I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Atlas’s POV

Yo, Ramirez.”

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Ford’s voice cut through the locker room, loud and obnoxious as always. He leaned against the locker beside Howard’s, arms crossed, grinning like he’d just found the juiciest piece of gossip on campus.

I barely registered him. I was still re-tying my sneakers, but my thoughts weren’t on laces. They were on her.

Emery.

She’d walked into the ice rink like she belonged there, her blonde hair still damp from swim practice and pulled into a low ponytail, skin glowing with that post-workout flush. And then, God help me, she smiled at me. Not just a casual glance. A real smile. Big, bright, and just for me.

My chest had lifted for half a second. But then she turned.

To him.

Howard.

She handed him a bag, and he grinned back like they’d known each other for years. They weren’t acting like strangers. Not even close. And the way the guys hooted and hollered, teasing and laughing like they’d just walked in on a rom-com moment?

My blood fucking boiled.

Since when did she show up for him?

She’s never come to watch me practice.

Never brought me a gift bag.

Never lit up like that when she saw me.

I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on anything but the heat crawling under my skin.

Ford, of course, had no intention of letting it go.

“So, you and Emmy Bear,” he said, elbowing Howard with a smirk. “What’s the deal? You guys hooking up, or is this just a slow-burn thing?”

I didn’t look up, but I heard it.

Howard chuckled, cool and calm as always. “It’s funny you think I’d actually tell you.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Ford whined. “Don’t be that guy.”

14:52 Tue, Dec 30

Chapter 38

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Justine chimed in from the bench, half-laughing, “Better lock that down before someone else swoops in.”

Ford turned toward me, grinning like the devil. “Right, Cap? You’d back our boy up?”

Every head in the room turned to me.

I kept my expression neutral as I tied my shoe tighter than necessary. “Sure,” I muttered, voice clipped. “Whatever you say.”

I didn’t miss the look Ford shot Howard-some bro-y you lucky bastard nonsense that made me want to break my stick over the nearest bench.

Howard didn’t say anything else. Just tugged his hoodie on and slammed his locker shut like nothing was wrong. Like, he didn’t just steal the attention of the one girl I couldn’t get out of my head.

Then-

“Lawson. Howard. My office.”

Coach’s voice echoed through the hallway.

Saved by the damn whistle.

The second we stepped into Coach Ramirez’s office, the tension hit like a slap to the face. The air felt heavier in here, like it always did when someone was about to get called out.

Coach didn’t waste time. “I need to talk about our last game,” he began, arms crossed, tone sharp and clipped. “Now we won, and that’s good. But winning doesn’t mean we get comfortable.”

I glanced at Howard out the corner of my eye. He was standing straight, jaw relaxed, hands loose at his side like nothing could faze him. Classic Howard.

But then Coach kept going. “You played alright, Howard. But you were late passing the puck in the third. Too slow. If Lawson hadn’t stepped in, we could’ve lost it right there.”

Howard stiffened. Not enough for most people to notice, but I caught it. The slight tick in his jaw. The way his fingers curled into his palm before releasing again.

Still, he nodded coolly. “I apologize, Coach.”

Coach shook his head. “It’s not just about apologizing. It’s about putting in the work. If you’re not sharp, you’re a liability. We don’t have time for liabilities, not with scouts showing up next week.”

That one landed. Hard.

Howard kept his eyes down, jaw clenched tight, lips pressed together like he was biting back whatever pride was left. And for a second, I actually felt bad.

He worked hard. No question about that. The guy never missed drills, never slacked off during conditioning. He wasn’t perfect, but he damn well gave a shit.

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Chapter 38

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So I spoke up. “Coach, if I can say something?”

Ramirez raised a brow but didn’t stop me, so I went on. “Howard’s one of the most consistent guys on the ice. Whatever happened last game, it wasn’t him slacking. It was a bad moment, that’s all. He’s been locked in at practice. It won’t happen again.”

Coach stared at me for a second, unreadable. Then he leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

“That better be the case. I want you practicing with him, drills, shooting, puck movement, the whole damn thing. I need him sharp before our next game. We don’t have room for hesitation. Anyone who plays like they don’t care about being drafted doesn’t belong on this team.”

There was a pause. Then Howard lifted his chin and smiled, tight, forced, but it was there.

“Don’t worry, Coach. I won’t disappoint you.”

Coach gave a small nod. “Good. You’re dismissed.”

We stepped out of the office, the door clicking shut behind us. The hallway was quiet, just the distant squeak of skates echoing from the rink.

I turned to him. “Hey, man. You okay?”

But before I could finish, he cut in, voice low but clipped.

“I’ll catch you later for practice, Captain.”

His eyes never met mine.

And then he walked off, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders squared like he was fine.

But I knew better. That smile he gave Coach? It was just armor. And damn, I knew what it felt like to wear that

kind of smile.

****

Just like Coach ordered, we were back on the rink after classes. The lights were dimmer now, casting long shadows over the ice, and the place was quiet, just the occasional sound of blades scraping and pucks hitting boards. Everyone else had gone. It was just me and Howard, both suited up.

I told him we’d start with something basic, just seeing how fast he could shoot a puck into the net. Keep it simple, build confidence.

Howard nodded, jaw set, eyes narrowed. Focused.

Then, just before he skated off toward the puck, he glanced back at me. “I’m sorry, Cap… you should be in your dorm relaxing, and here you are-babysitting me.”

I smirked, gripping my stick and resting it against my shoulder. “I’m your captain. It’s my job to make sure no one’s left behind. You’ve got my time, man. Always.”

14:52 Tue, Dec 30

Chapter 38

He cracked a small smile. “Yeah.”

:

“Good. Now let’s kill this practice and shock Coach when you crush the next game.”

His grin widened. “Yeah!”

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We went hard. Drills. Speed passes. Shooting accuracy. My quads burned, and I knew he was dying out too, but he never stopped pushing. Not once. By the end of it, we were drenched in sweat and heaving for air.

I skated over and tossed him a water bottle. He caught it mid-air, nodding his thanks.

He took a long drink and then leaned back on the boards, panting. The smile had faded from his face.

“Still shitty slow,” he muttered.

I rested my forearm on the edge of the boards and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, hair sticking to his forehead under his helmet, and he looked like he was two seconds from ripping himself apart.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said, voice calm. “It’s the first day. You’re gonna get better, trust me.”

He was quiet for a beat. Then, without looking at me, he asked under his breath, “Why is it so hard to freaking impress him?”

I blinked.

Him?

That is…his Father…Coach Ramirez.

Before I could even ask, he added, “He never yells at you.”

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