Page 27 of Playboy

Beside me, Aiden kicks his skates off and offers a similar curse.

“I know you’re all tired,” Gavin starts.

He strides into the locker room, ready to give usthechat. The one where he tells us he’s disappointed and he knows we’re all disappointed. That we played like shit and we can do better. Theit’s not over until it’s overmonologue he has to give because he’s our coach and he owns the team and he can’t control any of it because he didn’t play like shit today. He’s here to tell us we can do this, that he believes in us. That we should trust him when he says it.

But with a look around the locker room, it’s more than obvious that as a whole, we agree this season is a loss. We’re down 3-1 in this round. If we don’t pull off a win on the road this week, we’re done.

It’s a sad fucking state of affairs, yet I can’t be bothered to listen to him. Already, I’m focused on finding another way to release this energy. Something I’m actually good at.

Which apparently isn’t sex. Fuck, I can’t even look at my dick without blowing a gasket. The piece-of-shit appendage made me fuckingcrythe last time I used it.

Yes, my dick is in dick jail. He hasn’t been given even the tiniest bit of love. I knew I shouldn’t have let him out to play that night. Fuck, I should have taken things slower. I’d told myself I would. And if I had, maybe I could have had a chance at more than one night with Hannah. By now, maybe he’d be sleeping snuggly inside her warm cunt night after night. And I wouldn’t be so fucking irate.

I’d never cried during sex before. But that night, the feelings got the best of me. And no, I don’t mean emotionally. I mean the fact that my dick was so fucking sensitive from the piercings that it was this pleasurable pain that I couldn’t wrap my fucking head around. It felt incredible and hurt at the same time. And okay, maybe I got slightly emotional over knowing I was finally getting a chancewith her. Because she’s Hannah. My fucking dream girl. And I fucking blew it.

I pound my fist against the locker again, this time hard enough to send pain radiating up my arm.

“Enough.” War puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “We’re all going out.”

“You’re going out?” Snow says from my other side, brows pinched.

He’s probably as surprised as I am that War would even suggest it. Since he and Ava got married, he’s been a complete homebody. I’d do the same too if I had a wife and kids at home. They’ve probably got much better attitudes than the rest of his team does lately.

“We’re all going out.” War scans the room, locking eyes with each guy, before turning back to me, his expression hardening. “I know we shouldn’t be celebrating, but we need this. We need to remember how to have fun again.” He lifts his chin to Noah. “We need the chemistry back.”

I’d like to say that his comment makes me feel a modicum better. That maybe he realizes that since Gavin fucked with the lineup, we’ve been doomed. But I know I wouldn’t have been playing any better than Noah has in his position with War and Aiden. None of us are playing like we should, and it’s time I get my head out of my ass and take some responsibility for that.

“Fine. But you’re buying.” I toss the last of my gear into the locker and stalk toward the shower.

Dad: Sorry about the game tonight. You’ll get the win in Detroit, though, and bring it back home to finish it out.

With a shake of my head,I pick up my whiskey. If I were a betting man, I’d put money on our season ending in Detroit. And there’s nothing like losing on another team’s ice and having to deal with their happy fans and then all the travel home.

Though losing at home isn’t a whole lot better. Letting down our fans is always tough. So is facing the staff who work all year to keep the arena running, win or lose. Yeah. Losing sucks no matter where it happens.

Me: Thanks. We’re all at Ground Zero. War says we need to work on our team chemistry.

Ground Zero is a private bar tucked away beneath Langfield corporate offices. It can only be accessed by the underground tunnels that link the arena to the baseball stadium. It’s reserved for players and staff and their guests only. A haven where we can relax without being hounded by the media. A spot free of bunnies and fans trying to get a piece of us.

Not that I’m feeling very relaxed now.

Dad: Good. Relax. Enjoy. And then get your head back into it. Only a few weeks left of the season. Make them count. But no matter what, I’m proud of you.

I blow out a rough breath to ease the tightness in my chest. I haven’t done a whole hell of a lot to boast about, but my dad has always been proud. So many of the guys on my team have shit relationships with their families, but that’s never been my issue.

My dad is one of my best friends and my biggest supporter. I truly wouldn’t be where I am today without him. He might stick his nose in my business a little too often, and he and my mom may not have a whole lot of love for one another, but he’s always made time for me. He dedicated far more time and showed far more interest in my life than I can even fathom giving to another human. When I was a kid, he was the one driving me to hockey practices. In college, he’d attend as many games as he could. Now that I’m playing for the Bolts, that hasn’t changed, and more often than not, he’s right here with me after a game. Our whole lives, he’s treated us as if we’re his entire world.

Until he married Lake, he really never did anything for himself.

Now, seeing him with my youngest brother, Nash, his child with Lake, it’s clear he was made for this role.

Me: thanks. I’ll call you when I head to the airport tomorrow.

I slip my phone into my pocket and focus on the guys around me. Despite War’s intentions, there’s no laughter. Hell, the group is barely conversing at all.

Determined to get my shit together and help War turn the night around, I straighten and take a quick drink of my whiskey. As I’m lowering my glass, Hannah walks into the bar flanked by Lennox and Sara. Mills probably won’t be here. Ava either, since they have kids. But fuck, I wish my sister had shown up with them. At least then I’d have an excuse to go over and say hello.

I haven’t seen Hannah since that night, and I’ve yet to figure out how to get back to the banter we used to fall into without making things awkward.

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