Chapter 136: Behind closed doors

Chapter 136: Behind closed doors

Kayden

Westbridge Falcons. Hearing the name of my previous team brought back a flood of memories that I had thought would be buried with them.

But now, hearing the Coach say the name made my blood boil.

Months ago, when I had thought that I was going to make the senior team, I was sidelined because the CEO and coach hated my guts. Their son was a part of the team and I was an obstacle to achieving greatness, so they decided to trade me. Luckily for me, the Northern Avalanche saw potential in me.

"So Kayden," the Coach’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. "Is there anything we need to know about this team? Since you..."

I shook my head immediately, trying so hard not to remember the harsh practices I had to go through while under them; I didn’t want to revisit that.

Rhys seemed to notice how I had shifted in my seat. He didn’t look at me, didn’t even say anything, but he held my hand tightly.

"Come on, Vale, can we get any bit of information about them?" Jaxson asked.

"No," I kept my reply short and simple, making sure everyone on the bus understood that I was not going to talk about it anymore.

Coach Reddick clapped his hands, gaining our attention again. "Alright, everyone. We will figure something out because this year, again, the cup is ours no matter what," he said, and then went on about how the practice would go.

I turned toward the window while listening to him and closed my eyes.

My cheekbone was still throbbing from where the reporter had hit me earlier, but having Rhys’s hand in mine made me relax. It was just what I needed.

A moment later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I fluttered my eyes open and saw Rhys waving his hand in front of my face. Before I could speak, the Coach was on his feet yawning, then he clapped his hands.

"Alright everyone, listen up. We have arrived at the Glacier Dome and you all can go to your homes," he announced as the bus pulled into the lot. "Get out. Go home, get some sleep. I expect every one of you on the ice at 6:00 AM sharp. If you are a second late, you are skating laps until you puke," he threatened, pointing fingers at every one of us. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Coach," we all shouted in response, and soon, everyone started getting up and filing off the bus.

Rhys finally let go of my hand as he stood up to exit. The sudden loss of warmth made me feel exposed, but I forced myself to put on a smile because I knew all of this was a lie. We both agreed to this until the truth could come out.

"You okay?" Miller asked as he walked past me. He stared at my bruised face with a mix of anger and concern. "Oh, it’s going to turn purple. Leo should help you look at it before you go home," he suggested.

I shook my head in response. "That won’t be necessary. I’d prefer it if I just went home and put an ice pack on it."

Miller groaned. "That stupid reporter is lucky Rhys didn’t deck him. And where is Rhys, by the way? You are going home together, right?" He looked around, searching for Rhys who was already off the bus.

"I..." I scratched the back of my head, trying to come up with lies I could feed him, knowing how observant he always was. "He..."

"Hey, Miller," Leo’s voice sounded beside him as he came back to the bus after leaving seconds ago. "Mind if I check your leg again before you go home?"

I cleared my throat and stood up from my seat, then I gave both of them a questioning look, glancing from one to another. "Uhm... are you two..."

"Miller, now!" Leo shouted, turning to leave before I could ask any other questions.

I turned toward Miller and he just shrugged. "I know something is going on with you two," I teased.

Miller looked away, avoiding my eyes. "It must have been the hit you took to the head. Get it checked," he said and patted me before walking out of the bus.

I chuckled, watching as he left, and then climbed down right after him. I spoke with a few of our teammates while looking around for Rhys, but he was nowhere in sight.

Just then, my phone vibrated in my hoodie pocket. I brought it out and saw a text from Rhys on the screen. I looked around to see if I could catch a glimpse of him before I read his message, but there was no sign of him.

I looked down at my phone and read the message: I already booked a ride for us. Come outside, I am waiting.

A smile spread across my face as I read the message over again before heading out of the gates.

Once I was out, I came face to face with a car right at the gate with its headlights on. Rhys wasn’t outside, but I already knew why.

Anyone—reporters, fans—could be lurking around, looking for something to get their hands on.

I opened the door and entered the backseat. Rhys was already inside with his eyes on his phone.

As soon as I entered, he muttered a word to the driver and we started moving. He didn’t say anything to me, just kept staring at his phone.

I knew we were still pretending since we were in public, so I moved closer to the window and stared outside.

Then I felt his frame draw closer to me, and I felt his head rest on my shoulder. I said nothing and instead placed a hand on the side of his face, and he laid his hand in mine.

The ride back to the house was in silence, and as soon as we arrived, I heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that we were back in our safe haven.

We got out of the car and watched as it left.

There was a distance between Rhys and me when we walked toward the house, and we kept it until we reached the front door.

"I am so tired of pretending," he groaned, pulling me into his arms before opening the door.

"Rhys, we are still outside," I reminded him.

My voice was barely a whisper. I was hyper-aware of the lights and the shadows of the trees, because who knew who could be hiding in the shadows of his home?

"I don’t care," he responded. His voice didn’t sound like the cold, calculated tone he had used at the airport. It was soft, filled with a heavy hunger and desperation that made my knees weak. "I am so tired of pretending," he groaned again as he opened the door.

The second we were inside the apartment, Rhys didn’t wait. He didn’t even let me drop my bag, nor did he bother dropping his own. He shoved me back against the wood of the door and kissed me.

I felt his tongue in my mouth and I began to kiss him back, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until there wasn’t a single atom of air left between us.

When he finally pulled back, we both panted for breath, and he rested his forehead against mine. "I hated it," he rasped, his blue eyes turning dark. "Standing there while that reporter hit you, looking at you like you were just a teammate and not my lover... it made me almost fall apart. I know it’s going to get worse, and I am worried if I can control myself," he muttered. He reached up, his thumb grazing the bruised skin of my cheekbone.

I winced involuntarily, the sharp sting of the microphone’s impact still fresh.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Let me see. Let me look at your head, Kayden."

He gently turned my face toward the light and sighed.

"It’s just a bruise, Rhys. It’s nothing serious and..." I tried to say something else, to assure him that I was going to be fine, but my voice failed me.

"It’s not just a bruise. It’s a price you shouldn’t have to pay, and all of this happened because of those darn reporters," he seethed. He pulled me into his arms, hugging me so tight and burying his face in the crook of my neck.

I felt the vibration of his voice against my skin as he spoke up again. "My grandfather sent me a text, Kayden."

I said nothing and just listened, paying attention to what he had to say. For a few seconds, he was silent, and I began to wonder what he was holding back. "Rhys..." I pulled back slightly, searching his face for a response. "What did he do?"

"He sent a text. He went to visit your father in prison."

The blood drained from my face so fast the world tilted. I had to grab onto Rhys’s shoulders to keep myself from falling.