Atlas must have taken a puck to his head. That was the only explanation for his ridiculous behavior.

And if he had not, I might end up throwing one at him tonight. How I would get hold of a puck was still in the works but if I saw that infuriating smirk on his face one more time I was going to lose it for sure.

After the awkward goodbye at my place, I concluded that whatever was going on between us had ended. It weirdly hurt but I made peace with it. It wasn't the first time someone had left me and it probably won't be the last. But I knew I was strong and I could get over it. I'd made it this far. I could do it again.

What I didn't understand was what Atlas wanted from me now. From the moment we'd come face to face in the morning to get on the flight for the away game to right now when we were getting ready for casual interviews before their game, he'd made sure to be all up in my space.

The nickname dropping in every other sentence, those mischievous smirks, playful grins, and soft touches had my mind spinning. He'd also stepped in to help me every single time without a word, never letting anyone else do it. But he also hadn't said a word to me that wasn't a jab or an innuendo.

What the fuck did he want from me?

I watched him from the side as he talked with Noor and Mark, my mind trying to come up with possible answers to my question. None of which made sense because why would Atlas Griffin want to redo our pact when any girl on and off campus would gladly agree to be his hookup buddy?

"Don't stare at me Rosy or I might think you're in love with me," his comment snapped me out of my thoughts and I blinked a few times, looking around. We were the only ones in this part of the lobby as Mark and Noor had moved to the other players down the hall.

"I can sign your jersey if that's what you want," he said, making me whirl back to face him. That smug smile was plastered on his lips again and the urge to go looking for the puck was stronger than ever.

And as if the Universe wanted to partake in Atlas's game, I was given the jersey with his name and number on it to wear. Again. They couldn't get the media team our own jerseys so we were left with fan merch to show that we were with the hockey team.

I was still bitter about someone else picking up Kris's jersey, not that anyone else other than me was paying attention to the numbers or the last names they were going to wear, but still. I wanted to avoid the number 1 with every cell in my body knowing perfectly well that Atlas would get a kick out of seeing me wear his jersey.

Swallowing the snarky comment hanging from the tip of my tongue, I decided to cut to the chase. I was tired of his games. "What are you playing at Griffin? Whatever it is, please stop. You're attracting unnecessary attention toward us. I just want to get this over peacefully."

His smirk faltered and a serious look dawned on his face. "Evelyn—"

"No, Atlas... Please." My voice came out more desperate than I would like to admit but I meant what I said. Our week apart had given me the gist of what I would be left with after Atlas graduated and moved on. And I didn't like it.

I didn't like the feeling of emptiness that clawed at me from the inside or the sense of being abandoned that haunted me at all times of the day. I needed to cut ties before I got attached anymore than I already had.

Undeterred, Atlas tried to hold my hand but I stepped back.

"I-I need to go see how the others are doing," I said and turned around to walk away. In my haste to create some distance between us, I bumped into someone and almost fell flat on my butt. Almost. Because my rear never met the carpeted floor as a large arm wrapped around my waist, stabilizing me.

Atlas towered over me, holding me protectively against him. "You good?"

I nodded and looked up at him. "Thank you."

"Griffin!" the guy I had bumped into exclaimed and that's when I noticed his presence. He was as tall as Atlas but a bit on the bulkier side than him. His dark hair was cut so close to his head that he might as well just shave it off completely.

However, it was the wide, toothy grin on his face that set alarm bells ringing in my head for some reason. His gaze briefly flickered to me before going to Atlas and I instinctively backed myself more into Atlas's side. "Got yourself a new chick? Aren't you full of shit? Leave some for others too, man," he said with a laugh.

His dark eyes flicked back to me, doing a slow appraisal that made my skin crawl. "Then again, you don't keep them for long. Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart. He's an asshole."

"Get out of here, Davidson!" Atlas snapped, his hold on me tightening.

Davidson grinned, way too happy for someone who'd been just told to leave. He looked us up and down once again before letting out a small chuckle. "Oh, this is going to be good. See you on the ice, Griffin."

I watched him until he disappeared down the corridor, feeling wary. The fact that even Atlas was tensed beside me didn't help ease my worries.

"Was that Davidson?" Kris asked as he came up to us from the other side.

"Yeah," Atlas replied, his tone grim.

Kris scowled and I was taken aback for a second. I had never seen him annoyed let alone angry. For a gigantic defenseman, he was a true softie in all senses of the word. Seeing him triggered, confirmed my suspicions about the Davidson guy. He was bad news.

"I can't believe they are letting him play again!" Kris all but screamed. "What happened to the so-called rules? Are they complete bullshit now because clearly, no one gives a rat's ass about them."

I involuntarily winced at his loud voice and Kris's face softened, his green eyes filling with guilt. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," I replied, shaking my head a little. "What's with the guy that has gotten both of you so worked up anyway?"

Atlas heaved a sigh. "He's the Warrior's right-wing and plays the most dirty game in the league. Instigating, brutal hits, starting a fight for absolutely no damn reason. You name it, he has done it all."

"Last year he hit a guy so hard that the guy lost consciousness and was hospitalized for 3 weeks. They took him out of the league and everyone thought some serious action would be taken against him but clearly nothing was done," Kris huffed, his jaw ticking with rage. "The guy he had hit broke his wrist badly too and cannot play anymore."

My stomach twisted viciously and I shifted from one foot to another. "You are not playing with them, right?"

Atlas pursed his lips and stared at Kris who had an equally concerned look on his face. My eyes darted between the two who refused to speak. The knots in my stomach intensified further at the ominous silence. "Right?" I pressed.

"Tomorrow. The second game's with the Warriors," Atlas replied.

"I'll go inform Coach. We need to come up with a new strategy now that Davidson's in the picture. You coming?" he asked, turning on his heels.

Atlas gave him a nod before turning to me. "Stay as far away from him as possible. He's twisted in the worst ways," he said and walked away with Kris, leaving me alone in the lobby.

Well, I wasn't planning to go looking for him. Wasn't before and definitely not now after everything I knew. But I would be extra cautious.

The next two hours flew by in doing preparations. Wellsfield Eagles' game was after the Warriors so we entered the rink a little closer to the end to set up our cameras and take positions. While I took my place, my gaze went toward the scoreboard which showed 3-0, the 3 under the Warriors' sign. With only a few minutes left on the clock only a miracle could save the other team from a complete shutout.

My gaze then wandered over the players zooming past at a speed I still doubted was humanly possible until they collided with a pair of dark eyes that were already on me.

Davidson was sitting in the penalty box, his head turned in my direction. As soon as our eyes met, his mouth turned into the same toothy grin and he winked at me. I quickly averted my gaze and sat down in my seat, trying my best to ignore him but his stare was drilling holes into my head.

The buzzer went off, announcing the Warriors' victory. Davidson's gaze stayed glued to me until his teammate came to pull him into their celebration. If he was trying to intimidate me, it was working. But why he wanted to do that was beyond me.

The Eagles' game went by quickly as well, ending with their win. I was in the middle of recording their victory antics, especially Dylan because he was having the time of his life with all cameras pointed in his direction. A smile formed on my lips as I watched Atlas practically haul Dylan towards the locker room like a parent trying to get their overexcited toddler to leave the park. "He sure loves the attention," Veena commented from beside me and I chuckled.

"He does," I said, turning away from the boys. "Let's catch up with the rest and—"

My phone started buzzing in my hand with my dad's Id flashing on the screen. As soon as I saw it, the smile was wiped clean and my entire body froze. Why was he calling me now? I had already sent him the money for this month.

"Eve? Are you okay?" Veena asked, her voice laced with concern.

I diverted my attention to her and forced a smile which I was sure wasn't convincing enough because her brows furrowed further. "I'm fine. I just...I just need to take this call. Be right back."

Without waiting to hear her response, I dashed out of the rink and found myself in a quiet corner of the lobby. "What is it?" I asked as soon as I picked up the call.

"Hey, sweetie! How are you doing?"

Hearing his voice, my body relaxed despite my will. Maybe it was because no matter how bad he was or how much trouble he caused me, he was still my dad and I could never stay mad at him. And that was another reason I refused to pick up his calls. Dealing with him on texts was easier. I could stay rational and focused. It was also easier to keep the little girl in me in check who immediately jumped in joy after getting the tiniest bit of attention from her father.

But none of it was real. He didn't care about me. He wanted money and that was the only motive behind his sweet words and fatherly concern. Squaring my shoulders, I exhaled a breath, suppressing the tiniest flutter in my heart when he called me by my childhood pet name. "I'm busy. What is it?"

There was a long pause on the other end. He probably realized I wasn't going to entertain his attempt at meaningless small talk. We both knew he didn't care about how I was holding up so why not get to the point?

"Uh... I was wondering if you could lend me some money. Not much. Just a few hundred. I need—"

"I don't have more money. I already sent you whatever I had," I said, immediately rejecting his demand. And it was true. I had already sent him whatever I could spare. I needed the rest for my own groceries and other expenses.

"C'mon sweetie, don't be like that. I'm really in a pinch right now. I'm sure you do have some spare cash. Don't you always save money? You can just lend me that and I will return it to you later," he said.

My fists curled as rage took over completely. How shameless could this man be? The savings that he was referring to were for when I would have to move away after graduation. I didn't want to live in a tiny, cramped apartment after I started my job. I wanted to feel comfortable bringing someone over and not be embarrassed about my poor living situation. I wanted everything to be perfect when I started my career and not have my past haunt me like it always did.

"I cannot give you money," I said, my voice coming out calm despite the anger bubbling under it.

"Sweetheart, please. Just this once. I won't ask for money again this month. Just—"

"No!" I snapped. "You always say that and always contact me for money again. Please..." my voice cracked and I had to gulp down the lump in my throat to not burst into tears. "I don't have money to give you. Please stop bothering me about it. Just stop."

Before he could say anything else, I hung up. A lone tear cascaded down my cheek and I swiped at it angrily. I didn't know why I was crying. It wasn't like this was something new. It happened at least every two months and yet, it didn't hurt any less. I was so tired of everything. Tired of caring, tired of trying, tired of never being enough. No matter what I did, I just couldn't get out of this hellhole.

My phone vibrated again and I was fully intending to pick up and yell when I saw it was Tyler calling me. I took a few deep breaths to compose myself and picked up the call. "Hey!"

"Where are you? We all are heading back to the hotel," he said.

"I was just attending a call. I'll meet you at the gate," I replied.

"Okay. Be quick," he said and hung up.

Taking a deep breath again, I wiped my face with the tissues I always carried with me and checked myself with the front camera of my phone. Thankfully, my eyes hadn't turned red and I could easily blame the cold for the pinkish hue on my nose and cheeks. I plastered a smile on my face and with one final look in the camera, I started towards the exit.

I would rather die than let Atlas else see just how pathetic my life was.