Page 315 of Power Play

“Good.”

“It doesn’t.”

The answer landed harder than I expected.

Briggs looked back at me. “You love her, and she loves you. None of that changes the fact that she left you standing alone when you needed her.”

My throat closed.

He stepped onto the ice. “You’re done. I heard you the first time.”

I followed because letting Briggs skate alone on my rink felt more offensive than his presence.

He grabbed one of the spare sticks and tested the flex. “That’s a defenseman’s stick.”

“It’s a stick.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“You punched me in the face while wearing hockey gloves.”

“I’m improvising.”

“You’re doing great.”

I skated straight at him. Briggs barely lowered the blade before I stripped the puck away and drove toward the net.

He chased me, which was exactly what I needed.

I cut toward the boards as he closed the angle. My shoulder dropped a second before we collided, and the impact rattled through both of us. Briggs grunted, but he remained upright.

I kept skating.

“Cheap,” he called.

“Keep up.”

He did.

The next time I touched the puck, Briggs stepped into me first. His shoulder caught mine and drove me sideways. My skate slipped, and I hit the boards hard enough to jar my teeth.

Something inside me came alive.

I spun toward him. “What the fuck?”

“Hockey.”

I shoved him, and Briggs shoved me back harder.

The rage I had been trying to skate out finally had a target willing to survive it.

I grabbed the front of his shirt. “You think showing up makes you understand?”

“No.”

“You think losing people makes this the same?”

“No.”