Torn Apart (Torn and Bound Duet 1)

The crowd boos as I try to find where the puck is. There are only five seconds left… four… three… we’re going to be going into overtime.

And then… Fuck! Brayden has the puck and… Holy shit! The crowd screams as he reaches around and flips the puck into the net from behind just before the buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the period and the game.

The scoreboard changes: 1-0 and the arena goes crazy as the team piles out and attacks Brayden for scoring the winning shot in the last second. He lifts his stick toward the ceiling, and his eyes momentarily close. For a split second, my feet move forward, heading straight for Bray. But then I remember that’s not who we are anymore, and I freeze in my spot, watching as Nolan Finn, Brayden’s closest friend on the team, envelops him in a hug. They pat each other’s backs and my heart constricts as memories from our past rush forward, damn near knocking me off my feet.

Our years of friendship—on and off the ice. The way we practiced together every damn day. We were inseparable. He knew everything about me, every flaw, every secret, and I knew him. It was us against the world… until it wasn’t.

After he’s done hugging the guys, he skates over to the side where his parents are waiting. Molly jumps up and down and wraps her arms around her son, while Tim pats him on the shoulder, no doubt telling him how proud he is of him.

I should avert my eyes, focus on something else, but I can’t stop watching, remembering what it was like to have them all in my corner. To be part of their family. It didn’t matter that I played better than Brayden and he spent more time on the bench while I ate up all the minutes. At the end of the day, we were a team—the dynamic duo, as his parents called us when we were little—and we had each other’s backs.

Until I fucked it all up.

Brayden hugs his parents once more and then skates back toward the benches, a mesmerizingly beautiful smile on his face. Our eyes lock for a brief moment, and a lump the size of a damn puck fills my throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. With Bray, he’s either high or he’s low. There’s no in between. Like the other night at dinner when he was breaking apart right before my eyes and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and comfort him. I knew he was beating himself up over shit he can’t change. And for the rest of the night, after we parted ways, I worried where he was, how he was handling his feelings. But right now, he’s high, on top of the world, as he should be. He kicked ass tonight, came through in the clutch, and I’m so damn proud of him.

His smile falters slightly, and I instantly miss it, wishing it would come back. Because when Bray is high, on top of the world, it’s the most magical sight to behold. I expect him to sneer or glare, so I’m shocked when his eyes stay trained on mine and he juts out his chin, and then, with a tiny pull of his lips, he grants me the smallest smile. If you weren’t looking at him as close as I am, you wouldn’t even know it happened, but I am, and I know. And it damn near makes my heart burst.

All too quickly, he diverts his gaze to a couple other teammates, ending the moment, leaving me standing here, for the first time, thinking maybe there’s hope for us yet.

After celebrating the victory of our first win as a team, and reminding them they have tomorrow off, but I’ll see them Monday morning at 5:00 a.m., everyone showers and then heads out. I’m walking down the hall, when I see Dean Carter walking my way.

“Congratulations.” He shakes my hand. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

“Only one down, thirty-three more to go,” I joke.

“Any plans for the night?” he asks as my eyes land on Mia and Ashton walking over. We made plans to go to dinner after the game, but I’m not about to mention that to him.

“Just going to go over the tapes.”

“Dedicated.” Curtis claps me on my shoulder. “I like it. Keep up the good work.”

He’s about to walk away, when Ashton and Mia approach.

“Dad,” Ashton says, making his presence known. “Good game, Coach Thompson,” he adds with a sly smirk. I swear the guy lives for fucking with people.

Curtis does a double take, probably shocked as shit that his son is actually here. He clasps Ashton on the shoulder and says to me, “Are you responsible for this? Getting my son to attend a college event?”