Page 96 of The Triple Play

Cole

The air in the locker room was thick with the usual post-practice exhaustion, but it hit me a little harder today. Something was off — Coach had been short with all of us today, but shorter with me, Xavi, and Colton. I hadn’t been able to shut off my mind since the second I’d clocked it, and as if the world thought that was the funniest thing in the world, my phone buzzed on the bench beside me as I unlaced my skates,Coachfilling the screen like a taunt. My stomach sank.

“Knew he was acting weird today,” Colton said, his eyes glued to my phone.

“What?” Xav leaned back from his locker, looking over at us. “Who is it?”

“Coach.” I picked up the phone, weighing up the consequences of ignoring it. He was still in the building — he could just walk to me if he needed to, but clearly whatever this was wasn’t meant for others ears.

Xavi paled as he slowly closed his locker. “You don’t think…?”

Colton pulled off his shirt, a bruise already forming on his side where he hit the boards earlier. “Doubt it. Cole’s the golden grandpa.”

I answered it. “What’s up?”

“Office. Xavi and Colton too.” The call ended.

Shit.

“Coach wants us in his office. The three of us.” I kicked off my skate in irritation, my stomach only twisting further.

————

Whitney, the team’s PR manager, stood in her trademark black suit at the side of Coach’s desk, a binder clutched to her chest, as we walked in through the door. Coach leaned back in his chair, staring us down, his blue eyes set in frustration.

“Have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the couch opposite his desk.

Xavi shot me a glance as we sat down. He was as puzzled as I was, but I knew he was thinking the worst, could see it in the flicker of concern in his eyes. Colton was already squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

“Do you three have any idea why you’re here?” Coach asked.

I shook my head.

Whitney sighed and flicked open her binder, pulling out a folder and setting it down on the desk. She flicked it open, and my stomach twisted. “We got an anonymous tip from a fan,” she said. “Apparently, there was an incident involving you three at Smokey’s the other night.”

Xavi sat forward, his eyes wide as he stared at one of the photos — the one of him with Annie pressed against the wall in the middle of the main room at Smokey’s, his mouth on hers like there was no tomorrow and the apocalypse was on us. “Shit, I don’t remember this,” he muttered.

“Knew you wouldn’t,” Colton murmured.

The other two were one each of me and Colton. Mine, at the close end of the hallway that branched into the staff area and the bathrooms. Colton, in the same hallway, down toward the staff rooms. I had her against the wall, my hands on her cheeks, our mouths an inch apart. Colton had apparently nearly bent her almost fully in half backward as he assaulted her mouth.

A heavy silence hung in the air as we looked at the photos. Where thefuckhad those come from?

Coach’s face was stern. “Look, I don’t care what you shits get up to in your personal lives. I’m well aware of flames?—”

“She’s not a flame,” Xavi cut in, and I nearly slapped him in the chest.

Coach flitted his hand toward him. “Whoever she is. Doesn’t matter. She works there, you were all over her, it looks bad. And not just one of you. One of you would be easy — we apologize, say you were drunk. But three of you? On the same night? With thesame woman? Harder to spin.” Coach sighed as he shut the folder. “It’s bad for the team’s image. Bad for morale if this hits the press. Fans are watchingeverywhere. This can’t happen again.”

Xavi’s hands clenched in his lap.

“All right, yeah, we get it,” Colton sighed.

“Good. Because if this becomes a problem, there will be consequences,” Coach continued. “You three are key players, but don’t think for a second that I won’t trade you if you’re jeopardizing the team’s reputation.”

Shit.

I shifted in my seat, anxiety rolling over me like a wave. I wasn’t sure if it was the threat of being traded that hit hardest, or the fact that Coach was completely right. This wasn’t just some minor issue—it was a potential PR nightmare if someone thought we were coercing her.

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