“I’m not stupid,” he snapped. “I have eyes.” He gestured sharply at the house. “And I still have access to the security cameras.”

  “To the—” My words caught in my throat. Wyatt and I had never fucked in view of any of the cameras, but that was about the only thing we hadn’t done with a lens nearby. It just hadn’t dawned on me that my ex would fucking check the cameras. Anger surged in me. “You’ve been spying on us? What the hell?”

  He laughed sharply. “It’s my house, too, you know.”

  “That doesn’t mean you need to be accessing the cameras just for—you moved out, Simon! You don’t get to just violate my privacy because your name is on the mortgage!”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but right then, his phone chimed. He glanced at it, then dropped it back in the cupholder. “We have to go, or we’ll be late.”

  I rolled my eyes. For fuck’s sake.

  But he was right, and the last thing we needed was to be disciplined for showing up late. Or showing up and getting into a spat. Or showing up after a spat and not being able to concentrate on hockey.

  I sighed. We still needed to talk about this, but as I always did, I bit back everything I wanted to let fly. I wanted to throw the fuck down over it and let him know exactly how pissed I was, but as soon as we started up the driveway, I shifted into my usual mode of trying to settle things. We had to be on our game at practice. We couldn’t afford this tension, no matter how fucking pissed I was at him.

  Just like we couldn’t whenever I was pissed at him. Or whenever we were disagreeing.

  I pressed back against the passenger seat. I hated this. I fucking hated how every time we had some kind of dispute, we had to put a pin in it during our drive to a practice or a game. So many of our fights had died away like this. He’d let me have it, and then about the time I was finally getting a word in edgewise, we’d have to drop it so we could go. Or if I was pissed or concerned about something in the evening, he’d blow me off until the next morning… when we’d have to put it aside again in the name of not being at each other’s throats in front of the team. When I wanted to fight so fucking bad, but instead, I’d shift into peacekeeping and damage control mode so our teammates wouldn’t catch on.

  And of course, by the time we finally had the opportunity to address it, he’d wonder why I was still hung up on whatever it was, and he’d want to let it go.

  We never hashed any of it out. We never fought the fights that I needed to fight.

  Because we were always in the car on the way to hockey when we talked about it. Always. Fucking always.

  I faced him and narrowed my eyes. “You’ve been doing this on purpose all along.”

  He glanced at me. “Doing what? What are you talking about?”

  “This is a ploy to keep me from pushing back against anything. You always want to talk about things on the way to the rink or the arena, but you know I won’t fight when we’re—” I tore my gaze away from him. “Jesus Christ. Seriously?”

  “What?” He shrugged with an infuriating amount of dismissiveness. “Do you want to fight before hockey?”

  “No! Of course not! And I think you’re taking advantage of that because you don’t want to fight at all.”

  Simon huffed. “So you want to fight.”

  “I want—” I groaned. “For God’s sake. No, I don’t want to fight. But I also didn’t want to just let things fester when we were together, and I don’t want to do it now. But I always did because you always wanted to discuss it now when you knew I’d do everything I could to defuse it. What the hell?”

  He stared at the road but didn’t say anything. He didn’t deny it. Didn’t try to defend it. On brand for him when he knew I was right and he didn’t want to admit he was wrong.

  Fury had my fists tightening in my lap. “You just do it to make me back down, don’t you? You know I’m way more willing to smooth things over when we’re on our way in, because I actually give a fuck about us walking in there without all this tension between us. So you fucking bring up that you’ve been watching me and Wyatt on the cameras”—I gestured behind us to indicate the house we ‘d once shared—“because you know no matter how pissed I am over it, we’ll have to—”

  “So you want to fight about it?” he threw back. “You want to be going at it when we get there so everyone knows we’re—”

  “What the fuck difference is it going to make this time? I am pissed. And I’m tired of this bullshit. So let’s just have it out where—”

  “And then what, Anthony?” he growled. “You want the team to find out about us? Huh? Is that what you want?”

  God, I wanted to let fly and tell him I didn’t care. Let’s do this right the fuck now and stop pussyfooting around everything.

  But… I did care. And I had a hell of a lot more to lose than he did if things got out.

  I pressed my elbow beneath the window and rubbed my stiffening neck. “Let’s just get to practice.”

  Neither of us said another word for the rest of the drive.

  So I was still fuming. I still felt violated. I was still livid.

  But I couldn’t say or do a goddamned thing.

  Chapter 38

  Wyatt

  I’d hoped our flirtation this morning would be enough to keep Anthony’s mood light until he came home, but I’d known it probably wouldn’t. Not after driving in, practicing with his team, attending a team meeting, and whatever else he’d had to do before Simon dropped him off back here. I’d hoped it would help, at least, but I’d fully expected him to come home tired and frustrated.

  What I didn’t anticipate was how visibly rattled he’d be when he shuffled in through the door. Even his cats thundering into the kitchen and onto the counter, chirping and purring, wasn’t enough to brighten his mood.

  Alarm had me on my feet and hurrying into the kitchen. “Hey.” I touched the small of his back. “You okay?”

  Anthony pressed his lips together, refusing to look at me as he petted Moose, who was purring and bumping his head against him.

  “Anthony?” I rubbed my hand up and down his back. “What’s going on?”

  He sighed and faced me, wrapping his arms around me. That much was a relief—whatever the issue was, he wasn’t pushing me away. Voice heavy with frustration and fatigue, he said, “Simon knows about us.”

  “Oh.” I studied him. “That’s… I mean, you said he had his suspicions, right?”

  “Yeah.” Anthony let me go and sagged against the counter, rubbing his forehead. He dropped his hand onto the counter’s edge and met my gaze with worried, exhausted eyes. “But he knows.” Scowling, he gestured above the cabinets.

  I turned to see what he was pointing at, and when I made the connection, my heart plummeted into my feet. Head snapping back toward Anthony, I said, “He’s been watching us?”

  Anthony nodded slowly. “I don’t know how much he’s seen. I don’t know how many times he’s—” His shoulders sagged as he deflated and raked a hand through his hair. “It didn’t even occur to me that he’d check them. I knew he still had access, but like, why would he bother checking if there wasn’t an alarm, you know? I didn’t think he’d…”

  “Hey. Hey.” I cupped his face in both hands. “Baby. Look at me.” When he did, I whispered, “This isn’t your fault. I knew the cameras were there too, and I didn’t think about it either. It’s a douchey fucking thing to do.”

  “It is. I shouldn’t even be surprised, but…” He sighed. “Here we fucking are.”

  Yeah. There we fucking were.

  I studied him. “Is he going to out us?”

  Anthony pursed his lips. After a moment, he gave his head a slow shake. “I don’t think so. We both know I’m way more fucked than he is if this gets out, but he doesn’t want to cause problems for other teammate couples.” He sighed. “I don’t think he wants the gossip either. It makes his skin crawl when people are talking about us in positive ways. I… don’t think he’d like what happens if we’re at the center of a scandal.”

  Well, that was a relief.

  “I just feel disgusting.” He chafed his arms, eyeing the camera above the cabinets. “I’m so tempted to take those things down for good.”

  “You could change the password.”

  Anthony scowled. Then he took out his phone. “I’m going to do that right the hell now.”

  “Good.” While he went through those motions, I gnawed my lip. I felt disgusting, knowing Simon had creeped on us while we were fooling around, but more than anything, I was worried. About what Simon might do with that information. About Anthony. About what Simon’s bullshit might mean for us going forward. Anthony was already stressed enough over keeping their breakup a secret. How much more did he want to pile on his plate?

  “There.” He put his phone facedown on the counter. “Password is changed. He won’t have access to any of it.” He cut his eyes toward the door. “I’m half-tempted to change the locks and reprogram the garage door opener, too.”

  “Might not be a bad idea.”

  He seemed to consider it for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No. It is his house. I don’t like him being able to barge in whenever he feels like it, but I have to keep the peace with him, too.”

  “You should be able to have some peace, though,” I said gently. “He shouldn’t be able to cause you this much headache, you know? Especially in your own home?”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I…” Shoulders sagging, he leaned against the island. “Not gonna lie—I’m afraid to provoke him.”

  I straightened. “Do you think he’d do something out of pocket?”

  “No, no. I mean, I don’t think he’d get violent or anything.” A faint laugh escaped his lips. “This is someone who’s gone his whole hockey career without ever getting into a fight. He can be an asshole, but he’s not that kind of asshole.”

  “That’s good, I guess. But what do you think he would do?”

  Sighing, Anthony rubbed the back of his neck, looking for all the world like exhaustion was about to knock him on his ass. “Out us to the team? Be a dick to you? Just… be insufferable when we’re stuck together on the road?” He dropped his hand to the counter’s edge with a heavy smack. “Hell, you know what I figured out this morning?”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  Anthony laughed bitterly. “He’s always done this thing where if we’re arguing about something or I’m upset about something, he says, ‘Let’s talk about it in the car.’ On the way to practice or a game—whatever. And I’m so fucking stupid, it took me until today to realize he does that because he knows I’ll back down.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have to look like a happy couple whenever we’re out in public,” he explained. “Especially when we’re practicing or playing. If we’ve been fighting, it’s pretty obvious, so I always try to defuse things if we’re on our way to someplace where we have to be a happy couple.” He rolled his eyes and raked a hand through his hair. “Son of a bitch has been deliberately putting off any arguments or confrontations until he knows I won’t argue or confront him.”

  “Because he knows you’ll let it go,” I murmured, my heart sinking at the same time fury rose in my chest.

  “Exactly. God, I’m so stupid.”

  “No, you’re not.” I put my hands on his waist and kissed him softly. “You were trying to make things work with him. You’re trying to make things work with your team. It’s not your fault he was manipulating you.”

  “I should’ve seen it, though.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in close. “You’re not stupid. And you try to see the best in people. Especially people you love.”

  Anthony returned my embrace as he pushed out another breath. “I need to grow a spine with him, though. Tell him how it is, and how it’s going to be going forward.” He paused. “And not in the car on the way to the arena.”

  “Maybe it’s time to do it on your terms, then.” I drew back to meet his tired eyes. “Confront him and tell him you’re having it out, then and there.”

  Anthony’s lips quirked. “I do know where he lives. He’ll be pissed as hell if I show up on his doorstep, but…” He shrugged tightly. “Honestly, I don’t even care right now. I’m just done.”

  “As well you should be. Is that what you want to do, then? Show up and have it out with him?”

  He seemed to consider it, then nodded. “Yeah. Not right this minute, but… yeah. I think that’s what I need to do.”

  I didn’t blame him for putting it off. He’d just come home from practice and probably still wanted to wind down a bit. Tired as he was right now, I didn’t imagine he was in the headspace for a confrontation.

  “Well, for right now, there’s still some daylight left and the weather is decent.” I tipped my head toward the front window, where the afternoon sun was peering through the clouds. “Let’s take the animals out.”

  Anthony looked in that direction, and as he released his breath, some tension left his neck and shoulders. Slowly, a smile formed. Meeting my gaze, he said, “That sounds like a great idea. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 39

  Anthony

  I’d never been to this place before. I had the address, but I’d never had any reason to come here.

  First time for everything, I guess.

  I felt a million times better after taking Lily and the cats for a walk with Wyatt. I was more centered. More relaxed. I’d had some time to decompress, and I was as ready to do this as I ever would be.

  I pulled into one of the guest spots, and before I lost my nerve, I got up and followed the signs to apartment 3B. Without giving myself a chance to think twice, I banged on the door.

  The door didn’t open, but Simon’s voice came through the Ring speaker: “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “We can talk in the car.”

  I pushed out a breath. “No. That’s not gonna work this time.” I looked right into the lens of the Ring camera. “We can either talk in your apartment, or I can do this out here where all your neighbors can hear it.”

  Silence.

  Then, footsteps.

  I had time for one deep breath before the door flew open.

  Simon glared at me across the threshold. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk.”

  He eyed me. Then he looked around, exhaled, and gestured for me to come in. “All right.” He shut the door behind me. “Let’s talk.”

  I faced him, arms crossed because I didn’t give a damn if I looked confrontational or defensive right now. I wasn’t here to put him at ease. Looking him right in the eye, I said, “All this bullshit between you and me? It stops right now.”

  He folded his own arms and leaned against the door. “Is that right?”

  “Yes. We have to coexist, Simon. We’re teammates, and we’re both stuck because of the club’s rules. And I don’t know about you, but all this tension and arguing? It’s exhausting.”

  His shrug wasn’t nearly as dismissive as he probably intended it to be, and he couldn’t quite hold my gaze anymore. “It would be a lot easier if you weren’t flaunting your new boyfriend right under my—”

  “I’m not flaunting a damn thing,” I snapped, but quickly realize that wasn’t going to help the situation. Schooling my tone, I said, “Would it be easier if we drove from your place to practices and games? Instead of you coming by the—”

  “It’s my house too,” he hissed.

  “Yes. It is. But you left. And Wyatt is there now.” I showed my palms. “What solution would you prefer?”

  “Besides him not being there at all?”

  “Not an option.”

  Simon’s face contorted with all kinds of emotions. Anger, but also deep hurt.

  I exhaled. “Simon. You broke up with me. This is—I thought this was what you wanted.”

  He chewed his lip and slouched against the door. “When I broke up with you, I thought you’d at least try to win me back, but you already had him waiting in the wings, so you forgot all about me.”

  I blinked, trying to make sense of everything he’d just said. “Wait, wait. Back up. First, I did not have him waiting in the wings. It never even occurred to me to get involved with him until after we’d split up.” I narrowed my eyes. “And since you’ve obviously been spying through the cameras, you fucking know nothing started while I was still with you.”

  His expression screamed skepticism.

  I barreled on anyway. “What do you mean, you thought I’d try to win you back, anyway? What does that even mean?”

  “It means exactly what it sounds like,” he snapped. “I thought you’d want us to get back—”

  “So you dumped me?” I threw up my hands. “I’ve been trying to fix us since before you moved out! What did you think I was going to do differently once you ended it?”

  “You just wanted to talk about shit,” he said. “You didn’t want to be together. You just wanted to nitpick every fucking thing until—”

  “I wanted to talk about our problems!” I groaned and shoved a hand through my hair. “Jesus Christ, Simon. Do you think that was fun for me? Trying to talk about shit? I wanted us to get back on the rails, but we weren’t going to get there until we did something about our problems.”

  “Please.” He waved dismissively. “You were just looking for reasons to blame me for everything.”

  I pushed out a breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. Then I dropped my hand and met his gaze. “Fine. You tell me—what exactly should I have been doing differently? Because that was the only way I knew how to figure this out.”

  “You could’ve acted like you wanted me once in a while.”

  I blinked. “What? Like, in bed?”

  “That would’ve been a good start.”

  “But… I did. The only times I didn’t—I mean, did you want me to initiate things when you were mad at me? When I couldn’t even speak to you without you snapping at me or cold-shouldering me?”