I just needed my phone. Needed to know why she wasn’t there. Needed to know that she was okay.
Unlocking my screen, the relief is immediate when I see her text from four hours earlier:
Rosie:I’m so, so sorry. I won’t be at your game tonight. Dierks and I need to stay behind and work on a case that’s gone sideways. I’m so sorry. Good luck. I’ll see you later tonight.
And there’s another text right after hers from my brother.
Levi: Looked bad out there on the ice. Need your big brother to come give you some tips?
I type back instantly.
Boone: Fuck you.
Boone: Come visit. You’d like Brookhaven and my wife.
Levi: I’ll be down soon. Love you little bro.
I exhale and slide my phone back into my bag, shaking my head.
“You played like shit,” Penn says, his voice cutting through the hum of the locker room.
I glance up, scowling. “No, I didn’t. I never play like shit.”
He snorts, pulling off his jersey. “Well, it wasn’t your best work. Do you know how extra hard I have to work on defense with you guys up there fucking around playing with the puck like it’s your dicks?”
“Had stuff on my mind,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Uh-oh,” he says with a smirk. “Trouble in paradise with the wife already?”
I don’t respond right away. Because no, there’s no trouble. Not even close. Things with Rosie have been incredible—insane, honestly. Every time I think about her, I smile. It’s like I can’t get enough. She’s in my head constantly.
I am willingly and obviously in love with my wife.
Feels good to know that. It’d feel even better to tell her that.
The truth is, Rosie grounds me. She’s the reason I’ve been so locked in lately, so focused. Without her here, it’s like everything feels a little off kilter.
I run a hand over my face, sighing. “No trouble. Things are… amazing, actually.”
Penn raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Amazing, huh? Then what has you down?”
“Just... something else.”
He nods. “Your final court appearance is tomorrow?”
“Yeah, my lawyer thinks everything’ll get dismissed by the end of the day.”
He nods, his shoulders easing like he’s been carrying the weight himself which would make sense since he's the one who started the damn fight and should actually be on trial, not me.
“That’s good, man. Real good.” He tugs at the back of his neck nervously like there’s something else he wants to say then finally muttersfuck itunder his breath. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about… you know, me and Anastasia.”
Honestly, if it weren’t for Rosie casually mentioning she ran into my ex-fiancé Anastasia in the skybox, or the fleeting comment she made this weekend after I’d left her breathless for the third time, I wouldn’t have even known Penn was seeing her.
And I don’t care. Anastasia’s not someone who crosses my mind these days. She became the past the moment I ended our engagement, and that’s exactly where she’s staying. I don’t think about her. I don’t reminisce. That chapter of my life feels like someone else’s’.
I shake my head and squeeze his shoulder, giving him an easy grin. “There’s nothing to talk about. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
His brows pinch, like he was expecting more of a reaction. Maybe even a fight. But when have I ever been the guy to start one?
