On my way back from the bathroom I stop at the bar. I should probably stop drinking soon, or tomorrow isn’t going to be awesome, but Stevie’s lack of communication and my inability to take action are making me antsy.

Someone edges their way between me and another guy waiting at the bar. The perfume is familiar, and I glance over at the woman crowding my personal space.

“Shippy! I thought it was you! Couldn’t forget that back-end view if I tried!”

Shit. This is the last thing I need after today. “Penny.”

Her lipsticked smile grows wider, likely at my displeased expression. “Don’t worry, Shippy, I’m not here to start problems.” She flashes her hand in front of my face, diamond ring glinting in the dimly lit bar.

“Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?” At least I don’t have to worry about her hitting on me.

“Chuck Peterson. Owns the real estate company in our hometown. You remember him, right? He’s got billboards all over town these days. Biggest agent in the city.”

“That’s great.” Obviously nothing has changed since she and I broke up: always about status, money, and flash.

I order myself a beer and offer to buy her whatever she wants, because it means I’ll get rid of her faster. Of course she wants some kind of fancy-ass drink. Her eyes light up and she slaps my chest. “Let’s get a selfie! Chuck will be so jealous that he missed seeing you and King!”

She pulls out her phone and hugs my arm, making that weird face all women seem fond of these days. I let her take the stupid pictures—otherwise she’s liable to make a scene—and I even try to smile so I don’t look like a complete asshole.

Thankfully, the drinks appear, so I toss some money on the bar and get my ass out of there before she can corner me again and make me take more selfies. I head for a table in the corner where Kingston is holed up with friends from college.

I’m about to take a seat when someone grabs me.

“What the hell, man?” Rook seethes.

I look down at his hand wrapped around my arm. “What the hell, what?”

His lip pulls up in a sneer. “You think this is some kind of joke?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You and the goddamn bunnies. There’s a viral video of you and Stevie, and this is how you manage it, by making her look even worse?”

I thumb over my shoulder. “I went to college with these guys.”

“And that’s supposed to make it better, when you’re posing for selfies with some chick in a bar but you were macking on my damn sister four days ago?”

“You really don’t know shit, Rook.”

“Like hell I don’t. She’s a mess over this. Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? Is there anyone you think about other than yourself?” Rook is all up in my space, just as agitated as me.

“Are you kidding me right now? You’re the reason she’s not talking to me. You’re the goddamn problem, Rook.”

“I’m the problem? I should’ve beat your ass weeks ago.”

“Hey, guys, you need to cool it unless you want to end up on suspension.” King tries to get us both to take a step back, but we ignore him.

I’m tired of Rook and his bullshit. Tired of people taking the things I want. “You think I give a shit about a suspension right now? Fuck that. You wanna throw down, Bowman, then let’s throw down.”

His cheek tics. “You’ll be in traction by the time I’m done with you, ass clown.”

“Pretty sure it’s gonna be the other way around.” I’m so pissed off right now there’s a haze of red clouding my vision. I recognize, somewhere in the back of my head, that my decision-making skills are highly compromised by the unusual quantity of alcohol I’ve consumed tonight, Rook’s asinine accusations, and the fact that Stevie is dodging me.

But I’m sick of bowing for everyone else, of backing down and walking on eggshells. I’ve followed every rule, toed every fucking line, and I’m done worrying about everyone else and what they want and need.

Rook tips his chin toward the exit. “Let’s take this somewhere without eyes.”

I clench and release my fists, mirroring his grin. “Sounds good to me.”

We leave the bar, with King and a couple of other guys trailing behind us. I’m pretty sure we have the same idea: find a quiet dark alley to kick each other’s asses in. We end up by the garbage dumpsters. It’s warm here, and the smell of rancid food makes us gag.

“Guys, this is a really bad idea,” King says before I let the door slam closed in his face.

He wrenches it open. His expression is one I haven’t seen before as he steps out into the alley. His nose wrinkles at the putrid smell, but he crosses his arms and leans against the closed steel door. “I’m here to mediate.”

Rook and I both look at him, then focus on each other.

“I told you to keep your hands off my goddamn sister, and you didn’t listen,” Rook snarls and then settles into what seems like a fighting stance.

“I don’t take my orders from you.”

“Alex told you to keep it professional.”

“It was supposed to be until I was on the ice again, which I am.”

“So you thought you’d string her along and use her like one of your stick-chasing bunnies?” He takes a swing at me, which I don’t expect. It’s cheap and dirty, an uppercut that makes my head snap back and stars explode behind my eyes.

I trip over some garbage and fall on my ass. He takes advantage of my disoriented state and lands on top of me. For half a second I can fully appreciate the lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his sister and how much she must mean to him.

“I’m in love with her, you stupid fuck!” I shout. And I’m not just saying it for the shock-and-awe factor. I’ve been a miserable asshole the last few days without her, worse than usual even. I feel like a tree that’s been ripped out by the roots, robbed of vital nourishment.

Rook pauses with his fist raised in the air, his expression shifting to confusion. I use his momentary distraction to my advantage and flip us over so he’s on his back on the ground instead of me. My jaw already aches. If he’s broken something, I’ll be so pissed.

“I love her, and you’re the reason she isn’t talking to me!”

King pulls me off him.

Rook scrambles back to his feet. “You’re the one with a mile-long list of puck-bunny pictures all over social media.”

“Those are my brother’s conquests, not mine. When have you ever seen me pick up a bunny? Fucking never.”

“Bullshit.” Rook spits, but I can see him filtering through preseason, trying to come up with a time when I’ve chatted up a bunny, let alone taken one home with me. I’m as polite as I possibly can be to fans, considering I’m a dick on the best of days.

“You know what’s bullshit? The fact that your goddamn puck-bunny history is the reason Stevie is freaking out right now. You’re the one who’s screwing this up for me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I should probably stop while I’m ahead here, but I can’t seem to keep my mouth from running. It’s been days, and I’m done with Stevie avoiding me and Rook being pissed off at me when he’s the damn problem. “She lives in your fucking shadow.”