Chapter 33 - Oliver

I 've been hiding in the shadows for about ten minutes, waiting for Hunter to notice me. I stuck around after the game, when I heard why he fought Dylan. Never in a million years would I have thought he'd be this jealous of someone else—or maybe I'm just lying to myself. He's always been possessive of me. But seeing it in real-time? The way he punched Dylan repeatedly for calling me his boyfriend and talking about us fucking…it brought me a deep sense of accomplishment.

I can't lie, this is what I've been waiting for since we became estranged. For a reaction— any reaction. And now that I have it, I wish it would happen again and again and again. I don't want him to stop because even if it's temporary, right now, I know he cares about me. Even if it's just a little bit, he can't even deny it at this point. His behavior speaks volumes on its own, no matter what he says. His words mean nothing to me right now.

The only problem with his little stunt is that he's now suspended from two games. That may not seem like a lot to an outsider, but that's two chances to be noticed by the NHL scouts, and I know that has to hurt. Playing professional hockey has always been Hunter's dream, even if he doesn't talk about it much. He confessed it to me one night when we were lying in my bed, whispering about the future. Hunter said he wanted to play for the Hurricanes so that he could stay close to me. I wonder if his dreams have changed. Now, he probably wants to be away from me. The other side of the country is probably still not far enough.

My dreams haven't changed, but maybe I won't stay in North Carolina. Especially if Hunter isn't here. I'm still holding on to a tiny shred of hope that things will go back to the way they used to be once upon a time. That he will realize I still love him. Goddamn, I love him, and I want him back so bad it hurts.

For a while, I thought rehab would heal me, but man, was I ever wrong. Not only could I not be cured of my addiction to Oxy, but I definitely couldn't be cured of my addiction to him . And I don't think I'll ever recover. There's no program out there for pathetic lovesick people like me—and fuck, I'm still star-struck. If he knew the level of fucked up I am over him, he'd probably laugh and use it against me. Which is why I've been steering clear of him. So why the fuck am I here watching him like a stalker? Why do I feel the urge to get on the ice and go after him? To ask him why? Why did he beat someone up for me?

I watch Hunter shoot puck after puck into the net, his back to me. I'm standing behind him now, having abandoned the shadows. The doors are open, and I have the sudden urge to step onto the ice, even if it's with no skates. It's been a while since I helped him practice, at least three years, but I'd do anything for an ounce of his attention right now.

"I can feel you there," Hunter murmurs, his voice echoing. "Why are you here? Came to gloat?"

"Why would you think that?" I ask him, my brows furrowing in confusion. I could never be happy about his failures or his unhappiness. In fact, it brings me pain to know that he's going to miss out on something so important to him. Even if that was at the expense of my validation.

"I'm suspended, and it's your fault." He chuckles, and it brings goosebumps to my skin even though I'm wearing a thick jacket. It's always cold in this place, so I don't know how the hell he's only wearing base layers right now. He's probably used to it, considering he spends half of his time in this place. "You happy now?"

"My fault?" I scoff. "I didn't ask you to get into that fight. You didn't have to defend my honor."

"Defend your honor?" He laughs. "There's nothing honorable about someone who lets everyone stick their dick inside of them."

"So you're slut shaming me?" I narrow my eyes at him, but he won't turn around. "Why are you actually beating people up? Is your girlfriend not doing her job, and now you gotta take it out on everyone?"

Hunter's shoulders tense, and this time, he turns around. "She's not my girlfriend anymore," he admits, and my stomach drops. This knowledge—he shouldn't have said anything. Because now I'm gonna be all in my head about it. Why did they break up? "Did you really have to fuck my teammate?"

I bristle, and I don't know how I felt bad for him initially, but now I'm just fucking angry. My hands shake, and I fist them at my sides. "I'm sorry that was so inconvenient for you," I retort. "Next time, I'll make sure you don't know him."

His nostrils flare. "There will be no next time, Oliver."

This time I'm the one who laughs, because who the fuck does he think he is? "Last time I checked, you can't tell me who I let inside me, Hunter." I shrug. "You're just mad because you had the chance and passed it up."

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" I take a deep breath and let it out, and he just watches me with a frown. His confusion would be comical if it didn't match mine. But now I want to know, where the fuck is the guy from last night? The one who kissed my forehead and put me to sleep? I hate this. I hate this so much. But he doesn't let me answer, instead, he continues. "It's all your fault. Ever since you came back, you've been ruining my life all over again, Oliver."

I flinch and close my eyes, and when I open them, his face looks pained. "Stop fucking calling me Oliver!" I snap. "Stop pretending last night didn't fucking happen!"

"Then you stop acting like everything is fine!" Hunter skates in place, spinning around in a circle while clutching his hair. He looks distraught, but it doesn't do anything for me anymore. He doesn't know my pain, won't even acknowledge it. "Nothing is going to change. You did this to us!"

"Oh yeah?" I scoff. "Tell me, Hunt. What did I do now?" Only I already know the answer. No matter what I say to explain myself, I'm always going to be the guy who killed his mom. And fuck, that knowledge is a stab to my heart.

"You left me all alone, Ollie," he chokes out, and my heart beats a little faster. This isn't Hunter, no. This is Green talking. This is my boy. My everything. "I'm all alone in this shitty life because of you ."

Taking a step closer, I meet the edge of the rink where the ice starts. I already know it's slippery, but the urge to be near him, to hold him, is stronger than common sense. So I step onto the ice, and he watches me intently. "I'm sorry, Hunt," I whisper, barely audible. My heart is a drum in my ears, and my hands are sweating. I don't even know why I'm so nervous. This is what I wanted all along—to get through to him. "If I could take it back—if I could do it over again, I'd change everything ."

But then I do the stupidest thing I've ever done.

I walk toward him.

The ice is slippery under my Vans, but I still take another step. He doesn't meet me, in fact, he stays rooted in place. I can tell he's fighting something inside himself, but he doesn't give in. He won't give in to me. It pains me as much as it relieves me. The heartache that comes with the confusion isn't worth it, that much I know. But damn it, I crave it on a cellular level. I just want one more hit. One . So, I take another step forward.

Flailing in place, I'm about to fall on my ass—but Hunter is faster, gliding over to me and holding me up out of some twisted instinct. It has to be that, because the possibility that he's actually worried about me is slim to none. But then he does something completely unexpected—he backs me up against the boards, my head meeting the cold glass of the wall.

"Why can't you just leave?" He asks softly, his eyes pleading. "Just get out and not come back ever again?"

I focus on his green orbs and the way they are dilating. They tell me they want me, and fuck, I just can't hold back anymore. I want him—I need him. "I don't want to."

"You're so fucking selfish." Hunter wraps a hand around my neck, slamming my head against the glass once. Fuck, give me more, Hunter. I want the pain.

"No." I manage to shake my head even with his grip on my neck, and it loosens slightly. "If I was selfish, I'd take what I want."

"What do you want?" he whispers, searching my eyes, his lips parted, chest heaving.

Stop holding back, baby.

"Don't act like you don't know," I reply through gritted teeth.

Hunter presses forward, resting his forehead against mine and breathing hard. His pants echo in my ears, even louder than my heartbeat. The glass behind my head is cold, but I focus on him, on his warm breaths against my lips. I part them, inviting him to take what I know he wants. Because I crave it too—fuck, I'm going insane over him. I don't want to stay away anymore. I just want to hold him close and never let him go.

His nose brushes against mine, and he closes his eyes. It takes me a second to do the same, but as soon as I do, he leans closer, his lips brushing against mine. They're so soft and warm, and when he presses them against mine, my stomach flutters. Fuck, he's kissing me gently, timidly. He's actually doing it.

And I want more .

My hands find his back, and they travel down to his ass, pulling him in. Hunter whimpers. Fucking whimpers for me, and the sound goes straight to my cock. But he pulls his face away too quickly, leaving me wanting, fucking torturing me.

"Don't stop. Please ," I beg him, my lips brushing against his. He's fighting this, us. And I want him to give in so badly, if only just right now. We can go back to how things were five minutes ago after this. I just need it one more time. Just one. "Fucking fill this void inside of me," I whisper. "Make me yours again."

Hunter leans in again and sucks my piercing into his mouth, biting my lip as he releases it. My cock twitches again, pressed up against his, and I can feel his growing hard length jumping along with mine. "You've never stopped being mine, Blue."

Then he crashes his lips against mine.

I part my lips, inviting him in, but he doesn't take the bait. So instead, I brush my tongue against the seam of his. He groans, fighting it. It's only when I grind my cock against his, he gives in, letting me tangle my tongue with his. The electricity coursing through my body at the contact is threatening to burn me alive, and when he lets go of my neck and grabs my ass, rubbing me harder against him, I moan.

We're a panting mess, rubbing and grinding against each other. I lick his tongue, suck on his lips, bite on them, and he gives me more and more. He meets me hit for hit, returning the kiss with a fervor that has my toes curling and my back arching. And when he slips his hand into the back of my jeans and grabs my ass in one firm squeeze, I groan.

Hunter's finger teases my crease, and he dips between my ass cheeks and presses against my rim. There's no fucking lube, but if he wants it, I'll give it to him. I'd give him anything , and I'm fucking desperate to have him inside of me.

"Fuck, Ollie," he whispers as he pulls away, like he's telling me a secret only we are in on. "I missed that."

I know he will regret this later, so I lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips again, wanting to memorize everything about this moment. Because I know I'm going to replay it later when I'm in my room alone, unable to sleep. I'm probably never sleeping again after this. "It's yours," I say softly, pressing yet another kiss to his lips. Fuck, I don't want this to end. "I'm yours."

"I know." He smiles, teasing my ass again. " Mine ."

And fuck if those words don't destroy something inside of me.

As if he just snaps out of our little love spell, he releases me suddenly and steps back, a grimace on his face. And without another word, he skates away. Like I've fucking burned him.

Well, guess what?

He just burned me, too.