Page 97 of Man Advantage

But… what if he was right about Trev?

I told myself over and over that Trev had stopped reaching out to me because I hadn’t answered him. He wasn’t the type to go where he wasn’t wanted, and when I didn’t respond, he took that to mean I didn’t want to be in contact with him. He didn’t reach out this time because he expected a readily available piece of ass—it was because one of our mutual friends had told him I was in a bind, and Trev had a solution to both of our situations. He hadn’t made a single move or even flirted with me. Hell, I’d been the one to kiss him after I’d cornered him into admitting he was attracted to me.

None of that added up to a man who’d opportunistically hired a nanny/boytoy combo.

So why had Bryan’s words still made it under my skin? He’d just been fishing for dirt and trying to stir things up. I knew that. And yet…

What if some of it—any of it—was true?

What if I was just a convenient sure thing for Trev?

Of course that didn’t sound like the man I’d known alotlonger than Bryan had. Of course it didn’t sound like my best friend. Of course it didn’t sound like the man who’d looked at me like there was nothing he wanted more than to taste me.

But my whole world had been yanked out from under me just a few months ago. My foundation felt shaky.

What if…

What would I do if Bryan was right?

CHAPTER 29

TREV

On the busback to the hotel after our morning skate, I scrolled through the photos I’d gotten from Cam since I’d left for this road trip. The cake decorating class with Zane. Zach playing basketball with some neighborhood friends. Both boys holding up their trophies after their soccer team’s season-end banquet.

I smiled as I looked at each photo for the millionth time. And as I read the messages Cam had sent with them.

Zane already wants to sign up for the advanced class. He loves it!

I think Zach wants to go out for basketball. He’s getting really good!

I think it’s bullshit that I don’t get a trophy for coming with them to all those evil soccer games. (skull emoji)

That last one made me laugh, which soothed the ache deep in my chest. These long road trips had always been a bear, but they’d been especially hard since Bryan and I had adopted the twins. Now that I only had them every other week? Nowthat some of those weeks were swallowed up by these trips? It fucking hurt. I loved my career, but being away from Zach and Zane was a lot harder than I’d anticipated, and that had only gotten worse since the divorce.

Since the divorce, and since Bryan had decided to make everyone’s lives more complicated by getting with someone who was not only my teammate, but also the most insufferable bag of dicks I’d ever shared a locker room with. Who knew it could actually bemoremiserable to be divorced from him than it had been to live with his cheating and all his other bullshit? Or that he’d find the most antagonistic and inescapable man to be his new boyfriend?

And what if things got ugly with Chats and the team decided to separate us?

I closed my eyes and pressed my head back against the seat. I had to do everything I could to get along with that asshole. Don’t take his bait. Don’t engage. Don’t even look at him. If it wasn’t about hockey, I didn’t need to interact with him, and I wouldn’t. Not if our bullshit could get me sent to another team in a city where my kids didn’t live. I was missing enough of their lives without letting my ex’s douchecanoe boyfriend make things worse. If things escalated enough, even my no-move clause wouldn’t keep me here. Not forever.

The bus came to a stop and the doors squeaked open. I looked up and realized we were back at the hotel, so I gathered my phone, coffee, and headphones and followed my teammates off the bus.

I was kind of in the mood to go to my room and wallow in this funk. Look at texts. Look at photos. Hate my life.

But I was saved from that by an announcement that we’d be reviewing film in twenty minutes. Just enough time to go upstairs, change out of my suit and into a pair of sweats, and come down to the conference room.

I sat between Hoes and Bells. Reviewing film wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but it was a welcome distraction today, so I didn’t complain.

We’d be playing Anaheim tomorrow, so our video coach, Gavin, cued up some clips of that team in action. First it was special teams.

“Their power play is first in the League by amile,” Gavin said, “so let’s stay out of the box tomorrow, all right?”

“Anyone gets a major or a double minor against this team,” Coach warned from the front row, “you’re bag skating for a week.”

That prompted grunts and nods. He might’ve been kidding, but maybe not. Any penalty was dangerous against this team, but Anaheim was deadly. Against New York last week, they’d scored twice on a double minor, putting them one ahead in a game they ultimately won 5-4. A five-minute major had proven disastrous for Seattle—during that extended man advantage against the second worst penalty kill in the League, they’d scoredfour timesin what ended up being a 5-1 victory.

So… yeah. Staying out of the box tomorrow would be a really, really good idea.

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