Page 15 of The Forever Game

My lil’ mouse is worth so much more than that, but do you think I can convince her?

She’s determined to see this through and work her way up the ranks.

“This opportunity came to me, and I have to take it!” she argued the last time we fought about it.

“What about law school? What about becoming an agent? What about representing female athletes?”

“This job will get me there! I don’thaveto have a law degree to do this, okay?”

“You do if you want to represent pro athletes. You had a plan, Mick. You?—”

“Plans change, okay? Ryan has assured me that he’ll get me to where I want to be. I just have to put in my time and work my way up in the company.”

Ryan. I fucking hate that guy.

I finally met him at the Christmas party last year and instantly didn’t like him. He’s smarmy and false, and I can’t believe Mikayla doesn’t see right through him. She’s so desperate to make it that she’s stopped seeing things clearly, and no matter how much I beg her to take notice, she won’t.

I dump my stick and start unlacing my skates, my mood turning black as those around me celebrate our win. I try to smile along with them, but all I want to do is talk to Mick and celebrate with her. Damn, I wish she was here.

Snatching my phone out of my locker, I head to the back corner and call her. It’s still noisy as hell, but I press my finger to my ear and wait for her to answer.

Which she doesn’t.

“Hey, you’ve reached Mikayla Galloway. I’m not available to take your call right now. Please leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks.”

I miss her old message, her voice bubbly and playful as she told whoever was calling that she was busy, and depending on the quality of your message, she might consider returning you call. Instead, I’m listening to this formal bullshit and missing her with an ache that’s making me vile.

With a growl, I slam my phone back into my locker and stalk to the showers. I take my sweet time and eventually amble out of the locker room for another set of interviews before making my way back to the hotel.

Casey convinces me to join him at the bar, and I reluctantly go for drinks with all the other guys who are flying solo tonight. I down a beer while I listen to them go on about how great we played. I want to join them, but I can’t stop looking at my phone and wondering why Mick hasn’t called me back yet. I didn’t leave a message, but she’ll get a missed call notification.

Come on, baby. Where the fuck are you?

A few pretty women have joined us and are lounging on the single men’s knees… and one married guy.

I see you, Lawson. You cheating asshole.

I watch the girls’ glossy lips smile. The guys hold them close and laugh along with whatever they’re saying. The sounds go muted around me, and I nearly miss Casey’s voice. Actually, I do, until he nudges me in the arm and asks, “Who the fuck is that?”

I glance at his phone, snatching it out of his hand when I notice the guy standing next to Mick.

It’s the agency’s social media account, and my lil’ mouse is standing beside a tall athlete, laughing at whatever he’s saying, while Ryan is on her other side, his arm around her waist and his hand resting on her hip like she’s with him and notmyfucking wife!

I frown at the image, realizing quickly that it was only just posted. Now I know why she wasn’t answering her phone before. She’s busy schmoozing—her word, not mine. I glare at the three of them, torturing myself with every detail of the photo, until I spot something that makes my stomach twist into a sick knot.

“I’m out,” I growl, thrusting Casey’s phone back at him and jerking away from the table.

“You know the guy?” Casey calls after me.

“She works with him,” I shout over my shoulder, practically snarling the words as I stalk to the elevator and head up to my room.

My blood is boiling by the time I swipe my keycard, and I swear to God, I’m?—

The phone in my pocket starts buzzing and I wrench it out, swiping my thumb across the screen and spitting, “Well, I see you’re having a busy night!”

“Yeah, sorry I missed your call, but congratulations on the win!” Mikayla’s voice pitches with excitement, and I can’t enjoy any of it.

Slumping onto the bed, I glare around my hotel suite, hating that she’s not here with me. Hating that she’s at some event with her sleazy colleagues and?—

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