Chapter 8-No one can find out

Nate

"What has come over you, Nathaniel?" Coach's voice is laced with bitter disappointment.

"It will not happen again, sir," I respond robotically, but with a shred of remorse in my voice, even when I don't really feel it. It's just the way I've learned to be.

"From the first day Logan came, you two have been at each other's throats. Is there something I'm not aware of?" His brows furrow, and he stares directly into my eyes.

What? Like the fact that I'm gay? Hell no.

"No, sir," I say out loud, my eyes fixed on the spot between his eyes. The last thing I need is to look back at him and make him realize I'm lying.

"You're Captain, Nathaniel, and for good reason. I have never seen you act like this. Fits, sure, but for the past week, you've been so angry."

He sighs and goes back to his seat.

"Don't make me rethink my decision." He says it with that pleading voice that makes me sick.

Like he can see through me.

See how broken and useless I am.

"And whatever issues you have with Logan, fix them. He's a solid player, and he's here to stay. If you ever fight on my team again, both of you will be suspended for the entire season."

I nod attentively.

I know the coach. He doesn't make empty threats.

Glancing at the pile of papers on his desk, he skims through them, dismissing me.

I turn and head for the door.

"Wait," Coach calls out as my hand twists the knob.

"Yes, sir," I respond without turning to look at him. God knows I don't want to see that sympathetic look on his face whenever he wants to make me feel like he understands what I deal with.

"Send Logan in on your way out."

Thank God he didn't spew some more words of wisdom. I'm full of them by now.

I nod and leave.

Rolling my shoulders, I walk to the locker room and find Elias, Cam, and Dylan sitting on the benches.

Their eyes meet mine, and Cam snorts.

I drag my gaze to the last person sitting to the side.

Logan.

His brown hair is sticking out in awkward directions, and his head is bent.

"Coach wants you, Logan."

I say it without sparing him another glance.

The last thing I need is to see that lying, infuriating face.

That's the first time I've said his name since I learned it. It almost sounds weird on my lips.

He snaps to his feet and walks out, leaving the awkwardness hanging in the air.

"What's the problem, Nate?" Elias asks, now standing to face me.

Concern is etched all over his face, and all I can do is feel sick.

I hate it when he worries about me. It would be better if he were just angry or fucking pissed. But concern? Pity? I hate those looks.

And telling him about Friday night would just be stupid and make it all worse. Especially with the way Elias can fuss about me like a mother hen.

Never mind the fact that Logan is a bloody liar and the last thing I want to do is talk about him.

"Nothing."

I start peeling off my jersey, chucking my things into my locker.

"You just fucking exploded on Logan. Come on, I don't believe nothing's wrong. Why do you hate him?"

"I don't... I don't hate him. I just want him to stay away from me, and he won't. So sue me if that gets me mad."

I sigh, exasperated.

I just need this night to fucking end.

"Well, sorry, but you're Captain, so you can't just make teammates stay away from you whenever you like. And you don't even know the kid. All this bullshit is rubbing off on the team."

"Whatever, Eli. I just wanna sleep. I'm just so tired."

I glance at Cam and Dylan with a knowing look.

"Oh no, you don't." Cam rushes at me. "We're supposed to be going to a bar right now, not bed-rotting with you."

He wails, flinging his hands in the air.

"Oh, fuck off," I snort. "Elias will bed-rot with me."

I turn to Elias, and he's scratching the back of his neck, looking everywhere else but at me.

"Oh, come on."

I raise my hands in defeat.

"Just let us have this one night. We barely made it out of that game with a win. Let us celebrate. Plus, I think you're gonna need the alone time, so we're doing this for you, in a way." Dylan smiles sheepishly at me.

Man.

I stick my tongue out at him and start packing my things into my bag.

"I'll come home with you," a deep baritone voice speaks from behind me.

I turn, and my heart flutters in my chest for a moment as I see Viktor standing at the door, already changed.

Vik's like the giant teddy bear of the team.

Big and scary on the ice, but a big puppy once you get to know him.

He leans against the doorframe slightly, and I can already hear the hinges creaking from his weight.

What would we do without our big friendly giant?

"Really, Vik? You'll stay all night?"

"Yeah, sure," he says in his thick Russian accent. "Cupcakes in the fridge for team."

At that, Dylan's face lights up.

"Ah, ah, ah." Vik quickly stands upright. "Only for Nate tonight. Not either of you."

I smirk and pick up my backpack.

"Serves you right, traitors." I stick my tongue out at them, flipping them both my middle fingers.

"Oh, suck my dick!" Cam yells as Vik and I head out of the locker room.

"Come on, Vik. They're gonna beg us for those treats."

I snicker as I walk beside him.

"There's no treats." He stops abruptly and looks at me with a grin.

My mouth almost drops to the floor.

"What do you mean there's no treats?" I almost wail.

"I only say that to make them jealous," Vik replies, scratching the back of his head.

I shake my head, sighing.

"At least it worked. Come on, I'll get some treats on the way, and we can make cookies when we get home."

We leave the school and take an Uber to the small apartment I own.

The one I kinda conned my dad into getting for me.

I mean, I can't spend all my time in the dorms or at classes and practice.

Sue me if I want something different.

My throat tightens for a second as the sight of the apartment brings back stupid memories.

I wish I hadn't brought Logan here.

Stupid me.

Shaking the thoughts away, we step inside, and within a few minutes, Vik is already taking out his baking kit and whipping up some goodies.

Yes. He bakes. Isn't that cool? Free junk food.

If Coach ever finds out, we're dead meat.

So, there are two rooms. Dylan and Elias share the second room whenever we sleep over here, and I'm always stuck with stupid-ass Cam in the first. Talk about wonky luck.

After almost two hours, the cookies are done.

Vik sets them on the floor, and we sit cross-legged, a movie playing on my laptop.

"Why you don't like Logan?" Vik asks, his deep voice almost like a rumble.

"I'm okay with him."

I shrug, not wanting to think about it.

I wouldn't have any issues on a normal day.

Avoiding him would be fine.

But he lied to me.

He lied about not being a student, and I was stupid enough to believe him.

But then again...

He lied.

I would never have made out with him if he'd told me the truth.

It would've saved us all this mess.

"You fight him just a few hours ago," Vik insists.

"Vik, can we not talk about it? Let's just watch the movie. Please."

He silently turns his gaze back to the screen, and we continue watching.

I hate to admit it, but Dylan was right.

I did need to stay home.

After all, it was getting drunk at a bar that got me into this mess in the first place.

Now I just have to find a way to deal with the problem named Logan.

So no one ever finds out about it.