Shea

Tucker and I almost collide in the hallway upstairs. I've almost ripped this house apart searching for my phone. It's nowhere to be seen, which is frustrating me.

"Shit," I mutter, regaining my balance.

"Sorry," Hunter says.

He looks disoriented. I wonder if it's his meds, but I bite my tongue. Poor kid. He must be in a lot of pain. I can't imagine the loud music is good for his concussion. I may need to stop looking for my phone and get him out of here. He should've stayed home with Brenna. Not just to keep her company but to help with the healing process.

I rest a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, man?"

Hunter's shoulders slouch. "I'm exhausted. I want to find my phone and get the hell out of here. Not that I'm worried. There's a reason I don't have a passcode. Nothing to hide and nothing important resides on that phone. I just need it to contact people."

My grip on his shoulder tightens. "Wait. You can't find your phone, either?"

He shakes his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His shoes make a squeaky noise against the polished hardwood flooring. The expression on Hunter's face also reads skeptical. He's looking at me as if I'm the definition of ridiculous.

Maybe I am. But don't tell me both of us losing our phones is a coincidence. Especially when Connor is in the house.

After several seconds of silence flitter by, in which my mind convinces itself Connor is behind this, Hunter speaks. "Dude. What is going on? You look like a madman."

I release Hunter's shoulder, making my gaze level with his. "My phone is missing, too. I haven't been able to find it all night."

His eyebrows furrow. "What? That doesn't make any—shit."

Realization dawns on him.

I set my lips in a firm line and nod. "It would make sense. Brenna trusts us the most. Snagging our phones..." I trail off, running an aggressive hand through my hair. "He probably used my phone to text Brenna first, claiming I'm wasted or something. Bet that asshole didn't even think about slurring the text message."

Hunter snorts. "Probably not. He's pretty damn stupid. But everyone knows I'm not drinking. If Connor posed as me to confirm you being drunk... Brenna would worry about you, Shea."

I turn away, kicking the corner of the small table in the hallway. "Fucking Connor. I'm going to kill him."

"We all want to," Hunter replies. "But just remember that murder is too expensive. We should go downstairs and wait for Brenna. If Connor doesn't see her, then whatever he's planning won't happen. Not that she'll believe whatever he tries to spin. Connor's proven himself untrustworthy, and Brenna's pretty set that you're trustworthy."

I glance at Tucker. "Do you trust me?"

He nods. "Brenna's an excellent judge of character. Besides, you told her about the bet. Later than I wanted, but you still told her." Hunter stops beside me, using his elbow to poke at my ribs. "Plus, you showed up at the hospital. Maybe you're not too bad, Smith."

Before I can process his words, I've pulled him into a hug. His posture is stiff at first, but it relaxes and he hugs me back. "You're not too bad either, Tucker."

He claps me on the back, then pulls away. There's a wry grin on his face. "C'mon. Let's find Brenna. Wait, no. You head to the front door and loiter around there. That way, if Brenna arrives, you can stop her. I'll search the house for KJ or Jayden. If they have their phones, I'll try to call Brenna. Then, when this shit is over, we'll get our phones back."

I give him an affirmative nod, then we're off.

Downstairs, the music is still blasting. I can feel every beat in my body as I push through the crowded hallway to the entryway. If Brenna shows up, I'll tell her what's going on. Then I'll walk her to my place—the walk is about ten minutes. The guys can then come over to my place and we'll hang out. Coming to this party was a mistake. We played right into Connor's hands.

I lean against the wall, hidden in the shadows. No. You know what? Fuck Connor. Brenna and the rest of us play hockey together. Parties like these are meant for bonding, even if you're on opposing teams. There are plenty of guys I call my friends, and I'd love to play a game of beer pong with them. Connor's need to pull strings isn't something we should suffer from. It's unfair.

Expelling a deep sigh, I rub my jaw and glance at the ceiling. I hope Hunter finds KJ or Jayden soon. Or Brenna arrives. Without my phone, I'm unsure of the time. It's hard to say how long Connor's had my phone. By the time I noticed it was missing, he could've already texted Brenna.

I suppress a groan, my mood turning sour. For once, can I just be a teenager? All I want to do is play hockey and hang with my friends while pushing through schoolwork and work. That's typical for a teenager. Looking after my sister, wishing my parents would divorce, and fighting a narcissistic asshole are not normal situations.

Time ticks by. I can't stand still. With stress weighing on my shoulders, I pace the width of the hallway. Thoughts continue to run through my head. It's treacherous.

Eventually, Hunter, Jayden, and KJ show up. My posture straightens and I stop pacing. "Did you guys contact her?"

KJ shakes his head. "Either she's still driving or she's here and can't hear her phone ringing. We should search the house."

Jayden glances at the door. His expression is uneasy.

"What do you think we should do, Jayden?" I ask.

He sighs. "I think we scope out Connor. Face the music. If he doesn't get his way tonight, I'm worried he'll do something worse." He looks at me. "What do you think he's planning?"

It's hard to say. Ever since Brenna and I agreed to bend the bet to better suit ourselves, there has been little blackmail for Connor to access. He can't derail my chances at hockey, either. Both coaches could convince the board to remove the rule about dating. Not just for mine and Brenna's benefit, but for Jayden's too. For anyone's.

If Connor wanted to do anything, it'd have to be something from my past. Whatever it is, I hope I've changed enough for Brenna to stay with me.

My shoulders deflate in defeat. "I have no clue. But you're right. Connor won't give up. We might as well find him."

Suddenly, there's laughter from behind us.

"Slow your roll, Mystery Inc.," Connor chuckles. "We've got our special guest right here."

I turn around.

It's Connor, Brenna, and Preston. A few other guys are behind them.

Brenna's blue-violet gaze meets mine. She's uncomfortable, and seeing Connor's arm around her shoulders makes my blood boil. Her gaze flicks to Connor's hand, then back to me. For a fraction of a second, I'm wondering why she's not doing anything. It can't be that hard to push off a man and tell him 'no.' But then I remember everything I've researched on the Internet. Actions are easier said than done. Sometimes, when people feel threatened, they freeze.

She probably doesn't want a fight to break out, either. Brenna could easily overpower Connor, but that doesn't mean she wants to take that route. None of us need any trouble while playoffs are happening.

I step forward. "Get your hands off of her."

Connor snorts. "She welcomed the embrace."

"No," Brenna says. Her voice is meek. She's clutching her phone to her chest, looking like she's ready to run. "I didn't."

"You heard her," I growl. The deep tone of my voice scares me a little. I feel like a nuclear bomb about to explode. "Remove your arm, Connor."

KJ gives me a nudge. I take a deep breath. Things'll get out of hand if I react first.

He wrinkles his nose. "Why should I? This is how women are supposed to act. Obedient. This is far better than dealing with a sassy bitch."

Brenna presses her lips into a flat line. Glances at Connor. Then back at me. I shake my head. She has fire in her eyes, and I know she wants to shove Connor's foot up his ass. Fuck, I do, too. But we need to defuse the situation.

Before I can say anything else, Brenna gives Connor a shove. He tries to keep his arm around her, but I reach out and grab her forearms, pulling her flush against me. Her hair is damp, and she smells like coconut shampoo.

Brenna loops her arms around my neck, and I hug her back.

"See? Feminism is a bust. She didn't ask if she could hug you and nor did she give you permission to hug her." Preston tosses back the last of his drink. Then he discards the plastic cup to the floor.

The guys behind him laugh.

"It's different," I argue. "Brenna and I are exclusive to each other. I know when she's comfortable and when she's not. And she knows the same about me. I'm not some fucking creep of a stranger trying to take advantage of her. "

Preston scoffs. "Feminazi."

KJ pushes through and grips the collar of Preston's shirt, shoving him into the wall. "Want to repeat that?" he spits. "That is a desperate attempt to demonize a woman. Use that word again, I dare you."

He's seething by the end, and it makes me wonder if something happened with Ella. I've heard nothing good about Ella's dad from KJ. Maybe that has something to do with it.

Preston makes a smart decision and shuts up.

KJ gives him another shove before returning to us.

"What was that?" I mutter.

KJ runs a hand through his hair. His hand shakes with anger. "I'll tell you later."

"Connor," Hunter says. "The game's over. Give us our phones back. We're leaving."

Connor complies too easily, which is concerning. Something tells me this isn't over.

After slipping my phone into my pocket, I nudge Brenna towards the door. I don't want the ghosts of my mistakes to haunt me.

We're out the door when Connor talks again. "Brenna, sweets, you don't want to see the video?"

She freezes. "What video?"

Connor dangles his phone in the air. "Either Smith plays a good game or you're too fucking naïve."

Brenna's worried gaze meets mine. "What is he talking about?"

"I don't know," I grit out. "He's just trying to sabotage us, Bren. Don't believe a word he says."

Connor snorts. "She doesn't have to believe a word I say, Smith. It's all in what you say."

He taps the phone screen and turns the screen to us. Preston closes the door behind him, blocking out the music.

My blood runs cold.

This video is recent.

And I can't fucking remember it.