Chapter 7

Hex’s POV

I didn’t sleep all through the night because every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.

The way she stood beside him, the way she looked at him and the way she said, “Let’s go,” like I didn’t exist.

For a greater part of the night, I was staring at the ceiling of my apartment with my jaw tight and hands clenched into fists against my sides. 

The memory kept playing over and over again in my head like some kind of punishment I couldn’t escape.

Out of everyone, she chose Davian D’Amato. 

The thought made something twist in my chest. 

It was jealousy and I hated that I felt it because I had no right.

I lost that right the moment I let her walk away three years ago but still that didn’t mean I had to like it.

Exhaling roughly, I dragged a hand down my face before pushing myself off the bed.

We had a home game in two nights so I had to be at the rink for practice. I didn't want to but if I stayed here any longer, I was going to lose my damn mind.

***

The rink was already buzzing when I got there.

The familiar sound of skates cutting across ice, pucks slamming against boards and the low hum of conversation should have grounded me.

It always did but not today.

Today, everything felt off like I was skating through someone else’s life.

I barely made it through half of the warm-ups before I saw Davian.

He was standing near the bench, talking to one of the assistant coaches like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I clenched my jaw and before I could stop myself, I pushed off the ice, skating straight toward him.

He noticed me before I even got close.

He always seemed aware of everything.

“Mercer,” he called, his tone neutral.

“Where did you take her?” I asked bluntly, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I said, stepping closer. “Where did you take Maxine last night?”

There was a pause then his lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Do you have a problem with that?” he asked calmly.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out because what was I supposed to say?

His eyes sharpened slightly, like he had just confirmed something.

“Where do you know her from?” he asked instead.

I clenched my jaw but I didn’t answer because that wasn’t his business.

Something unreadable flickered across his face before he nodded once, like he wasn’t going to push.

“Thought so,” he muttered.

I didn’t ask what that meant, not that I even care.  

Furious, I turned away, grabbing my stick and skates before heading back onto the ice.

If I stayed there any longer, I would end up saying something I can’t take back.

***

“Mercer!” Travis's voice cut through the rink like a blade.

“Mercer!” He called again and I blinked, snapping out of whatever mess my head was stuck in.

“Yeah?”

“What the hell was that?” he barked, skating toward me. “You call that a pass?”

I glanced down at the ice, realizing I had completely missed the play.

“I…”

“Focus,” he snapped. “Or get off my ice.

“I’m fine.” I muttered, tightening my grip on my stick. 

“It doesn’t look like it.” He snapped. 

Ignoring him, I pushed off again but it didn’t get better.

Every pass was off, every shot missed and every move felt wrong like my body wasn’t keeping up with my mind or maybe it was the other way around.

“Mercer!” He called again, louder this time.

“What’s your problem today?” Travis demanded.

“Nothing,” I shot back.

“Then start playing like it.”

I gritted my teeth, gripping my stick tighter.

I tried, I really did but every time I pushed forward, my mind dragged me back back to the way she looked at him.

“Enough!” Travis’s voice echoed across the rink.

“Get your head in the game or get off my ice!”

Something snapped in my head and before I even realized what I was doing, I hurled my stick across the ice, the sound of it clattering loudly against the boards.

“Damn it!” I muttered, turning sharply.

“Mercer…”

I didn’t wait, I pushed off, heading toward the exit.

My skate slipped.

One second I was moving, the next, my foot twisted awkwardly beneath me.

Pain shot through my knee instantly, sharp and blinding.

“Shit!” I groaned, hitting the ice hard, the impact knocking the breath out of me.

For a second, everything went quiet then I heard voices and footsteps. 

“Mercer’s down!”

“Don’t move,” one of the trainers said, kneeling beside me.

“Yeah, no kidding,” I gritted out, my jaw clenched as another wave of pain shot through my leg.

“Where does it hurt?”

“My knee,” I muttered, gripping the ice beneath me. “Twisted it.”

“Alright, we’ve got you,” he said.

The ride to the exam room felt longer than it should have.

Every bump and shift sent another wave of pain through my knee and by the time they rolled me in, I was already on edge.

Maxine was sitting at the desk, updating files like nothing in the world could shake her.

For a split second, she didn’t notice and when she did, her head snapped up and our eyes met immediately.  

She was on her feet instantly, rushing toward me.

“Move,” she said sharply to the trainers, her voice all business. “I’ve got him.”

They stepped back without hesitation as she stepped closer, her hands already moving, checking my knee with practiced precision.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Slipped,” one of the trainers answered. “Twisted his knee pretty bad.”

She nodded, her expression focused.

“I’ll handle it,” she said. “But stay close in case I need assistance.”

They nodded, stepping aside but not leaving.

Her fingers pressed against my knee, and I hissed slightly.

“Does it hurt here?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

She moved carefully, assessing, her brows furrowed slightly.

“Could be a fracture,” she muttered.

My chest tightened.

Fracture.

That word alone was enough to send a wave of panic through me.

Because hockey wasn’t just a game to me, it was everything to me and suddenly, it felt like it could all be ripped away.

Without thinking, I reached out, grabbing her arm.

Her skin was warm beneath my fingers.

“Will I ever play again?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

She paused, looked at me for a while then smirked. 

“Stop being a crybaby,” she said lightly. “Worst case, you’ll be benched for a few months. Your NHL dream is still intact.”

I stared at her for a second then laughed because somehow, that was exactly what I needed to hear.

And for a brief moment, she smiled too.

God, I missed her smile. 

She pulled her arm free gently, stepping back.

“I need to get something from storage,” she said, her tone shifting back to professional.

“I’ll be back.” She added and then she was gone.

The room felt different without her.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back slightly as the trainers moved around, preparing whatever they needed.

My gaze drifted then landed on her phone which had buzzed on her desk.

For a second, I didn’t think much of it but then the thought of Davian texting her hit me instantly.  

Was he asking her out again?

Something tightened in my chest and before I could stop myself, I reached out, grabbing her phone.

The screen lit up again but it wasn’t Davian.

My brows pulled together slightly as I read the message.

Adeline: Are you working late today? Creed is running a temperature. We need to see the pediatrician.