Chapter 1

"Lexington! We're all heading to Johnny's after showers. You in?" Armstrong shouts from across the locker room. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I can think of a million other places I'd rather be tonight. Practice went smoothly, but my body is killing me and if I'm going to be ready for this season, my aching muscles need proper rest. On the other hand, I know how it will look to the team and the coach if I don't show up.

Tipping my chin up to him, I smirk and reply, "Sure thing, I'll meet you guys there."

Johnny's is the local sports bar. For years, it's been known to be the hangout spot of the NYU Makos hockey team.

My team.

This is my first year with the captain patch, and not showing up to celebrate the start of the season with the guys just wouldn't look right. Image is important, especially when your goal is to make it to the NHL. My entire life has been about hockey and how to ensure I make it to the big leagues. Growing up on the Upper East Side, money was never a problem, and as one could imagine, it meant my parents made sure I was always in the best schools and training camps. They spared no expense. The moment I was old enough to hold a stick in my hand, hockey became my life whether I wanted it to or not.

Don't get me wrong; I love hockey. I live, eat, and breathe the sport, and I share their dream of me making it to the NHL, but that isn't where their control over my future stops. My parents seem to think they need to control every aspect of my life because if, heaven forbid, anything messes up their big plans, they'll need multiple backup plans. The fancy car, the designer clothes, and even the friends they forced on me as a child have all pushed me further into the public eye and into the right crowds to get me where I am today. Am I thankful? Sure, but I'm also resentful. Part of me feels like they didn't think I was good enough to get where I am on skill alone, and to be honest, that shit hurts.

It hurts about as much as my constant getting into shit and fighting hurts my parents.

"Duke seems to be showing signs of violent tendencies."

That's what the social worker told my parents the last time. She's not wrong. I'm only human, and holding in my feelings takes its toll. Eventually, I snap just like everyone else. More often than most, apparently, but hey, I can't be good at everything.

Their doubt in me is the fuel to my aggression. Well, part of it. The rest of it comes from Olivia, the girl my parents set me up with in our freshman year at NYU because her family was "up to their standards" and had an abundance of money. The same Olivia who ended up fucking my best friend and breaking my heart less than six months later. We're still together, in the public eye anyway, because ending it meant not only letting my parents down yet again but also pissing off my coach, who just so happens to be Liv's dad.

Liv keeps our arrangement between us, but she doesn't like it. She's made it clear she wants me back and is convinced I'll come crawling back to her in time. Not a chance. I draw the line at cheating and lying, but I'm willing to pretend if it keeps me on the roster and my parents off my back.

Packing away my gear, I grab my body wash along with the white towel from the metal hook in my locker and then head to the shower stalls at the back of the locker room. Most of the team has already taken off, including my best friend Hawke Hamilton, the best left winger in our league. Knowing him, he dipped out early with Nolan Armstrong, eager to get the first dibs on the puck bunnies that surely await our arrival. Reaching one of the empty stalls, I step inside, not bothering to close the curtain behind me, and place my body wash on the wall beside me before I turn on the faucet. A hiss slips from my lips as streams of ice-cold water cascade down my body for a few brief seconds before it warms up and finally hits the scalding temperature I love. Closing my eyes, I step under the water, running my hands through my dark hair as it rushes over me.

"Are you kidding me?" The echoing shout from one of the guys hits my ears. Snapping my eyes open, I watch as Grant Stone rushes towards the showers in nothing more than a pair of Calvin Klein briefs with his phone in his hand. His blonde shoulder-length hair is still slick and sticking to his neck and shoulders as he saunters in.

"What the fuck are you on about, Stone?" Stanley, our defenseman, laughs from a few shower stalls down.

"The Knights are at Johnny's, man. Tell me that's not some slap-to-the-face shit," Stone snaps. Grabbing my bottle of Old Spice body wash, I squirt some into my hand before rubbing my hands along my skin, spreading the lather around my body.

The Boston University Knights.

Normally, I wouldn't give a fuck about them being in our side of town, let alone our spot. But this year, they"re being led by my childhood rival. Ace Anderson. I have no doubt this little visit to Johnny's is his way of stirring the pot, testing the waters to see if he can get me to blow up and get me kicked from a few games.

"You're joking, right?" Stanley laughs. "Well, looks like their new captain has more balls than the last one then, eh?"

"No. It's all over Twitter, man. They have to know we're going to show up there, right? I mean, Johnny's is Makos territory." It's clear from the tone of Stone's voice he isn't happy.

Stone is the pitbull of the team. He's a young freshman, eager to prove to us and the coach that he deserves to be here. What he hasn't figured out is we already know he does. I've yet to see a puck make its way past him and reach Stanley. The kid is talented as fuck.

Letting my head fall back, I stand beneath the water, rinsing the suds from my body.

"Oh for sure. They're probably counting on it, but the question is, how are we gonna respond?" Jace asks. Without even opening my eyes, I know the question is directed at me.

Being captain means that the team follows me, and though it should only be on the ice, the respect and brotherhood the guys and I have built translates off the ice as well. No one will react to the Knights being at Johnny's unless I say so. No matter how badly they want to. Luckily for them, if there"s one thing I've grown to love over the years besides hockey, it's fucking with Ace Anderson and his plans.

"I think the real question is, boys, are you ready to go hunting?" I respond.

"Fuck yeah!" Stone shouts, slamming his hand down on one of the rusty red steel lockers.

"We're going to show them how Makos greets unwanted fish in our waters," I add as I turn the shower faucet off. Grabbing the towel from the ledge, I wrap it around my waist and head toward my locker. I guess how I'm spending the night has been decided for me. There"s no way I'm missing out on a chance to mess with Ace, especially when he's the one who came here looking for it. Knights don't belong in Makos territory, and the fucker knows it, but I'm happy to play his little game.

The guys head out one by one, knocking their knuckles against mine as they pass by me. Alone, the locker room is so quiet and empty that every sound echoes, including the sound of my bag as I zip it up before throwing it over my shoulder. I take one last look at my jersey with the captain's patch hanging in my locker before slamming the door closed and making my way out of the locker room.

"Jesus, what took you so long?" Liv snaps with an impatient tone as she pushes off the wall and makes her way toward me.

Fuck.

Just when I thought I could get away without having to see her face tonight.

"What are you doing here, Liv?" I reply in a hushed tone. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. The scent of expensive perfume is so thick, and the moment she presses her botox-injected lips against mine, I wanna puke. Don't get me wrong, Liv is good-looking, but nothing about her is real, except the brand name shit she parades around in, like it makes her a fucking goddess that everyone should bow down to. I was naive enough to fall for her facade, but that shit was a long time ago. Now, I see her for what she is.

Pulling back, I head out of the arena and towards my car. "What kind of question is that? Obviously, I'm going to Johnny's with you, Duke," she adds demandingly as she struggles to keep up with her Louis Vuitton heels on. No doubt the news of the Knights being at Johnny's has spread, and Liv may be an idiot, but even she knows that as captain, I can't not show up—not with rivals in our spot. "You know Daddy would just ask questions if you showed up without me."

"He isn't even going to be there. It's just me and the guys, and quite frankly, it's already going to be a shit show, and I'd rather not have to keep up with your bullshit, too."

"Wow, Duke, I'm offended. Is this really how you're going to speak to me? Your girlfriend?" She scoffs, hooking her arms around mine as I drag her beside me. "Besides, he already knows I'm going with you, obviously. Otherwise, I'd have gotten a ride home with him after practice. You looked good out there today."

"Don't pretend to give a shit about how I look on the ice, Olivia. And for the last time, you're not my fucking girlfriend. You mean fuck all to me, and you know it."

"Oh, come on, Duke." She stops, pausing in the middle of the dark parking lot. "You can't hate me forever. I made one mistake, okay? One. I'm not fucking perfect, and neither are you!" she shouts.

I roll my eyes as I pop open the trunk of my 2023 matte black Lexus 300 F, then toss my bag and stick inside before slamming it closed. We've had this argument a million times already, and while I agree that neither of us is perfect, there's no excuse for the hurt she caused me. No excuse for lying or cheating.

"Jesus, Liv. Will you give it up already? I don't fucking care. You did what you did, and we're done."

"Yeah, right. Everywhere except the public eye, though, right? Cause you need me, and you know it. How long will Daddy let you keep that captain"s patch once he finds out you broke his precious baby girl"s heart, hmm?" she hisses as she brings herself to stand before me. I look down on her as she runs her fake nail across my chest, but I push her away. I know she's right, and I don't fucking like it.

My jaw clicks with anger. "Get in the fucking car and shut up," I reply through tightly clenched teeth. She smirks, content in knowing she fucking won, yet again. She always does.

Liv does as she's told and climbs into the passenger seat. Leaning against the trunk, my head falls back, and my eyes find their way to the deep blue night sky. It's clear, and the cool fall air is crisp. I'm stuck. As much as I hate this arrangement we have, I can't do a fucking thing about it. What I can do is direct my frustrations at Ace and his little gang of Knights that seem to have found their way into Makos waters.

Climbing into my car, I start it up and rev the engine before pulling out of the lot and heading to Johnny's.

Let's get this shit over with.