13. Hunter

"But the game always ends. The high wears off and you realize you're all alone. You wouldn't know chivalry if it bit you in the ass."

Tyler's words played themselves in a loop—a loop of hell… but one of truth. And it fucking hurt. It was the same kind of pain that hit me when I woke up without him next to me. I was all alone. Sure, I had Kins and if she called for help I would take off running. I didn't call anyone for help. No one needed to be caught in my storm. I'd rather protect those I care about and stay alone, wallowing in my own pool of self-pity when it all came crashing down around me.

I began stripping at my stall, ignoring the sound of the locker room door opening. I knew it was him without even looking—I could feel every time he entered a room—and I didn't dare look his way. I wished I'd never bumped into him. I wish he'd stayed in Australia. The only thing he accomplished was bringing up everything I'd worked so hard to ignore. Colton was right: I self-sabotaged, I did in high school, and I was on a one-track path to doing it again.

I felt his body buzzing beside mine, noticeably angrier than when I left him. It made me wonder what Colt said after I'd left.

Don't start caring. It doesn't matter.

"Hunter…" Considering he was hurling verbal bullets at me mere minutes ago, his voice was surprisingly gentle.

"Don't bother, Tyler. You were right. Let's just focus on being teammates." My voice lacked any hint of emotion.

"No, I need to apologize. I was an absolute cunt. I don't know you—not the real you. You were good to me and… I freaked out. I knew that we'd never be more than teammates and that scared me. I… I never speak to people the way I spoke to you, and I hate that I did."

I snickered, attempting to hold back my laughter. "Did you seriously just call yourself a cunt?" Maybe it was the tension in the air or him having the balls to apologize, but I couldn't contain it.

"I'm sorry… I forgot Australians have potty mouths compared to you—but it's the truth I snapped at you because you hit a nerve…"

I laughed, truly laughed for what felt like the first time. I was laughing at the guy in front of me, sweaty hair falling in his face as he called himself all the wrong names. And damn it if it didn't make him even more perfect. What would it take for this man to show me just one flaw? "Okay, okay—apology accepted. You can stop insulting yourself."

Tyler huffed. "Noted, while we're warning each other—" The door busted open before he could finish and the team piled in, shouting about girls and the normal drunken stories that came with a Monday practice.

I wanted to beg Tyler to keep talking, but Colton gave us his telltale whistle that meant sit down and shut up. I zoned out as he gave his normal spiel about the weekend being over and how we needed to focus. We had the Yale boys on our turf this week, which meant we had to stay on our toes. They'd had a few bad seasons and were looking to make a comeback. We were number four on the board and we needed to be number one. If we won this game, it would set a precedent for the Harvard game—they were tailing us on the leaderboard. Like us, both teams had fresh meat on their roster. Yale had some forwards that would contend with Colton and Tyler, and I knew Colton needed to outshine them to be noticed, but it wouldn't hurt for Tyler to get on their radar as well.

I didn't have my doubts about these next few games, as long as we kept up as we had been. However, what did make me nervous was the upcoming game against Merrimack. Particularly the presence of their defenseman, Zane Matthews. Zane and I had a past, one that could potentially influence the outcome of the game. My attention zoned in on Colton momentarily as he mentioned Zane by name. His expression spoke volumes, and the warning in his eyes was crystal clear: "Do not mess this up for us again." I nodded in understanding, sensing the weight of a particular Aussie player's curiosity.

Tyler's ability to read me was remarkable. He scowled in Colton's direction, oblivious to the fact that he had every reason to be upset with me. Despite Tyler's sharp tongue and the occasional bruised heart, his loyalty ran deep. In the end, he stuck to his word—I was his teammate. It was becoming increasingly apparent to me—and I suspect to many others on the team—that Tyler Riley would go to great lengths to protect his teammates.

As soon as my skates touched the ice, the tension faded from my body. The familiar earthy scent and my skates slicing through the frozen surface beneath me let all my worries melt away. My muscles relaxed and my mind cleared. I couldn't help but notice Tyler's occasional glances in my direction as we warmed up. I didn't get the sense that he was checking me out, more like he wanted to know if I was okay. I nodded in acknowledgment, and he visibly relaxed.

We were split into pairs for drills. Colton was partnered with Tyler, no doubt because of their speed. I had noticed a vast improvement in our speed—perhaps something to do with our new Australian teammate. Tyler trained with figure skaters, which wasn't unheard of. Many athletes trained with others in different sports to enhance flexibility and fluidity.

Tyler possessed a unique blend of grace and grit, moving at lightning speed before stopping on a dime, rotating, and propelling in the opposite direction like no one else I had seen. He navigated both sides of the blue line with tremendous confidence. He was never unafraid to deliver a hit, using his speed to catch opponents off guard before seamlessly returning to the play. Tyler frequently interacted with everyone else, offering tips on blade placement, leg angles, and demonstrating the techniques in the drills.

Coach didn't overlook Tyler's contributions or the team members willing to try something new. There were occasional stumbles as players adjusted to a slightly different gait, but Tyler was right by their side to pick them up if they fell.

"You better get that look off your face," Colton pushed my shoulder with his. I looked over and watched the tick in his jaw.

"What look? Can't I admire someone doing your job better than you?" I spoke nothing but the truth. Tyler would captain the team one day. Whether anyone liked it or not, they couldn't hold a candle to him.

"Fuck off. He can give all the pointers he wants but he's rattling the foundation we built this team on and you look at him like he's your next meal. We've finally recovered from your mistakes, Hunt. I don't want a repeat. That whole fallout made me miss the call to go into the leagues early, made me have to prove myself. I've put in a lot more work than your little Aussie. He didn't do the camps or the coaching skills classes. He didn't get a degree in sports psychology to read his players better. I did. I put in the work. I deserve this. I won't have our team crumbling because of you."

I saw it then, the same expression he gave me in the kitchen that made my skin crawl. We never really had big issues. We grew up close, we were always on the same teams. We were always a team on the ice and I thought we had each other's backs. He kept my secret from the team and turned a blind eye to me experimenting with my sexuality. Though as I noted that angry gleam in his eye, I saw something familiar. Something that had alarm bells sounding in my head.