Page 32 of The Head Game

August groaned and threw his phone on the table like it had burned him.

This couldn’t be happening. This was his career on the line.

God, if he had Nico Arents in front of him right now …

August froze. He didn’t have Nico, but he might still have a way to contact him.

August had been annoyed when Nico had scrawled his phone number on a coaster and tossed it at him.

He’d never had any intention of using it but he’d picked it up on his way out of the room and stuffed it in his pocket because he didn’t want to leave any evidence of who had been there.

He’d fully intended to throw the number away but it looked like he was going to have to use it now.

August found the damned peacoat hanging in the hall closet where he’d left it and luckily, the coaster was still tucked safely in the pocket.

He squinted at the writing as he typed the numbers into his phone. God, Nico had the worst penmanship. Not surprising but still irritating. Was that a one or a seven?

The phone rang and rang, then went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s Nico. I’m out living my best life so please hang up and text me like a normal human.”

August rolled his eyes.

When the phone beeped, he said, “Nico, it’s uh …”

August had a moment of panic. Shit, he shouldn’t leave his name. What if the voicemails somehow got leaked? Of course, if they leaked it, wouldn’t they also be able to trace who he was from his phone number? Shit.

Should he have called from some kind of burner phone?

He had no idea where to get those though.

The phone beeped again and the call disconnected.

“Shit!” August swore under his breath.

He dialed the number again and listened impatiently through the greeting.

“Nico, it’s the guy from—the one with the peacoat,” he said. “We need to talk. Call me back.”

But no call came.

Even as August washed dinner dishes, scrubbed his kitchen, and mopped the floors, his phone remained silent.

August had settled in to watch TV for the evening when he got a text from Julius.

You okay over there? I was kidding. I know you’d never hook up with Nico Arents.

August chewed at his lip, trying to figure out what to say. He hated lying to his brother but …

Haha. Cleaning up after dinner, he sent. Seriously, can you imagine? Besides, how stupid would I have to be to get involved with a player?

Right? I’d assume you were kidnapped by aliens or something. Besides, I know you’re not cool enough to get a guy like that.

August scoffed. What did that mean? And why was his brother such an asshole?

I could get a guy like that if I wanted, August fired back.

An NHL player and international playboy/DJ/model? Right. I love you, man, but c’mon …

Well that stung.

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