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I was profusely sweating.

Coach Silva and Merton decided that the day before we left for our away games, we would have an off-ice practice. Which basically meant it was a lot of working out, running around, and circuit training. To say that it was exhausting would be an understatement. My legs were burning and I couldn't wait to lie down in my bed and do nothing for hours.

"Finish this workout and you can go!" Coach Silva announced and I sighed in relief.

Off-ice practices were definitely not my thing.

I pushed through the last workout, my breath roughly ripping through my chest as I did so. As soon as Coach Silva blew his whistle for us to stop, I lied down on the floor along with the rest of the team and rested.

"Don't forget we are meeting here at nine AM tomorrow so we can use the ice for practice as soon as we get there," Coach Merton reminded us. "Don't be late."

The coaches left the gym while the rest of us were still catching our breath on the floor. The only one standing upright was Fox, though that didn't surprise me. He casually sipped on his water with one hand on his hip and looked down at the team in irritated disbelief.

"If you guys can't handle this, then it's going to be a long season," Fox let out with a scoff, walking leisurely toward the exit of the gym.

I let out a pained groan and heaved myself off of the floor, following Fox toward the locker room. When I entered the room, he was standing by his locker and pulling his sweaty shirt over his head. I redirected my gaze so I wouldn't get caught up in staring at his impressive torso. I was afraid if I looked too long I would reminisce about our time together over the summer and I wanted to keep those thoughts out of my head.

"Did you not have to do circuit training in prep school hockey?" Fox asked in an almost mocking tone that was laced with anger and annoyance.

"I did," I told him, stepping by him to get to my locker. "Hated it then too."

Fox scoffed and shook his head. "You were sloppy."

I rolled my eyes and let out a little laugh. "You were watching me? How sweet."

Fox slammed his locker door and turned his body toward me. I made sure to keep my eyes off of his glistening chest and keep them directed at his hate filled expression.

"Don't say shit like that to me," he seethed.

"Calm down, I was just kidding," I told him, keeping my voice light.

"Well don't," he hissed. "Just because you get to be out and proud doesn't mean everyone else does."

His voice was reminiscent of a snake, low, hissing, and venomous. It made my hair stand on my arms and I struggled to figure out why he was even bringing this up.

"What the hell? What are you talking about?" I dared to ask, my voice raising in annoyance.

"You saying shit like that to me, isn't cool," Fox explained in a low voice. "If you do that in front of the others, I'll pound you."

"God, Fox. I didn't mean anything by it. Can you just chill out?"

He just shook his head with a scowl directed at me.

"And you think I get to be 'out and proud?'" I continued, pointing my finger toward my chest.

"You do," Fox answered, raising an eyebrow at me.

I let out a humorless laugh. "You say that as if I didn't literally get kicked out of my house."

"You still get to be who you are," Fox replied, his voice strained.

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