Page 98 of Unrivaled

But Max didn’t answer, and now Grady wondered if they were going to have a repeat of his own dumb posttrade radio silence. If so, he deserved it, but it still sucked.

So he was surly through practice—enough that Dawg made sad puppy eyes at him when Grady snapped and then felt like a monster. After that, he kept a better lid on it, but he could tell Mitch and Farouk were giving him more space than usual.

Grady made a conscious effort to dial back “hate-the-world mode,” as Jess called it, and get his head on straight. At this point in the season, every game counted—the more points they got, the better chance they had at an easier matchup in the first round of the playoffs. Grady could hardly remember the last time making the playoffs felt like a given rather than a struggle, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Especially not since their game tonight was against San Jose—a divisional matchup. Winning tonight could mean the difference of a home-team advantage in the first round.

And all Grady could think about was Max in Miami, away from his friends and away from Grady, and the fact that the Condors had already played Miami twice this season. If Grady got to see Max before the playoffs were over, it would be because they were playing against each other in the Stanley Cup Final.

Grady gritted his teeth and did his best to focus, but he struggled. Finally he knocked a goal past Mitch in practice—right out of the air off a flukey bounce—and Farouk patted his shoulder. “Attaboy. You show that puck.”

Grady checked him halfheartedly, but his shoulders unknotted and he relaxed. Settling into the groove got easier after that.

After practice, the team filed into the locker room. Jeremy, their PR guy, gave Grady a heads-up in the hallway. “You’re on tap for media today.”

Grady wanted to protest. Everybody else was in a good mood. Grady wanted to brood in peace.

But it was a team sport, and he had promised himself he’d make more of an effort to be a team player, so he nodded. “Got it.”

It wasn’t like media interviews were hard. Grady could’ve answered questions about their power play strategy in his sleep. The most difficult part was keeping his attention on the questions while the rest of the team dressed and chatted around him.

Grady talked a little about Farouk’s landmark year—he was on track to hit forty goals by the end of the regular season—and how much the team supported him.

Then Sonia Goldstein, who covered the team for theAthletic, got her turn. “Grady, when you played for the Firebirds, you had a notable rivalry with Max Lockhart.”

Grady schooled his features into neutrality as he waited for her to finish.

“How do you feel about rekindling that rivalry now that Max has been traded to the Piranhas?”

Blinking, Grady tried to untangle the question while his heart tried to escape his rib cage. “I thought he was going to Miami.”

Sonia shook her head. “You must’ve missed the news. They flipped him to Anaheim an hour ago.”

Grady could not have controlled his expression if his life depended on it. Without meaning to, he raised his hand to his face and rubbed his cheek. Oh—that was the edge of a smile under his fingers.

Oops.

“They did, huh?” He shook his head. “Guess he missed my pretty face.”

Sonia laughed. “So that’s a yes?”

Yeswas such a small word. “Max is always fun to play against.” Even if that wasn’t what Grady looked forward to most. “But maybe I’ll try a little harder to stay out of the box this time around.”

Somehow he got through the rest of the questions, and then Jeremy ushered the media out again.

Grady could’ve used a few minutes to pull himself together, but he didn’t even get ten seconds. As soon as the door closed, Mitch was on him.

“Grady. Bro. Buddy. Friend.” He put his hand on Grady’s knee. “What is that on your face?”

Fuck.Grady put his head in his hands. He was still smiling. “Shut up.”

“Okay, wait, wait, wait.” Farouk sat down on his other side. “Am I jumping to the right conclusions here? Your special friend you sent a shirtless selfie to the other day is yourarchrival?”

“Oh my God.” Grady lifted his head. “I’m not a supervillain.”

“This is amazing,” Farouk said. “This is better than television. I don’t believe this.”

At least they weren’t upset. On the other hand, this might be worse. “When did this start?Howdid this start?” Mitch wanted to know. “How have you kept this quiet for so long when your face doesthatwhen you talk about him?”

“You have to tell us,” Farouk said. “I will never be able to have my pregame nap with all these questions. Do it for theteam, Grades.”

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