Chapter 199: Damian Fernadez

Chapter 199: Damian Fernadez

Kayden

Who was Damian Fernandez to Rhys?

That question wouldn’t leave me alone. It looped through my mind with every step I took down the corridor toward the locker room, growing heavier the closer I got.

The win should have felt good — we had just pulled off a dramatic shootout victory in Game 4, the kind of night that usually had the whole team buzzing for hours. But all I could see was that red Ferrari pulling into the private parking lot,

By the time I pushed open the locker room door, the celebration was already in full swing. Music thumped from someone’s portable speaker, bass vibrating through the benches.

The boys were shouting Luca’s name, clapping each other on the back, popping bottles of sports drink, and a few sneaky beers someone must have smuggled in.

The air smelled like sweat, icy hot, and victory. Laughter bounced off the walls, and a couple of the younger players were already reenacting Luca’s game-winning shot with exaggerated dekes and glove saves.

Under normal circumstances, I would have been right in the middle of it, yelling along and soaking up the high.

Tonight, though, the noise felt distant, like it was happening in another room.

I couldn’t stop replaying the parking lot scene. Rhys standing alone under the lights. The low growl of the Ferrari engine. Damian leaning in close, whispering something that made Rhys explode.

The shove, the pinning, the raw anger in Rhys’s voice when he told Damian to get the hell out of his life.

My stomach twisted every time the memory surfaced. I tried to shake it off, telling myself I was reading too much into a post-game confrontation between rivals, but the look on Damian’s face when he said "I miss you" kept coming back.

I was so wrapped up in my own head that I didn’t even see Miller and Leo until I walked straight into Miller’s shoulder.

They were tucked into their usual corner near the lockers, caught in one of their classic arguments.

Miller had Leo backed against the metal doors, one hand planted beside Leo’s head, the other gesturing as he grinned down at him with that cocky, teasing expression he only ever wore around Leo.

Leo, on the other hand, was frowning hard, arms crossed, firing off his usual dramatic complaints about Miller’s "reckless defensive plays" and "complete lack of spatial awareness on the ice."

"Hey," Leo noticed me first. He straightened up, eyes narrowing as he took in my face. "Something going on with you?"

I blinked, caught off guard. My mouth opened, but nothing came out right away.

Maybe I was overthinking the whole thing. Maybe the connection I had witnessed on the ice and in the parking lot was nothing more than leftover rivalry mixed with the heat of a hard-fought game.

But the way they had looked at each other... that wasn’t nothing. It was the kind of stare that carried years.

Leo wasn’t letting it go. He snapped his fingers right in front of my eyes. "Earth to Kayden. You look pale as hell. Are you sick? Exhausted from the shootout? I can call the medical team over right now if you need someone to check you out. They’re still here wrapping up and—"

"I’m fine," I said quickly, cutting him off before he could launch into full doctor mode. "Really."

Leo didn’t buy it. He stepped closer, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead like a worried parent. Then he started circling me slowly, lifting my arms one by one to inspect for bruises or strains, even though I hadn’t taken a single illegal hit all night. "No fever," he muttered. "No obvious injuries. Physically you check out, so what’s really eating at you?" He stopped in front of me, arms folded tight across his chest, glasses slightly askew from the celebration. "Come on, Kayden. What’s going on?"

I scratched at my forehead, buying time while the question burned hotter in my chest. Should I tell them?

Leo was relentless when he sensed something was off, and Miller had known Rhys longer than almost anyone else on the team. But spilling what I had seen felt like betraying Rhys before I even understood it myself.

"So tell me," Leo said as his hand clamped down on my shoulder.

I met his eyes and let out a long, tired sigh. "It’s Rhys."

Miller’s head snapped around immediately, scanning the noisy locker room. "Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him since we were all lifting Luca on the ice. Where did he disappear to?"

I sighed again and glanced at Miller, who was watching me with a furrowed brow. The words came out quieter than I meant them to. "Who is Damian Fernandez to Rhys?" I swallowed hard right after, like saying the name out loud made it more real.

Miller’s eyebrows shot up. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so it wouldn’t carry over the music. "Is everything okay? Why isn’t Rhys here? Where did he go after the game?"

I shrugged, not ready to give more details yet.

"There’s got to be a reason you’re asking this," Miller said carefully.

"I just want to know," I replied, my voice tighter than I intended. "Alright?"

Miller studied me for a long moment, his usual easy grin fading. Then his face softened, like he was deciding how much to share. "Rhys and Damian... they used to be a thing back in college."

"A thing? Like a rival thing?" Leo asked, adjusting his glasses as he leaned in.

Miller shook his head slowly. "No. They used to be boyfriends."

The words landed like a hard check into the boards. Something heavy slammed into my chest, and my heart started pounding so loud I was sure the whole room could hear it.

They used to be boyfriends. The sentence echoed in my skull, over and over, drowning out the music and the laughter around us. It explained the intense stares across the ice during the shootout. It explained the "I miss you" mouthed so clearly.

It explained why Rhys had shoved Damian against that Ferrari and told him to stay out of his life with so much venom.

"So where is Rhys now?" Leo’s voice rose sharply, loud enough that a few heads turned our way from across the room. "I need some kind of explanation before I—" He caught himself and waved the curious teammates off with an impatient gesture. "I wasn’t talking to you guys. Private conversation here, mind your business."

The others quickly looked away, going back to their celebrating.

Leo turned back to me. "There has to be a reason you’re asking this specific question, Kayden. Did you see Rhys with Damian after the game? Did you walk in on them talking or—"

Miller rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. "That can’t happen. They broke up years ago, back in their third year of college. Rhys never went back to him after that. It was messy, but it was over."

Leo scoffed, folding his arms tighter. "Ever heard of rekindling an old flame? Things like that happen all the time, especially when emotions are running high after a game like tonight."

"I’m a hundred percent sure that won’t happen," Miller said firmly, shaking his head. "Rhys loves Kayden. I’ve seen the way he looks at him. That’s real."

Leo made another skeptical sound but didn’t push it further this time.

I stood there between them, my mind reeling from what I have heard.

They used to be boyfriends. The revelation kept repeating, louder each time.

Why hadn’t Rhys ever mentioned it? We had promised each other — no secrets, no hiding things that mattered. So why keep something this big from me? The trust we had built felt suddenly fragile, like one wrong breath could crack it wide open.

"Did anything actually happen out there, Kayden?" Leo tried again, his tone softening with concern. "Did you see something between them that—"

"No, I didn’t," I lied, cutting him off before he could dig deeper. There was no way I was telling them the full story yet. I wasn’t even sure what I had witnessed meant.

Rhys would never do anything to hurt me on purpose. I had to believe that. "Look, I just need to shower and get some rest. Excuse me."

"Kayden..." Leo called after me.

"Truly, I’m fine," I said, turning back with the best smile I could force. "Maybe I’m just tired from the game, that’s all."

He nodded reluctantly, though I could tell he wasn’t fully convinced. He turned back to Miller, and within seconds they were arguing again, picking up right where they had left off.

I made my way to my locker on autopilot, anger and confusion churning in my gut. I yanked the door open harder than necessary and immediately dug for my phone. Even though I had told Leo and Miller I was okay, I wasn’t. Not even close. The new information sat like a stone in my stomach.

"Alright," I muttered under my breath, "let’s see where this gets me." My thumb scrolled through contacts until I reached Rhys’s name. I typed out a simple text: Where are you?

I hit send and waited. Seconds stretched into a full minute, then two. To kill the time, I started biting at the skin around my fingernails, my eyes locked on the screen.

When the message finally popped up, my heart jumped with a mix of anticipation and dread.

My father called. I’ll be back in an hour or two.

My shoulders slumped instantly. He was lying. I had seen him in that parking lot with Damian.

Why lie to me about something so simple? What was he hiding?

I shoved the phone back into my bag, stripped off my jersey, skates and replaced them with casual wear and shoes then

The locker door slammed shut with a loud metallic bang, but no one noticed over the blasting music and the team singing some off-key victory chant about the Northern Avalanche taking the Cup.

I didn’t bother heading to the showers. The last thing I wanted was to stand under hot water pretending everything was normal while my mind kept spinning.

I just wanted to get out of here, go home to my own place, crawl into my cold bed, and wish the entire night had been nothing but a bad dream.

I pulled my phone out one last time and opened the ride app. My thumb hovered for a second before I selected my own address instead of Rhys’s apartment.