Todos os capítulos de Faking it with the Hockey Bad Boy: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Trey's POV It's been a crazy period for me especially these past few days as the seasons draw very close. My dad has never been so hard on me till as of late, "Boy, this is your final year, I need you to prove that you are the star player this season if you want the scout to take you seriously."He looked at me sternly from the dinner table and resumed eating up his dinner after crushing my appetite.I have been the star player right from High School until two years ago when a freshman decided to steal my spotlight. Now I will do everything within my power, to prove that I am still the star player.Today, I played a fast one on him—my biggest rival, Jaxon and assembled the team in his absence. The look on his face when he walked in was the icing on the cake. Well I had every right to do so because that was the discipline and strategizing the team needs right now.After the meeting came to an abrupt end, I waited a while in the apartment catching up with O'Malley until my phone buzze

Jaxon’s POVHazel’s hand was warm in mine as she pulled me away from Trey, her grip firm and relentless.I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, the urge to give Trey a piece of my mind never really fading. “Hazel, you’re about to make a mistake by not choosing me!”Trey’s voice rang out behind us, slurred but angry and desperate. Hazel didn’t even flinch. She just kept walking, shoulders squared and her gaze fixed ahead.But of course Trey wasn’t done being dramatic.“You know you were only using him to get my attention!” he yelled, his words echoing across the parking lot. My heart sank. “And it worked, okay? I see it now. I see what I missed. I missed you cheering for me at the games. I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier, but I’m noticing now!”I halted to look back at him and if eyes could kill, he’d be struck where he stood. “It’s too late, Trey. Go home.”Hazel squeezed my hand, and we kept moving toward my car.I opened the passenger door for her as she sl

Jaxon’s POV“This isn’t fair.”The words came out rough, torn straight from my throat, but I didn’t take them back. My chest felt like it was on fire, like someone had reached inside and was strangling my heart with both hands.“You can’t just leave like this, Hazel.”But she wouldn’t even look at me. She just stood still with her arms wrapped around herself, trembling slightly, staring at some spot on the floor like that was the key to erasing all our problems. How could she do this to me?Was this really all because of Trey? After everything we’d shared and everything we’d been through together, was she really still hung up on him?The thought of it made me feel sick to my stomach. I wanted to yell, to break something or to run somewhere far enough that I didn’t have to feel this helpless and exposed to the ache tearing me apart from the inside out. But I wasn’t going to give up. Not now when it felt like I was losing something I hadn’t known I needed until it was slipping throug

Hazel’s POV "Oh my God, what just happened?!" "Is that Carter?!" "Is he alright!" "Damn it, I fear he is going to suffer a bad fracture!" Discouraging words floated around me as I rushed down to the barrier.My limbs went numb when I saw Jaxon sprawled on the floor.He wasn't moving. The excitement that once filled the air at the start of the game, had suddenly been replaced with chaos.I tuned out the noise, with my eyes fastened on the rinks. Reality hit me like a slap on the face. That was a terrible fall and he was lying on his injured shoulder. I turned to look at Trey now, the smirk on his face not long ago has disappeared and replaced with a worried look that didn't look genuine.It finally dawned on me that this was the second time that Trey was doing this, then it only meant one thing.Ignoring all the eyes, I surged forward but I was held back by one of the medics that rushed into the rinks.Guilt gnawed in my heart, threatening to consume me alive. My throat clogged

Jaxon’s POVI woke up to silence.Not the peaceful kind, not the kind that lets you rest, but the heavy kind that presses against your chest and reminds you that you are alone. My shoulder felt like it had been set on fire and then left to burn slowly, and when I tried to shift even slightly, pain shot down my arm so sharply that I had to grit my teeth to keep from swearing out loud.For a moment I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing through it.I had felt this kind of pain before.Not on the ice.At home.The memory came uninvited, like it always did when I was at my weakest. My father’s hand gripping the back of my jersey when I was fourteen. The wall behind me. The sound of my shoulder slamming against it because I had missed a goal in a junior game. His voice told me I was soft. That pain was weakness leaving the body. That if I wanted to be great, I had to learn to take hits without crying.I learned.I learned how to swallow pain and call it discipline. I learned