23

"I like me better when I'm with You."

Asher

I had my hockey gear set out before me as I laced my skates. I thought I'd forgotten how to do it, but it was like muscle memory. The surrounding team was in high spirits as they joked around, but I couldn't shake off the knots in the pit of my stomach. It had been almost a year since I'd stepped foot on the ice after I'd sworn never to go anywhere near it again. The thought of breaking that promise put me in unease.

This is for Sawyer.I reminded myself. I wasn't doing this for anyone but Sawyer. She'd put a lot of effort into this, and my brother and his vapid friends ruined it for her.

"I never thought I'd see Asher Hart on the ice again."

Kellan's voice pulled me from my probing thoughts. He had his shoulder pressed against the locker, grinning down at me as if I were a lost child.

"Don't get used to it." I said. "This is a one-time thing."

"I had no idea you played hockey." Noah piped in.

I reached for my stick and some tape to distract myself from the imploring gazes.

"I find bragging to be tasteless." I said with a smirk.

"He quit."

Josh's words hung in the air like a dagger, stabbing at my pride. I glanced at him from under my lashes. Rage filled his eyes, but I didn't let his words affect me.

"You call it quitting. I call it coming to my senses."

He folded his arms across his chest.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I kept my focus on taping my stick, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting me worked up.

"It means that I stopped seeking Dad's acceptance," I said. "You should try it sometime. It's invigorating."

"You're so full of yourself, Asher."

Before the situation could escalate further, the team intervened. Noah stepped between us, blocking us from each other's heated glare.

"Let's just focus on the game."

With a last glare over Noah's shoulder, Josh begrudgingly stepped back. I stood up and grabbed my stick. They all looked at me as if I was about to hit Josh over the head with it. It was tempting, but I put on my best smile. I could get my revenge on the ice.

"Let's go, team."

??

In the heart of the crowded arena, Josh and I faced off on opposing teams. Our eyes locked in a fierce glare as we waited for the game to begin. Once it did, the noise of the crowd faded and all I could hear was the sound of blades slicing against the ice. The puck reached me, and I kept my eyes on it as I glided it across the ice. The opposing team closed in on me, but I remained calm. With a swift flick of the stick, I sent the puck soaring towards the net. It collided with a resounding thud. The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, but I ignored them and sent a wink Josh's way.

Game on.I mouthed to him before joining my team in a huddle.

The first period was reaching its climax, but I wanted to end it with one more goal. Kellan handed me the puck and I pressed forward with unabated determination. I saw an opportunity and charged toward the net. Before I could raise my stick for a shot, Josh swooped in and stole the puck away before blasting it down the ice. With a powerful shot, he sent it past the goalie.

As the game wore on into the second period, the animosity between me and Joshua reached a boiling point. Each collision on the ice led to more frustration. Every time I had the puck, he would be there breathing down my neck. The third time he shoved me into the barricade, I snapped.

"Do you want to fight, little brother?" I asked. "I can arrange that."

"What's the matter, Asher?" He asked. "Are you upset that I'm better at hockey than you?"

I scoffed at his transparent inferiority complex.

"Please, I haven't played in over a year, and I still outshine you." I said. "Even your girlfriend is cheering for me. I saved what you ruined, after all."

Our eyes locked as our competitive spirits fuelled the flames of rivalry and hatred. He smirked before slamming into me and shoved me against the barrier. He skated away, but I followed him with fierce determination. In the middle of the ice, we met in a thunderous collision; the impact sending us backward. Gloves dropped as I charged for him. The crowd's bellows reached a deafening crescendo as we delivered punches. Every blow was a testament to our year-long rivalry. Our teammates rushed in, attempting to separate us, but our determination to harm each other was too strong. Blood trickled from our split lips, and bruises were forming on my already battered skin. Once the team separated us, they escorted us to the penalty box, but the glass failed to separate us from our intense glares.