Page 4

I stare at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to laugh or tell me that he’s joking.

He’s not. He’s deadly serious.

“Let me know what day that is so I can be here to see her reaction.”

Calvin chuckles as he walks toward the couch and lowers himself down.

He’s moving so much better now. I can’t wait to see him back on the ice next season. The Vipers aren’t the same without him.

Sure, they’re still incredible—the best team in the league, both in my humble opinion and with their stats. Even with Killer missing from their D-line. With Rett and Monroe on the first line, Nash, their newest trade, and Alexei Mororov on the second line, they’re a force to be reckoned with. And if our opponents get through them, then they’ve got to go up against Cole Hansley, our goalie, who is currently sitting pretty with the most shutout games in a season.

“So, are you planning on telling us why you’re here?” Sienna asks when she returns with mugs of coffee.

“Uh…” I hesitate.

“Garrett?” she questions, concern flooding her eyes.

“I…I may have quit my job and moved out of my apartment,” I confess in a rush.

“What?” Sienna shrieks as she scoots to the edge of the couch. “But…But I thought you loved New York, your job…”

Guilt swamps me. I’ve been lying to her for months. Hell, practically a year.

Whenever anyone has asked how my life and job was, I lied. Told them it was everything I’d hoped it would be and that I was living my best life.

I wasn’t.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Garrett,” she says, her tone softer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wanted to make it work. I kept telling myself it would get better, but⁠—”

“It didn’t.” I shake my head. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” I confess. “Start over, I guess. Is your guest room free?”

Sienna’s mouth opens and closes, her eyes shifting from mine to Calvin’s and back again.

“Y-yeah, of course. It’s yours for as long as you need it.”

I smile at her, incredibly grateful for her support and love.

“I guess that means you’ll be needing a ticket to tomorrow night’s game?”

2

COOPER

Isit in the dressing room, fully focused on taping my stick for tonight’s game.

It has to be perfect.

Anything else isn’t good enough.

Everyone moves around me, concentrating on their own pregame rituals. Someone is playing some obnoxious hip hop—probably Reeves, one of our second-line wingers. The guy is a douche.

But I’m not here to make friends or bond over music taste. I’m here to do my job. I’m here to play hockey.