Page 23 of Vibes

I scowl. The coach already chewed my ass out before I even made it on the ice, and I don’t want to be reprimanded in front of the team. Right now, I’m the odd one out. Ronaldo’s chill, but he’s not going to stick his neck out for me like Flynn or Jaxen. With the rest of my friends MIA, I’m on my own. That’s not something I’ve had to contend with in college.

“Sorry, Coach,” I grumble, unsure what else he wants to hear from me. He knows I want to play, and that right now the team needs me. I’ll bust my ass to be on the ice Friday.

He blows out a breath. “Let’s run it again! Haberman, c’mere.”

Sighing I grab my shit off the ice and skate ahead to the benches, pausing against the wall while Coach finishes crossing behind me. When I glance up Iris is closer to the glass than she was before, her brows knit with worry. She’s no longer taking notes, and her glasses look to be in danger of tipping right off her nose.

I have no idea what I look like. Is there blood? Sometimes chicks dig that. I shoot her a grin, dragging my tongue across the back of my teeth when I taste copper. Yeah, definitely blood.

“Listen up Haberman,” Coach says, and I immediately look away from Iris. “You need to get your head out of your ass and focus. Want to share where your friends are hiding out? Your teammates said you aren’t worried, and they’ll be back soon. Are you purposefully trying to screw the team? Do you know what kind of havoc this is causing for the damn school? Your families?”

I feign a smile. My phone is currently charging in the locker room, and I’ll raise literal hell if anyone tries to fuck with it once practice ends. It locks and all that shit, but my teammates keep shooting me accusatory glances like the five of us planned to fuck around all week and put our team standing in jeopardy. I barely had time to shoot my parents a text, telling them we got a little too wild and to not worry about me, I’d get my head on straight and all that shit. I even took a locker room selfie before I ran out here as proof of life, because my mom is paranoid like that. At some point I’ll have to surf through the missed calls and texts, but for now, it’ll have to do.

Texting an excuse about my disappearance is easier than facing the questions in real life. Those are proving harder to dodge. I lied my ass off when people started asking, because if the others are suffering because of Cora, they should be returning soon. That’s going to be an ongoing question. “Not with me. I took a few days to blow off steam. Things were… messy. It won’t happen again.”

He gives me an unconvincing look, and I’m not sure he buys it. “That girl you brought today, is she part of the problem?”

Blinking, I didn’t realize that Coach even picked up on that. He notices things about us on the ice, how we interact and if there’s some sort of massive drama happening within the school, but he never asks about girls. Relationships are something he stays far away from when it comes to anyone on the team, and I don’t think he’s ever asked me about one of the puck bunnies.

Iris isn’t a bunny.

My gaze shifts unbidden to Iris again. Practice is winding down, and she must be able to tell as the other bystanders begin collecting their things. I’m late, but that doesn’t mean they’ll extend practice for one lousy player.

“She’s not part of the problem,” I say carefully, dragging my eyes away from my wallflower once more. “I’m hoping she’ll be the solution.”

~~~

Iris is standing awkwardly in the hallway when I get out of the changing room, clutching her bag like someone might steal it. She doesn’t look bothered per se, but I can tell from the way she’s rocking back and forth that she’s more than ready to go.

I smirk when her eyes laser in on mine. The black eye was not part of my plan and seeing anything akin to worry in her eyes as she studies my face makes my lip hook up in a grin. Consequences be damned, it’s cute watching my little wallflower fret when I’ve taken harder hits from the opposing team countless times before. Even scouts wouldn’t care much about this, and so long as someone didn’t blurt out that I got the shiner from brawling with my own team no one would bat an eye. With how abysmal our stats are right now I’m not too concerned about someone caring to come out and see us for Friday. It’s a depressing thought.

Considering she’s been here for a couple hours, putting up with the bunnies and listening to Coach shout things at us that I haven’t been able to explain, I expect Iris to be completely done with today. I need to woo her and get her on my side before this damn curse kicks in again—

My thoughts stop when she reaches up, her fingertips lightly tracing around my eye. It’s just a little sensitive right now, nothing dramatic yet. “Now I remember why I don’t watch hockey.”

That piques my interest, and she hesitates for another moment before she steps back and pivots away. Her hurried steps carry her towards the exit, and I take long strides to keep pace with her. “The fights? They’re part of the game, wallflower.”

She winces but keeps walking, keeping her gaze ahead of us instead of looking at me. For once she doesn’t seem to even acknowledge my little nickname for her, and I can’t help thinking she’s getting comfortable with it. “People really like watching two guys fight?”

I laugh, the sound echoing around us in the empty building. Most of the guys took off quickly, and I purposefully didn’t leave with Abe so we didn’t try and brawl again. “It’s part of the spectacle. Some people are here for the game itself, some for the fighting.”

“I don’t see the appeal in watching people punch each other,” she sighs, letting me hold the door as we step out. Without the sun it’s bitter cold in Colorado at this hour, and she immediately hugs herself as the wind slaps into us. Half the time after practice I don’t even mind the cold, but right now it’s really inconvenient.

I tuck her into my side as we jog to her car, and for once she isn’t shoving me away. By the time we’re inside and she’s turning on the heat, her teeth are chattering, but at least the abrasive wind is gone.

Her interior lights are on, and I catch her eyes drifting over my body. It’s nice when she admires me. It makes up for all the times I’ve had an inferiority complex when she’s holding me as a vibrator.

Nibbling her lip, she taps her fingers against the steering wheel as we wait for the car to warm up. “About your apology…”

I quirk a brow, tossing everything into her backseat as I wait and see if she’s going to continue. “A little preemptive, wallflower. I think you need to be breaking apart for that to matter, right?” I glance around. “Everyone’s gone, so if you like a little car sex—”

“Let’s not,” she cuts in, and I can’t help but chuckle at her immediate dismissal. That’s the kind of response I expected from her. “Not here.”

“Afraid of being seen?” I tease, the lights in the car fading out. I already know it’s hard to see anything inside her car when it’s dark out. “We could have a little fun before we go back to your apartment.”

“My apartment?” she echoes, sounding confused. “I thought you’d be ready to go home.”

“Sure am,” I agree. “But I’m not going to risk turning back into a toy when that apology is up in the air. We can take care of that and I’ll be out of your hair.”