Page 101 of Playoff

“Is it… a girl?” he asks quietly.

I chuckle but there’s no humor in it. “It was. But now it’s not.”

He winces. “What happened?”

“I already told you—don’t wanna talk about it. Leave it alone.”

“Okay.” He shrugs and turns to Connor, asking him about the new car he’s planning to buy with his first-round bonus.

The first-round bonus wasn’t huge, but enough to get me through the summer. Or, if I can get my training job back, it could pay for a semester or two of school when I decide to go back.

If we win tonight, the second-round bonus will be more substantial.

Enough to set me up for next year, no matter where I wind up.

Unfortunately, I’m still reeling from the break-up and it’s hard to think about hockey. It’s hard to think about anything except Rowan.

I understand her anger that I kept a secret from her, but what I don’t understand is her complete unwillingness to talk things out. Yes, our situation is complicated as fuck. That stupid no-fraternization clause is a real thorn in my side. But we had options. We were going to find a way to make it work.

And she just let me walk away like I meant nothing to her.

That’s the part that hurts the most.

I’ve bared my soul, bent over backwards to show her who I am, that I’m not the same as I was ten years ago. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Apparently, it’s never been enough. I’m not blameless, but this isn’t all on me. Not this time.

By the time the puck drops, I’ve managed to compartmentalize the breakup so I can focus on the game, but the fire—the proverbial itch—isn’t there.

And I’m struggling.

There’s a missed pass in the first period that pisses me off, and I almost drop the gloves with the same guy I went at it with in game six. I force myself to walk away, but frustration is brewing. Building. Like a volcano getting ready to erupt.

Normally, I can put everything aside on the ice.

This is undoubtedly the most high-stakes game of my career.

And yet, I can’t seem to muster up any fucks.

I just want to hit people.

So I do.

I check harder and more frequently than I ever have in any game I’ve played in my life.

But it isn’t enough to quell the darkness threatening to overtake me.

I’m angry. Hurt. Disappointed.

So many emotions I’m not familiar with.

Well, I’m probably a little too familiar with disappointment, but I’m generally an even-tempered guy so I don’t get mad that often. I certainly don’t let things hurt me if I can help it. Except my dad.

And fucking Rowan.

She can hurt me like no one else.

Having her standing just a few feet away makes it so much worse.

This is probably why they have no fraternization clauses.

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