Page 95 of Power Play

I consider his words for a second, then say, “Is your coach here?”

Michael nods.

“Let’s go. I’ll talk to him. Maybe we can figure out a good day for me to come to practice.”

“Really?” He seems so hopeful with his eyes bulging out of his sockets and a radiant smile on his face. “You’re the best,” Michael murmurs with delight. Then he turns around, ready to go back into the arena.

“Where are you going?” I catch his sports bag and pull him back to my car. “Let’s put your stuff in the back seat first. I’m sure you won’t need it.”

His cheeks redden, and he nods. “Thanks, Clay.”

Shaking my head, I open the back door and put Michael’s sports bag and hockey stick inside. Once I lock my car, I pocket my hands and stroll with Michael into the arena. At this point, I’ll do absolutely anything to avoid being at home.

This loneliness is fucking eating me alive.

I want a way out.

I parkmy car in the driveway of my house and jump out of it. It’s almost 9:00 p.m., and my brain is wired. I’m tired, but I don’t think I can go to bed anytime soon. I’ve been in a weird headspace for three weeks already, and I’m not sure what I can do to make it better.

Only games are bringing me joy. Even the ones we lose. I simply enjoy being needed.

My phone dings with new texts. I pull it out of my pocket and read them. A smile grows on my face as I do.

Colton:

Roman is good, nothing broken. Dropped him home 10 minutes ago. I think he and Nev will be fine.

Colton:

Thank you for picking up Michael. He’s still stoked that you’ll come play with them next week. I think his whole team already knows

Me:

Great news about Roman. And he loves his wife, of course they’ll be okay

The guy was miserable when he came to crash at my place last night. Something happened between them, but I think he was ready to make amends. He was heading straight home today when he got into the accident.

Colton:

Since fucking when do you know him better than me?

Me:

I’m observant. Don’t take it personally

Colton:

Fuck off

Me:

You say that so often, I’m starting to think you actually love me

Colton:

I do, but still…fuck off

Colton Thompson and his love language, what can be better? I laugh to myself, ready to hide my phone back in my pocket, when I notice another new text, one I didn’t notice earlier. It’s from Layla.

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