Page 90 of The Fake Out

Streicher makes a noise that sounds like a snort. “Me neither. I think he’s got a plan, though.”

My mind wanders back to tonight during the game, after my assist. Ward met my eyes and dipped his chin in approval at me.

“How’s stuff going with Hazel?” Streicher asks.

“Good.” Really good. I think about us racing to the sign on the beach, her shoving me, and me laughing. Falling asleep beside her. Her sending me the hottest pictures I’ve ever seen in my life.

Too good, actually. Better than I ever imagined it could be. It’s not just the photos we send back and forth, and it’s not just that I jerk off daily thinking about her and only her. It’s that I think about her constantly, and I can’t wait to get home to her.

A realization looms at the edge of my consciousness. My feelings for Hazel grow every day, and I’ve never felt like this. This could all be over in a heartbeat, though. Just because I’m trying not to be like Rick Miller doesn’t mean it’s working.

“Still pretending?” Streicher asks, glancing at my phone.

I’ve got a photo of Hazel from this morning pulled up. She’s wearing a toque, and her cheeks and nose are pink from the cold. My chest feels tight and warm.

The realization I’m avoiding starts pounding on the door, demanding attention. I don’t know what this is to Hazel. We still have a deadline on this thing between us.

“I don’t know.” I clear my throat as my chest pulls tight.

Streicher makes a noise of acknowledgment like he isn’t fucking surprised, and I have the urge to grab him by the shirt and shake him.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” I ask, keeping my voice low so the guys don’t overhear.

Streicher gives me a disinterested look. “Warn you about what?”

My mind goes to Hazel crying on the street after her family dinner and the unbearable pain of seeing her hurt and disappointed like that. The urge to fix things, the need to make everything better. I shake my head, at a loss for words. “That it was going to be like this.” I exhale a heavy, frustrated breath, meeting his eyes. “It’s different with her, you know?”

He watches me for a long moment. “Good.” He sets his phone down. “You mention this to Hazel yet?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know.” If she doesn’t feel the same way, it’ll ruin everything we have. “It’s fake to her.”

We stare at the TV for a beat. “At least give her the option of rejecting you instead of doing it yourself.”

There’s a long, low whistle, and I look up to see McKinnon standing over us, watching the TV.

“Too bad,” he says as they show my goal stats this season compared to previous years. “Maybe if you spent more time training and less time crying and jerking off to pictures of Hazel, your stock wouldn’t be crashing.”

If Hazel said the thing about me crying and jerking off, I’d laugh, but because it’s her fuckface ex, I just stare at him, territorial anger simmering inside me.

“Need something, McKinnon?”

Streicher gives McKinnon a cold, intimidating stare, but McKinnon ignores it, dropping into the seat across from us.

“Nope.” He smirks, eyes red and bleary. “I can see the appeal of it, though.” He slurs like he’s drunk. Thank fuck Ward took pity on me and gave me my own room for this leg of the trip.

“What are you talking about?” Streicher’s tone is flat and unimpressed.

Connor just smirks right at me. “Miller will find out soon enough.” He catches the attention of a passing server. “Get me another beer, would you?”

My fist clenches with irritation before I give the server an apologetic look. “Thank you,” I tell her before shaking my head at him. “Use your fucking manners, McKinnon. Don’t make the team look bad.”

He scoffs, leaning back in his chair and staring at the server’s ass as she walks away. “She’s fine. She likes me. If you give them too much attention, they get clingy.” He burps into his fist. “But if you leave them wanting more, they work harder for your attention.” His gaze swings to me, eyes full of hate. “It worked for Hazel.”

Even as protective rage roars through me, I keep my expression relaxed and amused. “She’s moved on, and you should, too. It’s getting sad.”

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