All I did was go to the bathroom for two minutes and when I returned, every member of the Falcons and the Bulldogs on the ice was involved in a massive altercation. Both sides were yelling at each other while the referees stood in the middle, holding players back and trying to calm everyone down.

One of the players being held back was Chase. He and Luke were having words—again. Some of the other guys were just sniping back and forth, not all that worked up, but Chase was legitimately furious.

Heart racing, I hurried down the stairs and sank back into my seat beside Siobhan, regretting that I'd left. I tried to time it with Chase's shift changes, but apparently fell short.

"What happened?" I grabbed my half of the blue and purple plaid blanket we'd been huddling under together for warmth, covering my legs with it.

Shiv nodded to the scrum. "Looked like your ex took a run at Ty."

My stomach clenched. Of course he did.

"Is Ty okay?" I asked, eyes still glued to Chase. My chest was tight, breath shallow, and I was worried about what he might do. The ref leaned in and said something to him. Chase shook his head and said something that looked like "no" in reply.

"Yeah, he got knocked for a loop but he seems fine." She pointed to the far corner of the ice, where Ty appeared to be trash talking Mendez.

Goalies were supposed to answer to other goalies, but Mendez was fairly soft spoken and probably not to blame for anything that just transpired. While some of the players seemed to be enjoying the fight, Mendez looked like he just wanted to get back in the net.

My gaze snapped back to Chase, who seemed to have calmed down a fraction. He was still yelling at Luke, but the referee wasn't straining to hold him back anymore.

"But it's the principle at this point," Siobhan added, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her red Falcons hoodie. Even with the blanket, the rink was frigid like usual.

"It really is," I agreed.

Everyone knows you don't go after the goalie. Ever. And after that cheap hit on Dallas earlier, it wasn't surprising that Chase looked like he wanted to tear off Luke's head.

Luckily, Derek wasn't on the ice, so I didn't have that to worry about on top of everything else.

"Think anyone's going to take a penalty?"

"Nah," Shiv said. "It was pretty much a two-way street. No one threw any hits, either."

Slowly, the referees managed to negotiate some kind of peace between both sides. Players started to filter back to their respective benches. A referee steered Chase toward the Falcons bench and Chase shrugged off the ref's arm, beginning to head off the ice.

My breathing resumed a more normal pattern and the tightness in my shoulders relaxed a notch. It was almost the end of the second period, so maybe things would cool down during the break. Then there was only 20 more minutes of game time to get through without any bloodshed. God willing.

Instead of heading to the Bulldogs' bench, though, Luke made a sharp turn and skated over to Chase, who was halfway to the Falcons bench. They were side by side on open ice without anyone else nearby.

My heart leapt into my throat.

Luke leaned in, saying something else that no one else seemed to hear. Chase shook his head, and they had a quick verbal back and forth. In a flash, Chase's expression went from irritated to homicidal. He threw his stick and grabbed Luke by the jersey, tossing him down onto the ice like he was weightless.

No, no, no.

The linesman blew his whistle and sped over to them, wedging himself between their bodies and holding Chase back. Or attempting to, anyway, because it wasn't really working. A second linesman skated up, trying to help him restrain Chase with limited success.

Luke scrambled to his feet, backing up a few strides. He didn't fight. Ever. I'd never seen it. I was pretty sure he didn't know how to fight. Which meant Chase would destroy him and get himself into serious trouble in the process.

Dallas hopped over the boards and joined the linemen, trying to talk Chase down while restraining him. Chase just shook his head and kept yelling at Luke. I had never seen Chase look that mad. He was already kicked out of the game for sure. Likely, suspended for multiple games.

After another split second of watching and praying, I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want him to be in any more trouble than he already was.

I stood up and ran down the stairs to ice-level. "Stop it!" I banged on the glass, but I couldn't get his attention. "Carter!"

Finally, Chase turned and looked in my direction. Our eyes locked and I made a "cut it out" gesture. "Please?" I mouthed.

He nodded and relaxed slightly, no longer resisting the linesman. Head held down, he skated off the side and headed for the locker rooms. I climbed the stairs back up to our seats, exchanging a look with Siobhan.

"What the hell just happened?" Shiv asked.

"I have no idea."

*

Waiting for Chase to emerge from the dressing room was torture. Time seemed like it was actually going in reverse.

I spent the entire intermission pacing the concourse with poor Shiv in tow, who had to work double-time to keep up with my strides. I couldn't help it; I was too wired with worry over Chase.

We didn't see anyone from the Bulldogs at least, or if we did, I didn't notice.

Siobhan and I were still on the concourse when the buzzer sounded, announcing the start of the third period. Shiv looked at me uncertainly, deep teal eyes studying my face.

"Go watch," I said. "It's okay. I'll wait for him here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Chase could be awhile." I wasn't sure if he was getting reamed out or had just been forced to sit in on the intermission pep talk with the rest of the team.

It wasn't nearly as cold in the concourse, so I unzipped my puffy black coat and perched on an uncomfortable blue metal bench, trying to kill time by texting back and forth with Zara and Noelle. I didn't tell them what happened because I was looking for a distraction. Plus, I didn't know what had happened.

Two minutes later, Chase appeared in the hallway from the dressing rooms. His face was tight and his posture even more stiff. I locked my phone and shoved it into my purse, standing up to greet him.

Chase leaned in, giving me a half-hearted kiss on the lips, pulling back again quickly. His expression was stormy, a mixture of emotions I couldn't quite read. He grabbed my hand, but he was silent as we walked to a quieter, more secluded area by the doors and sat down at a small metal table.

"What happened out there?" I tried to catch his eye, but he looked away, his gaze fixed on the white Formica speckled table between us. Like usual, Chase was too tall for the furniture and his grey suit-clad knees were angled out awkwardly.

"Just game stuff."

"Looked like more than just game stuff. Why did you get so mad?" I asked, voice low. Everyone else was back inside the arena watching the game, but I still felt like I had to speak quietly. "I was scared you were going to slit Luke's throat with a skate or something."

Chase shook his head. "Morrison was shooting off his mouth. He's been needling me for a while, and I finally snapped. That's all."

I reached across the table, taking his hand in line. He stroked my fingers with his thumb back and forth, but didn't look up at me.

"What did he say?"

"It's nothing, James." He became visibly more tense, cords in his neck tight. "Don't worry about it."

The fact that he wouldn't tell me had me that much more worried.

"Why are you being so weird?"

"I don't want to repeat it," Chase said, dark brown eyes snapping up to mine. His tone took on an edge that he never used with me. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Why? Was it about me?" But I already knew it was.

His jawline turned to granite. "Bailey." Now I knew it was serious because he never used my real name. "I really don't want to repeat it to you. It's gross and it's super disrespectful."

What the hell did Luke say?

"Well, now you have to tell me."

Chase's dark brow knit together, but he didn't reply. Stubborn as always. I was starting to get frustrated, though, because part of me felt like I had a right to know what Luke was saying about me, especially if it was that offensive.

I squeezed his hand. "Carter. Tell me, please."

"Fine." He loosened his tie and shifted his weight in his seat uncomfortably. "But I want it on the record that I didn't want to tell you and I'm only doing it so you're not upset with me."

"Stop stalling."

Chase swallowed. "Luke told me he broke up with Sophie, so I said, 'why the fuck would I care?' and he said..."

"He said...?"

"Then he said, and I quote..." Chase drew in a breath, nostrils flaring. "Because I seemed to like his sloppy seconds."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach.

"What?"

"Yeah, so basically my plan is to break both of his knees with a crowbar next time I see him off the ice." He paused. "If you could give me his address, that would really help move things along."

I opened my mouth to reply, but I didn't know what to even say.

"Carter!" a deep voice barked.

We both looked over to the dressing room entrance, where Coach Miller was standing with his hands on his hips. My heart sank at the very sight of him. His face was redder than the Falcons cap he was wearing, and fury radiated off his body. It didn't bode well for Chase.

"I have to go back and talk to Coach."

"Okay," I said. "I'll be waiting for you. Good luck."

"Carter!" Coach Miller barked, storming into the office. He threw himself down in his chair, leveling me with a poisonous glare. "What the hell was that about?"

"Nothing, Coach. I just lost my cool," I said, sinking down into the seat opposite him. "Won't happen again."

Technically, it was true. Next time I would be calm and methodical when I tore Morrison apart. I wouldn't make the mistake of snapping and giving him a warning signal.

"You were about to commit a felony out there." He pinned me with his beady eyes, expression stern. Then he softened a tiny fraction. "What did that Morrison kid say to you, son?"

I folded my arms, trying to keep my voice level. "I'd rather not discuss it. It was personal."

Coach Miller frowned. "If it was a slur or other inappropriate comment, you know there are rules against that. It can be reported to the league and the schools will get involved."

"Sorry. Can't say."

"I can take the three-game suspension down to two if I demonstrate mitigating circumstances to the league."

"I appreciate it, but I'll take the three."

Even if my stats will tank for it.

He sighed, steepling his fingers on the surface of his desk and staring at them. His eyes lifted to meet mine. "Look, I'm going easy on you because I think you've really turned a corner this year."

"Thank you."

"I'm going to let this go for now. But if you look at this Morrison again, it's going to be a lot longer than three games next time."

"Understood, Coach."

"And if you start a fight with him again, you're out for the rest of the season."

Fucking hell. We both knew I couldn't afford that.

"I won't," I said. "You have my word."

Fine, so I couldn't go after him on the ice.

But he didn't say anything about everyone else.

*

Getting reamed out by Miller didn't take very long. Unfortunately, Bailey and I still had to wait for the game to end before we could leave. Siobhan had driven Bailey and I gotten a ride with Dallas, which meant I didn't have my truck at the arena.

We killed time talking about anything but hockey, until the third period ended. Or trying to talk, because Bailey was unusually quiet after I came back out. I could tell she was upset by what I told her—which was why I didn't want to in the first place.

Relief washed over me as players from both teams started to filter out of the dressing rooms. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of here.

Suddenly, Bailey stiffened, gaze fixed in the direction of the concession stand. My head swiveled in the direction she was looking.

Morrison.

My vision tunneled and everything I just said to Coach Miller flew straight out the window.

I clenched my fists. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go annihilate that motherfu—"

"No." Bailey put a hand on my chest, pressing firmly. "Let me handle him."

I grunted, pressing my lips into a thin line, breath shallow and jagged. Morrison was so close. Right there. I could practically see my fist going into his face already. It was going to feel so good. The crunch would be music to my ears.

"Carter," she said. "Look at me."

I dropped my gaze to meet hers. Bailey looked back at me, hazel eyes calm. My blood pressure dropped a few notches.

"I love you," she said. "And I appreciate that you want to stand up for me, but I don't want you to get in trouble over Luke. He isn't worth it. I got this."

I sighed. "Fine."

There was nothing I could say to that. I wasn't going to get into an argument with her because of that asshole.

She reached up, looping her arms around my neck. I leaned closer and our mouths came together, lips parting. It was an interesting experience when I was already hopped up on adrenaline and testosterone. It made me want to bend her over the nearest hard surface and fuck her right here. It was definitely happening at home later.

Then she took me by the hand, pulling me halfway to where Luke stood with his friends.

"Wait here a sec, okay?"

"Okay," I said, even though I felt uneasy about it.

With zero idea what she was about to do, I leaned against a pillar and watched as Bailey marched up to Morrison. She wound up and slapped him so hard I could hear it from where I stood. It practically echoed through the concourse.

Oh snap. I wasn't expecting that. And neither was he. Sucker.

God, I fucking loved her.

Luke grabbed his cheek, mouth hanging open in shock. He looked over Bailey's shoulder and our eyes met. Her back was still turned to me.

"You're dead," I mouthed, making a throat-slitting gesture.

Sorry James, I only had so much restraint.

He paled, turning his gaze back to Bailey.

"Don't talk to me ever again." She spun on her heel, heading back to where I stood.

Luke dropped his hand, exposing a red hand mark on his face. It was beautiful. Really suited him. I had to admit, seeing Bailey lay the smackdown on Morrison might have been more satisfying than getting to do it myself.

"Bailey! What the hell was that?" Derek called, jogging to catch up with her. But she just kept walking back over to me.

"Luke knows," she said over her shoulder, long blonde hair bouncing as she speed-walked away. "Why don't you ask him?"

Bailey grabbed my hand, pulling me. "Let's go."

"No." Derek caught up to us. He gently touched her on the arm, ducking to meet her gaze. "B, tell me what's going on."

Bailey and I exchanged a look. She bit her bottom lip uncertainly and raised her eyebrows as if in question. I shrugged. This wasn't my place.

"Fine." She sighed. "Actually, why don't you tell him, Chase?"

So I did.

When I was finished, Derek's face contorted with rage. "What in the actual fuck?"

He stormed back over to Morrison and shoved him. Derek caught him off guard, sending him flying onto his ass.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Derek said, looming over him.

In the background, Paul watched the confrontation, expression torn. I'd like to say it was because he was good friends with both of them. But I suspected it was really because at the end of the day, Paul was a little bitch who didn't want to get into a tussle. Or even break one up, apparently.

Luke got up, dusting himself off. "What are you talking about?"

"What you said to Carter about my sister. You're a fucking asshole, man." Derek shoved him again, but this time he managed to keep his footing. "Bailey never did anything to you."

I watched, barely fighting back laughter. I could not contain my glee at this turn of events. Both people in the James family were beating on Morrison this evening. It was fantastic.

But I was also watching because if one of those other idiots stepped in to defend Morrison and touched Derek, I was going to wipe the fucking floor with all of them.

"What?" Luke scoffed. "Why would you trust Carter? He's obviously lying."

Mendez cleared his throat. "Actually, dude...I heard you say that in the locker room, too."

Oh, how the turn tables. Now everyone was starting to go against this dipshit. My night was improving by the second.

Amelia and Jillian looked at each other, eyes wide. Clearly, they didn't know what to make of everyone turning on their leader. I wondered which way Paul would land on this.

Luke's face reddened. "Obviously you misheard."

"Fuck you, man." Derek shook his head. "And to think I gave you the benefit of the doubt over and over again because we'd been friends for such a long time."

It was nice to see Derek take Bailey's side, even if it was long overdue.

"Derek," Luke said. "Come on—"

"We're done," Derek said. "Better watch your ass on the ice against Boyd next time, because I'm not doing shit if they come for you. And neither will any of our other D."

Derek turned and the three of us walked away from the crowd, coming to stand by the front entrance. He shook his head, exhaling heavily.

"I am so sorry, Bailey. I had no idea..." he trailed off. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Suddenly, I felt like this was a conversation I shouldn't be a part of.

"Do you want me to leave you two?" I asked Bailey. "I can go look for Ward."