Page 212 of Faking the Goal

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KENTARO

The moment Taylor and I enter the arena, we begin drifting toward the separate directions we're supposed to take—me toward the locker room to get ready for the game and her toward the entrance to the stands, where she'll be sitting to take photographs and cover it for Student Media. I'm still holding her hand, reluctant to let go even though I know I have to, when I notice someone standing near the opening that leads to the bleachers.

Corey.

He isn't doing anything. He isn't approaching us or trying to get Taylor's attention. He's simply standing there, staring at her with such a hollow, unsettling look in his eyes that every muscle in my body goes rigid. He looks at her as though she has betrayed him, as though she belonged to him and chose someone else, like some bitter ex-boyfriend who believes he has every right to resent her for moving on.

Except he was never her boyfriend.

Taylor's fingers tighten around mine before she takes a small step back, almost like her body reacts to Corey before she can stop it. Anger hits me so fast I have to clench my jaw. For one reckless second, I imagine grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him into the nearest wall for making her afraid.

The game is the only thing stopping me. If I put my hands on him now, I could be thrown out or suspended, leaving the team without its starting goalie. So I stay where I am, barely, while every protective instinct in me screams to find out why the hell he keeps looking at Taylor like she betrayed him.

Ever since Corey learned that Taylor and I were together, his behavior around her has become increasingly difficult to dismiss. I don't have enough evidence to accuse him of being the person who has been stalking her, and I know better than to treat suspicion like proof, but the possibility forces itself into my mind anyway. The resentment in his stare, the way he always seems to appear wherever she is, the possessiveness he has no right to feel—it's enough that I no longer want his name ignored. Campus Police needs to know about him, even if only so they can keep an eye on his behavior and decide for themselves whether there's anything worth investigating.

I release Taylor's hand only so I can wrap my arm securely around her shoulders and pull her closer to my side, putting myself between her and Corey as much as I can without making a scene.

"Come with me to the locker room," I murmur, keeping my voice low enough that only she can hear. "You can wait there until the game starts."

Thank God she doesn't argue, because normally she would.

She glances back toward Corey before giving me a small nod, and the fact that she's scared enough to agree without a fight makes me want to break something even more.

I guide her toward the restricted hallway without taking my arm from around her, still feeling Corey's stare on us until we turn the corner.

"Caroline is coming tonight, so I'll ask Zach to make sure she sits with you. Stay with her while you're in the stands, and don't go anywhere alone."

Taylor glances up at me, some of her usual resistance already returning. "Ken-chan, I can't ask Caroline to follow me around all night. She came here to watch Zach play, not babysit me."

"She'll already be sitting in the same stands."

"But she might want to sit somewhere else or spend time with other people before the game."

"Trouble." I stop and turn her toward me, keeping my hands on her shoulders until she meets my eyes. "I'm about to spend the next few hours with pucks being fired at me. I need to focus, and I won't be able to do that if I'm wondering whether you're alone somewhere in this arena with some asshole following you around." My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but I don't take it back. "You staying with Caroline is the only way I'm stepping onto that ice with any peace of mind."

Her expression softens. "I just don't want to inconvenience anyone."

"You're not. Besides, Caroline is nice. I'm sure she won't mind."

She lets out a slow breath, then nods. "Fine. I'll stay with Caroline."

"Good."

"But I'm not letting her follow me into the bathroom."

Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitches. "She can stand outside and yell through the door."

Taylor gives me a tired glare, but some of the tension finally leaves her shoulders. I slide my arm around her again and lead her toward the locker room.

The game has been a grind from the opening faceoff.

Every save feels harder than the last. Every whistle is followed by another relentless wave of pressure as the opposing team refuses to let up, determined to find the one crack in our defense they haven't managed to exploit yet. My legs are starting to feel heavy from dropping into butterfly after butterfly, my lungs burning with every push across the crease, but there's no room to think about exhaustion. Not when we're clinging to a one-goal lead with barely half the third period left.

The scoreboard above the ice shows the Ridgewater Warriors clinging to a 1–0 lead.

The entire team is feeling the weight of tonight's game. It doesn't help that we're playing without our captain. Sam is in the middle of treatment, and Elijah made the only decision he could live with—staying by her side instead of stepping onto the ice. As much as he wanted to be here with us, everyone knew his mind would've been back at the hospital anyway.