Page 83 of Knotted Laces

Rome and King and now Huddy.

“No sex cave.”

“But yes to a girl?”

I sigh, but then I accept the inevitable. Hiding will only make the gossip worse and he’s been around King, Rome, and me enough to haveheardenough. Might as well get it out there and get it over with. “Not a girl,” I say. “A sexy, smart woman?—”

“You’re not talking foryou, right?” Pat sneers as he strolls into the room.

I roll my eyes, but it’s Huddy who steps to my side and glares at Pat.

“What?” Pat asks. “You got a problem, big boy?”

Huddy just narrows his eyes…and picks up an obscenely large dumbbell, starts curling it.

I can’t be the only one who’s imagining that’s Pat’s dismembered head, right?

His ego is big enough that it would be a workout and a half just to heft it.

Rolling my eyes, I ignore Pat and hurry through the last couple of exercises. I’m having a great day. I’m not going to let this asshole ruin it.

But when I hitch my chin in Huddy’s direction, silently telling him I’ll catch up with him later, and then head for the showers, I realize that a different asshole’s going to ruin it instead.

Coach is standing in the hall.

Scowling at me.

“Jackson,” he snaps. “My office.”

I hesitate for a moment. It’s the fucking off-season. I don’t owe this man my time. I don’t have to listen to his bullshit.

I feel that so strongly, I almost turn to go.

But then he snaps out my name again and my feet start moving and I…

Walk into his office.

And spend thirty minutes listening to a soliloquy on how terrible I am.

At everything from hockey to life.

When he finally dismisses me, the words are buzzing around my brain and my emotions are shoved deep, deep down, and I just want to shower and go home.

Want to see Athena and Cookie and forget that while I’ve fixed one part of my life, the other huge piece is in disarray.

“Shut the door!” Coach snaps.

I pull the metal panel closed, start walking, but almost immediately skid to a stop when I see Jean-Michel is propping up the opposite wall. His frown has my stomach knotting, eventhough his tone is completely neutral. “You good?” he asks after a long moment.

I slap a smile on my face, start walking. “I’m great,” I lie as I move past him.

“Cam.”

“Reallygreat,” I tell him. “I’m on my way to meet up with Athena and the kitten you conned her into adopting.”

None of that is strictly a lie.

But it’s not strictly the truth either.

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