Fourteen
Porter
I didn’t want to go to the fucking holiday party. It was just a get-together where we all wore nice clothes and drank. There wasn’t anything festive about it.
Putting slacks on with this fucking knee was a shit show. I preferred living in my basketball shorts or baggy sweatpants, but Nico talked me into going.
I hadn’t done a damn thing with the team since my injury.
Coach called and told me they were stripping me of my captaincy if I didn’t get my head out of my ass. Just because I wasn’t on ice, didn’t mean I couldn’t show up and be the presence he knew I could be. I needed to step up and be the voice of the team. I needed to take on my responsibilities, or I was out.
I still had two months, minimum, before I could join them on the ice. The season would be more than half over by that time, so who the hell cared if I lost the ‘C’ on my sweater?
In the end, I found myself with reservations at the damn hotel the party was being held at. Nico talked me into it, the fucking bastard. Told me it was payback for saddling him with a dog for weeks.
Currently, Caine sat on the floor at the end of the bed, his eyes on me as I grumbled and fucked with my slacks. I should have put my brace on over them, but I was too far in the process to change my mind.
I heard the front door open and cursed the fact I didn’t take back the house key from Nico. Damn guy came and went like it was his own fucking place.
“You ready yet, Portsy?”
Caine’s ears piqued at Nico’s voice and his tail started to wag behind him. His golden eyes were on mine but I could see that he wanted to go to Nico. “Go,” I told him, shaking my head.
Caine bounded up and, crying and yipping, left the bedroom and down the short hall.
I stood and buckled my pants after tucking my dress shirt in. “Two seconds,” I yelled out.
I hobbled to the bathroom and ran water through my hair, then gel. I was on the wrong side of a haircut. I shook my head at my reflection and hit the lights, grabbing my crutches to carry them down the hall.
I wasn’t supposed to be weight bearing as much as I did, but I was sick of the crutches. I’d bring them, just in case, but I wasn’t planning on using them.
“I’m coming.” When I got to the main living space, I frowned when I noticed that Nico was standing in the wide-open door, crouched in front of Caine. Belly-up, Caine was enjoying the attention.
“Couldn’t close the door?” I asked, a brow up.
Nico pat Caine’s belly three times before standing. “Left the truck running. Keeping an eye on it.”
I scribbled a quick note for the neighbor, who would be letting Caine out tonight and in the morning, before reaching for my keys.
“What, no bag?” Nico grinned at me.
“I have no problem walking the walk of shame tomorrow morning.” I’d sleep in my briefs, too. It wasn’t like I was going to soil my clothes at a six-hour holiday party.
“Alright…” Nico’s voice held a hint of…something…but he dropped it. We stepped outside and my eyes glanced at the Kia sitting in the drive.
I kept wondering when Asher would do something about it, but she didn’t, nor did I do anything to tell her to do something with it. It was a driveway decoration now.
As far as I knew, she was still paying for it, so why the hell it sat in my driveway was beyond me.
I locked the door behind me, after ushering a “Be a good boy,” to Caine, and headed toward Nico’s truck.
I opened the door as Nico went to the driver’s side and pulled myself up.
Before I sat though, I caught sight of the most beautiful, scowling face in the world.
Asher
I was so fucking pissed at Avery.
At Nico.
At myself.
Porter didn’t know I was coming.
Porter didn’t know I was going to be playing glorified babysitter tonight.
I shook my head to myself as I crossed my arms and looked out the backseat window toward the house, where Nico crouched in the doorway, rubbing on Caine.
My heart hitched in my chest at the sight.
Before Nico got out of the truck, he pointed at me, telling me to stay put. And then the bastard locked the doors from the outside, meaning if I tried to leave, I’d be setting off the alarm.
And Nico’s security alarm on his truck?
It was probably the most annoying one I had ever heard in my life.
I watched as Nico and Porter left the house.
I watched as Porter paused before turning to the lock the house up.
I watched as Porter walked to the truck, without the aid of his crutches. No, they stayed in an underarm carry.
Dumb man.
He was going to ruin his knee. Avery gave me all sorts of instructions when it came to Porter and his knee—he wasn’t supposed to bear weight completely for another week, he was supposed to wear his brace all the time but it could be unlocked now, and he needed to do range-of-motion every night.
He was going to fuck up his knee and then what would he do, when he was told he couldn’t play anymore?
I could feel the scowl on my face as Porter opened the truck door. I stared hard at him, wanting to yell at him for being so stupid, but not saying anything because really…
It wasn’t my place anymore.
And you did that.
I scoffed at the thought.
When Porter’s green eyes met mine over the seat though, it was really hard to hold the anger.
I’m sorry.
I miss you.
My breath hitched and I fought to take a deep breath, all while trying to maintain my scowl.
His eyes widened and his mouth went slack, but quickly he became closed off, turning to sit in the seat without a word.
When Nico hopped up, Porter growled at him. “Fuck you, Nico.”
My eyes burned at the realization that Porter didn’t want me here. It was one thing for his sister and friend to connive me into flying down, telling me he missed me and that he was hurting.
It was another to hear his anger.
You did that, Asher. You did it.
I sucked my lips under my teeth and looked out the window.
Yes.
I did.
I did it, and it was time to face the consequences.