The sound makes my jaw tighten.
Beg him?
What a f*****g joke.
This cheating, ego inflated, community property looking man thinks I would beg?
Nicole shifts beside me and I can feel her about to explode.
I tilt my head and force a slow smile. “Nope. You’re not the reason I’m here so you can ignore me.”
He laughs like I just told the funniest joke of the year. “Sure. So why are you here? It’s not like you’re a fan of hockey or anything. You never even came to watch me practice.”
There it is. The jab.
“Exactly. That’s why you better ignore me. You should know I’m not here for you.”
“Then who are you here for?”
I shrug. “None of your f*****g business.”
Tyler strolls closer, grinning like a fool. “Damn, Jack. She’s feisty today.”
I ignore him because I refuse to acknowledge background noise.
Jack steps closer. “Let me guess. You miss me.”
I blink at him. “Miss what? The cheating?”
A couple of the guys go quiet at that.
His jaw tightens but he quickly masks it with that stupid smirk I used to think was charming. I genuinely want to go back in time and slap my past self.
“You’re still mad,” he says.
“No,” I reply calmly. “I’m just allergic to disrespect.”
Nicole makes a proud little noise beside me.
Jack rolls his eyes. “You’re here for me. Just admit it. You finally realized you lost the best thing you had.”
I stare at him.
Why did I ever fall for this asshole?
Best thing I had? Please!
He suddenly grabs my wrist roughly, trying to pull me closer. “You don’t have to act tough.”
My body goes stiff instantly.
Before I can even react, a deep voice cuts through the air. “Let go of her.”
Everything freezes.
Jack’s hand is still around my wrist when I look up.
And there he is. Damien. Walking in like some king.
Black hoodie slightly fitted across his shoulders. Training pants. Duffle bag hanging from one hand. Hair slightly messy like he does not even try but still looks f*****g unreal.
Why is he this hot at practice?
His eyes are dark though.
Jack laughs. “Relax. We were just talking.”
Damien walks closer, gaze never leaving Jack. “I said let go.”
Jack immediately lets go and steps back.
Damien steps right into my space and without hesitation wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his side.
My brain short circuits.
His body is warm and solid.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Damien says casually.
Silence. Actual silence.
I feel my soul leave my body.
Jack stares at him. “Your what?”
Damien does not even blink. “My girlfriend.”
My brain is still buffering because Damien’s hand is resting dangerously low on my waist, and my body is painfully aware.
Jack is staring at us like someone just punched him in the throat.
“Wait,” he says, actually frowning now. “You actually meant it?”
Damien doesn’t answer him. His arm tightens slightly around me instead.
Jack looks at me, searching my face. “You’re really going to date him? You weren’t bluffing.”
Oh.
So now he cares.
I lift my chin. “I don’t bluff.”
His jaw ticks. “Emily, come on. This is f*****g stupid.”
Stupid?
I almost laugh.
“You cheating on me was stupid,” I say sweetly.
Jack runs a hand through his stupid hair, frustrated. “You’re just doing this to f*****g piss me off.”
“She doesn’t do anything for you,” Damien says calmly.
The temperature drops ten degrees.
Jack steps closer again, ignoring Damien completely. “You can’t be serious. Him? You don’t even like hockey.”
“I don’t need to like hockey to like him,” I snap.
Damien glances down at me briefly, something amused flickering in his eyes.
Oh God. Why does he look like he’s enjoying this?
Jack scoffs. “You think he’s going to treat you better? You think he’s not like the rest of us? He's a fuckboy.”
Damien’s arm slides a fraction lower on my waist, possessive.“Careful,” he says quietly.
Jack laughs, but it’s tight. “What? You going to threaten me?”
“No,” Damien replies smoothly. “I’m going to tell you to respect my girlfriend.”
My stomach flips.
My girlfriend.
Jack looks between us again, disbelief turning into something uglier. “You actually chose him.”
“You lost me,” I correct him. “You don’t get to act surprised.”
For a second he looks like he wants to grab me again. His hand even lifts slightly.
Damien notices instantly.
His body shifts in front of mine without breaking eye contact with Jack. “Don’t.”
One word.
Jack drops his hand.
Damien keeps his hand on my waist and steers me closer to the rink gently.
“Boys,” he calls out, sharp and commanding.
They slow down one by one, skating toward the bench. Jack does not move. He stays exactly where he is, watching like he is trying to burn holes through the back of Damien’s head.
Damien does not even look at him.
“I want you all to meet my girlfriend,” he says smoothly. “Emily Carter.”
Full name? Okay…
I need the earth to open up immediately.
A couple of them whistle. Someone claps. A few look confused. I can literally see it on their faces. Wait. Isn’t that Jack’s girl?
Yeah. That one.
I am certain some of them were there that night. They must have seen him cheating. Must have seen me walk in and freeze like an i***t.
“She’s beautiful,” Ethan says casually.
I almost choke.
Damien nods once. “I know.”
The confidence in that tone does something dangerous to my stomach.
He claps his hands. “Alright. Let’s get back to training.”
Training.
Right.
He pulls off his hoodie, revealing a fitted black compression shirt underneath and I have to physically look away because what the hell. His shoulders. His arms. The way the fabric stretches across his chest when he moves.
This should be f*****g illegal.
He hands me his bag and water bottle like this is routine. “Wait outside the rink.”
He's kinda bossy.
I nod because my brain is barely functioning.
As I turn, I pass Jack. I do not mean to look at him but I do.
His jaw is tight and his eyes dark. He looks furious as hell.
It is ridiculous because he's the one who cheated!
Why does he look like I betrayed him?
I ignore it and walk to the benches where Nicole is already seated.
The second I sit, she grabs my arm. “That was f*****g awesome. You should have seen Jack’s face.”
“I did,” I mutter. “He looked like he swallowed a cactus.”
She chuckles. “He’s dying.”
Good for him.
We turn back to the ice.
Training starts again and let me be very clear.
I have no idea what is happening.
They are skating fast. Shouting things. Smacking a tiny black thing across the ice with sticks. Someone chases it. Someone steals it. It disappears. It reappears. It might as well be magic.
I try to follow it for five seconds.
I lose it immediately.
“Where did it go?” I whisper.
Nicole squints. “The puck? Right there.”
“That tells me nothing.”
She laughs.
Honestly I am not even watching the puck or whatever. I am watching Damien.
He moves differently. Even I can see that and I know nothing about this sport.
He skates like the ice listens to him. Strong legs pushing, thighs flexing every time he changes direction. His chest rises under that tight shirt and every time he twists, the fabric stretches over muscle that absolutely did not need to exist like that.
Goodness!
When he stops abruptly, his biceps tighten around the stick and my brain very helpfully imagines those same arms wrapped around my waist.
Pulling me in.
Holding me there.
Lifting me.
I shift on the bench awkwardly.
Nicole slowly turns toward me. “You are not watching practice.”
“I am,” I lie.
“You are staring at him.”
“I am observing athletic movement.”
“You want him to move on top of you.”
“NICOLE.”
She laughs so loud I have to elbow her.
On the ice, Jack misses something. I think. The puck flies somewhere wrong and even I can tell it was bad because Damien skates toward him.
Damien looks f*****g pissed.
Oh boy.
- Writer
