Page 52 of Play Your Part

Too late, I realized I hadn’t said I wasn’t interested. The knowing smile Gemma wore told me it hadn’t escaped her attention.

“Why not? He has two-hundred-plus-pound men slamming him every night. I think he could have handled being pounced on by you.”

“Gemma, I’m getting over a breakup.”

“Exactly. You deserve to have fun. If you would drop this ridiculous grudge against Volk, I think you’d be surprised by how well you'd get along.”

I realized I no longer held a grudge against Alexei. I hadn’t thought about it in days. The Alexei Volkov from the media and Justin’s stories didn’t align with the real live version. He didn’t even match his persona on the ice, at least not completely. Arrogant, sure, but—

My phone pinged again, and her smile grew. “Who’s it from, Kens? Yourboyfriend.” Gemma hung onto the last word much longer than necessary.

Reluctantly, I pulled my phone out of my bag, knowing Gemma wouldn’t let it drop. I pushed the phone toward her so she could see Deandra’s text. “She won’t stop bothering me about helping with this Wolves event. She claims someone quit and she’s desperate.”

“You don’t believe her?”

I shrugged. “Maybe? But it could also be an excuse for me to work with them again.”

“Do you want to work with them again?” Gemma asked, her voice gentle, tentative.

“No,” I said immediately. But then I thought about my list—Pick a career??I’d written the words, then promptly ignored them. Some of my happiest memories came from my time working for the team.

But that wasbefore—when my mother was still here. I was a different person from the woman who could hope and who knew the future was full of possibilities.

I wanted to be that woman again. “Maybe.”

“I’ll pick a dress if you help the team.”

“Fine,” I said, “but only because your wedding dress reign of terror needs to end.”

“Let’s do this then,” Gemma said with a smile. She stalked over to the associates, who plastered on false smiles as she ordered them around.

Before following behind her, I clicked open my phone screen and typed back to Alexei,Good luck tonight. Let me know how the game goes.

23

ALEXEI

Thiswasmyfavoritesilence, the kind following the end-of-game buzzer after we’d kicked the asses of our opponents in their own house.

And the fact it had been against the team that released me from my contract last season made this win sweeter. The Bulldogs organization played a tribute to me during a commercial break, a simple one-minute video showing highlights from when I played for them. I expected the divided fan reaction, receiving both applause and boos, but not anything from management. Iwantednothing from those assholes after how they dumped me.

“You look happy tonight,” Flip Carlson said when I sat down in front of the camera for a virtual postgame press conference.

“Opposed to how I usually sit here, scowling at everyone?”

Genuine laughter filled the room through the speaker. Maybe my displeasure about moving to Palmer City showed all over my face from the moment I stepped into the town. I thought coming back to New York would fuel the resentment and remind me of everything I lost. But tonight, beside my new teammates, gratitude consumed me. They had my back out there. No one needed to say a damn word for me to know their rough play, their extra fire to win, had everything to do with me.

“Two weeks until your next big showdown,” another reporter whose name I couldn’t remember chimed in. “Are you ready to face off with Justin Ward?”

I gritted my teeth. Ward and I would face off twice this season, but I hadn’t realized the first time would be so soon. “I’m focused on our next game. But I’m never not ready.”

“All right, thanks, Volk.”

“Thank you, all,” I said, then flew off the seat as if it were on fire. I had enjoyed media appearances when I first came into the league. People wanted to debrief with me on the game? Talk over how I felt as I scored goals? Great. All these years later, getting through a media appearance felt like a slog, especially when we lost. The last thing any athlete wanted to do after losing a game was talk about all the ways the team fucked up.

Matt came into view as soon as I stepped into the hallway. The media had tapped him for an interview tonight after he’d shut down the Bulldogs’ offense and made an incredible save when our goalie was out of position. “Hey, man, you good?” he asked.

I hated how transparent I was, that people could tell a mention of Justin fucking Ward got under my skin. “I’m great. Thinking about going out tonight.”

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