Scoring with the Wrong Twin (Ice Chronicles Hockey #2)

18. Savannah

18

Savannah

“What’s going on here, Savannah?” Blake’s sharp voice slices through the tense air like a whip.

I spin to face him, my heart pounding. His arms are crossed over his chest, his stance deceptively calm, but his eyes—those eyes are anything but. They’re locked on me, hard and searching, demanding an answer I’m not ready to give.

“I… uh…” I stammer, my brain scrambling for something—anything—that might diffuse this moment. “We were just… talking. It’s nothing.”

Blake steps closer, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing? You don’t argue like that over nothing.” His gaze flicks to Blaze, who’s leaning against the barn door, arms crossed and jaw tight. “What did you do this time?”

“Don’t,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “This isn’t about—”

“It’s about me,” Blaze interrupts, his voice low and steady. I whip my head toward him, my stomach sinking as I see the determined set of his jaw.

Blaze pushes off the doorframe, stepping forward, his eyes never leaving Blake’s.

“I slept with her.”

The words hit like a bomb, the air between us suddenly thick and suffocating.

Blake’s face hardens, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You… what?”

“Blaze,” I say quickly, stepping forward, my hands up like I’m trying to stop a runaway train. “It wasn’t like that. It was—”

“Stay out of this, Savannah,” Blake snaps, his voice cold.

I flinch, his words cutting deeper than I expected. Helpless, I glance at Blaze, who looks just as furious as Blake now.

“Don’t blame her,” Blaze says, his voice tight. “This is between you and me.”

“Oh, it’s always between you and me, isn’t it?” Blake’s calm facade cracks, his voice rising as he takes a step closer to Blaze. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Just had to take something else that wasn’t yours. Just like Lily.”

My stomach churns. Lily . Who is Lily?

Blaze’s fists clench at his sides, his entire body taut like a spring ready to snap. “Don’t go there, Blake. Not with her.”

“Why not?” Blake snaps. “You went there with Lily, and now you’re doing it again. Is this some sick game to you? What’s next, Blaze? You gonna blame me for this too? Like you blame me for everything else?”

Blaze takes another step forward, his voice dropping dangerously low. “You think this is about you? You think I did this to get back at you? Grow up, bro. Savannah wouldn’t have picked you anyway.”

My breath catches. “Blaze—”

“No,” he says, cutting me off without even looking at me. His eyes stay locked on Blake’s, the heat between them scorching. “You play it safe, always waiting for someone else to make the move. And then when it doesn’t go your way, you blame me. You’ve been doing it for years.”

Blake’s face twists in anger. “You’re so full of it, Blaze. You couldn’t even get into the Blizzards because of your temper. Don’t think for a second I don’t see how bitter you are about it. Is that why you did this? Because you’re still pissed I made it and you didn’t?”

Blaze’s laugh is cold, bitter. “Oh, please. You think I need this to get back at you? Savannah’s not some pawn in your little fantasy rivalry, Blake. She’s smarter than that, even if you’re not.”

Blake snaps. Without warning, he lunges, his fist connecting with Blaze’s jaw in a brutal, resounding crack. Blaze stumbles back but recovers quickly, shoving Blake hard enough to send him into the barn wall.

“Stop it!” I scream, my voice shrill as they grapple.

They don’t. Blake throws another punch, and Blaze dodges, slamming a fist into Blake’s ribs. The sound of flesh hitting flesh makes my stomach turn.

“Enough!” I yell, stepping forward.

But it’s chaos. Blaze swings again, his fist cutting through the air, and Blake ducks, grabbing Blaze’s legs and taking him down in one smooth, powerful motion. The impact shakes the ground—and me with it.

The edge of Blaze’s boot clips my leg, sending me sprawling backward. Pain shoots up my arm as I hit the ground, hard.

“Savannah!”

Both brothers freeze, their heads snapping toward me. Blake scrambles to his feet first, panic on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, kneeling beside me. His hands hover over my arm, hesitant to touch me.

“I’m fine,” I snap, pushing myself up despite the throbbing in my elbow. “Or I would be if you two idiots could stop acting like children for five seconds.”

“Savannah, I—” Blake starts, but I cut him off.

“Don’t,” I say, glaring at him. “Just don’t.”

Blaze is on his feet now, his face dark with anger as he steps toward me. Without a word, he scoops me into his arms, his grip firm but careful.

“I can walk,” I protest, pushing against his chest.

“Not a chance,” he growls, his voice low and commanding.

He turns on his heel, walking away from Blake without looking back. I glance over his shoulder and see Blake standing there, fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight as he watches us go.

“Come on,” Blaze says when we’re alone outside. “Let me walk you back.”

“I can walk myself back, thank you very much.”

With that, I stomp off towards the guest house, my hands shaking, Blaze managing a soft “Sav…”

I don’t look back.

***

The knock on my door is soft, almost timid. Not exactly what I’d expect from Blake, but I know it’s him.

I yank the door open, one hand on my hip. “What?”

Blake stands there, looking like a kicked puppy. “Can I come in?”

I sigh, stepping aside. “Fine. Make it quick. I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”

He walks in, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes darting everywhere except at me. “I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay?”

“Well, my arm’s bruised, I got thrown into the dirt like a sack of potatoes, and I’m stuck in the middle of the WWE brothers’ edition,” I say, folding my arms. “So no, Blake, I’m not exactly okay.”

He winces, but to his credit, he doesn’t snap back. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice softer now. “I let it get out of control. I shouldn’t have…”

“Shouldn’t have what? Charged at Blaze like a bull seeing red?” I roll my eyes, but the tension in my chest eases just a bit. He looks genuinely sorry, and it’s hard to stay mad when he’s this earnest.

“I wasn’t thinking,” he admits. “I was just… angry.”

“No kidding,” I mutter. But the edge in my tone fades. He does look miserable. “Look, Blake. I appreciate you checking on me. I really do. But this isn’t just about the fight. It’s about you and Blaze.”

He frowns, finally meeting my gaze. “What do you mean?”

I sigh. “Whatever’s going on between you two, it’s not new. It’s been simmering for years, hasn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer, which is all the confirmation I need.

“I can’t fix that,” I say firmly. “And honestly? I shouldn’t have to.”

He nods slowly, like my words are sinking in. “I get it. I just… I’m sorry, Savannah.”

For a moment, I feel the tiniest flicker of warmth toward him. But I can’t ignore the chaos that seems to follow him and Blaze everywhere. “Thanks, Blake. But right now, I need space.”

He hesitates, like he wants to argue, but finally nods. “Okay. If you need anything…”

“I’ll let you know,” I say, even though we both know I won’t.

With that, he leaves.

Not five minutes later, there’s another knock. “Blake, I said I need—”

“It’s not Blake.”

Blaze’s voice sends a shiver down my spine, though I’d never admit it. I open the door, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

He’s leaning against the doorframe, his usual cocky smirk absent. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, why not?” I step aside. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks in, his movements slower than usual, almost cautious. He doesn’t look like the arrogant Blaze I’m used to. He looks… tired.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low.

I blink. “For what?”

“For everything,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “The fight… you getting hurt. None of it should’ve happened.”

I snort, crossing my arms. “Wow. Blaze Ice admitting fault. Did hell freeze over?”

“Don’t push it,” he mutters, though there’s the faintest hint of a smile. “I didn’t want you to get caught up in this.”

“Well, here we are,” I snap. “Caught up in it. Care to explain why?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then he looks at me, his expression softer than I expected. “Because I care about you.”

My breath catches, but I don’t let him see it. “Caring about me doesn’t excuse acting like maniacs. You and Blake need to figure your crap out, Blaze. This isn’t about me.”

His eyes darken, and I think I’ve hit a nerve. “You think this is about him?”

“It always is, isn’t it?” I shoot back. “Lily. Hockey. Now me. You two are so busy fighting each other, you don’t even see what it’s doing to everyone around you.”

He flinches, and for a moment, I feel a twinge of guilt. But I shove it down. He needs to hear this.

“You’re right,” he says quietly. “It’s not fair to you.”

I blink. “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeats, looking me straight in the eye. “This isn’t fair to you.”

His honesty catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. But then I shake my head, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter. Because until you and Blake figure out whatever the hell is going on between you, I can’t do this.”

“Savannah—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“No,” I say firmly. “I need space. From both of you.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but then he nods, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Okay.”

I watch him leave, the door clicking shut behind him. And just like that, the tension in the room evaporates—but it leaves something heavier in its place.

The room feels too small, too stifling. I grab my bag, tossing clothes into it without bothering to fold them. The smell of the ranch—the hay, the horses, the faint whiff of cattle—makes my nose wrinkle. This isn’t me. It never was.

I sit by the window, staring out at the fields. It’s beautiful in a rustic, picture-perfect way. The golden glow of sunset spills into the room, too warm, too inviting, as if the ranch itself is asking me to stay. But I can’t.

Blake, Blaze, the whole damn Ice family—it’s too much. I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t even know who I am in the middle of all this chaos. All I know is that I need to get out of here before it swallows me whole.

The sun sinks lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It’s the kind of view that should make me feel calm, grounded. Instead, it makes me feel trapped.

I don’t know where I’m going. But staying here? That’s not an option. Not anymore.