“Your parents’ accident.”
I nod. “I think he holds a lot of resentment about … well, everything. I’m just the easy target. We’ve always butted heads. There’s sibling rivalry, and then there’s Asher and me on a whole new level. And I think he actually loves that he can handle our siblings better than I can. It’s like he’s saying, ‘I know you’re better at hockey than me, but hey, at least I can tell our brothers apart. At least I know how to get Zoe to calm down or talk to Hazel and Rhys so they actually engage in the conversation.’ We have … issues. This will be another thing we’ll have to deal with and move on from.”
“Will your relationship survive it?”
“I hope so. For the kids’ sake.”
Jasper looks down at his feet. “Maybe I should take a step back?”
I shake my head. “Not on your fucking life. Asher doesn’t get to dictate who I’m with, just like I don’t get to dictate his life. We’re going to piss each other off because that’s who we are, but like every other time, we’ll pull through.”
“If you’re sure …” Jasper bites his lip.
“I am. Because this, what we have …” I pull him close again and lower my forehead to his. “I’ll fight for you.”
Jasper sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone offer to fight for me before.”
“You’ve never dated a hockey player. We’re renowned for fighting.”
“Except you. You hate the sight of blood.”
“Don’t you start with that. Whenever anyone spilled blood on the ice, my teammates would be like, ‘Ope, don’t send Dalton out there!’”
“I like teasing you though.” Jasper smiles.
And yeah, I like it when he teases me too.
If Asher’s trying to get his point across, I have to say he’s overshooting it.
Fair enough, I gave Asher the silent treatment for three whole months over summer after I found out he slept with Ezra, but this week, I think he’s trying to rival that.
We’re so much alike, it’s scary, but that’s why we butt heads a lot. We’re too much the same.
He avoids me at home, mutters under his breath at practice, and undermines my authority—meanwhile, his boyfriend watches from the team box and sends me sympathetic stares. Even Kole knows Asher’s throwing a hissy fit.
And because he’s being a big baby, the team is suffering.
I blow my whistle and run a hand through my hair. “You guys know we only have one more practice until regionals this weekend, right? Do you all want a repeat of last year?”
There are a few grumbles and the word “No” from a couple of people.
Asher’s still scowling at me. I need to fix this, and I need to do it before the game this weekend.
I skate to the side bench and pull out some cones. “Okay, transition pivot races. From the centerline to the defensive blue line, around these cones”—I throw them down, one on each side of the ice—“back to the blue line, and then the first to get this puck in the net wins.” I drop the puck in the middle of the attack zone. “Split into two lines.”
The first pair go and then the second. This is not only a drill about speed but agility and skill. When Asher reaches the front of the line and is about to face off with Rossi, I pull Rossi back.
And when I skate into position opposite Asher, he straightens up, and the rest of the team lets out a round of “Oooh.”
Beck, who’s coaching on the ice with me, grins, but Coach Hogan is in his office. I probably wouldn’t pull this if he were out here.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Asher says.
I shrug. “I’m showing them all how it’s supposed to be done. This is what you want, isn’t it? This is what you’ve wanted since the day you put on a pair of skates. Want to prove you’re the better player? Want to let go of all the resentment hockey has ever given you?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“To get you to stop acting like a brat and put this fight behind us.”
Determination fills Asher’s eyes. “And if I win?”
“If you win, I’m not going to stop seeing Jasper, but I will let you watch the kids while I go over to his place instead of bringing him to ours.”
“Wow, so generous. And if you win?”
“I get to bring my boyfriend home, he will have dinner with us, hang out, stay over, and you don’t get to complain about it.”
“Why do I feel like this is a lose-lose situation for me?”
“If you beat me, you don’t have to see Jasper. I’d say that is a win for you. Plus, think of those bragging rights.”
“Okay, you’re on.” He takes position to face off with me, and when Beck blows his whistle for us to start, Asher and I turn and go in opposite directions.