Page 2 of Scarred

“Nope,” he says without hesitation, but his tense body language tells me something else.

Thane McCormick has always been hard to read. Outside of hockey, he mostly keeps to himself and never talks about his personal life. Even after playing with him for the past four years, I still don’t know much about him.

I’m not one to pry into other people’s business. Lord knows how I hate it when people try to get into mine, so I’ve never pressed him when he diverts any question thrown his way. All I need to know is that we have each other’s backs on the ice, and I can say with certainty that McCormick doesn’t leave the ice after a game unless every last ounce of blood and sweat is given.

Glancing up, I see Foxx and Kane weave through the crowd, heads above everyone else. To say that our starting lineup is intimidating is an understatement. All six of us dominate the ice with our size and appearance, making it nearly impossible to blend in with the crowd when we are all together.

“Where have you two been?” I ask, glancing at them as they both take a seat next to us.

“Coach made us stay late for interviews,” Kane sighs, loosening his collar and rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, revealing dark ink underneath.

“Where’s Hayes?” Foxx asks, grabbing the bottle of bourbon on the table and pouring a small amount into two glass tumblers before handing one to Kane.

“Thanks.” Kane leans back in the chair and takes a strong pull of the drink.

“He’s over there,” I nod to the table where Hayes is.

“Well, shit,” he grins. “He started without me.”

Taking his drink with him, he walks over to join Hayes.

Settling back, I listen to Kane and McCormick discuss our upcoming game in a couple of days, but the conversation just washes over me without really hearing it. Glasses clink, and laughter spills out around me in a distant haze in the background. It’s like I’m sitting behind a thick glass wall, watching a life I no longer feel like I’m a part of.

My gaze drifts past the bar, past the women draped over the high-tops, and lands on one of the curtained booths along the wall with the fabric curtain tied back just enough to see inside.

A dark-haired guy sits with a brunette tucked by his side. She’s curled into him like she belongs there, and wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. A glint of a diamond shines briefly on her left hand, catching my eye as she raises the wine glass to her lips.

His fingers move absently along her bare shoulder as he leans down to whisper something in her ear, causing her face to light up in a smile.

Not a forced smile that I find myself doing often, but a real one.

One that can only be done out of pure happiness…out of love.

He presses a kiss to her temple, and my grip tightens around the glass.

Something in my chest shifts, not out of jealousy, but a memory.

And that’s so much fucking worse.

Downing my drink, I stand up, needing to get out of here and already feeling the weight of the past wanting to suffocate me. Not even the burn of the alcohol can cut through the heaviness spreading through my chest as the ghosts from two years ago find me.

“I’m going to head out.” I grab my jacket off the back of my chair and reach into my wallet, throwing a hundred on the table.

“Already?” Kane asks. “We just got here.”

“I told Mae I wouldn’t be out long tonight,” I say the lie with ease. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

McCormick eyes me intently, sensing my sudden mood shift, but remains silent as I walk away, knowing it’s useless to get any more out of me.

Walking through the crowd, I push open the door and step outside. The cool air of February slams into me as I take big lungfuls, trying to keep my demons at bay.

Keeping my head down to avoid any recognition, I head straight to my black SUV parked on the other side of the parking lot and climb in, shutting the door and sealing myself in silence.

My hands curl tight around the steering wheel as I squeeze my eyes closed, bracing for it and having no way to stop what I know is coming, as images slam into me with brutal force.

Kissing her goodbye for the last time.

The warmth of our lips lingering like we had all the time in the world.