“Did you sleep with someone’s wife?” Logan asks, teasing me. I know he’s just being a little shit, but the comment pisses me off.
“Yeah, my own,” I mutter. I think it’s quiet enough that no one will hear, but Ryder’s mouth drops open.
“Dude. What?”
Well, they’re bound to find out, eventually. Especially with what I have planned. And there won’t be any hiding the rift between Maddox and me. I clear my throat and find Ryder, Logan, and Sebastian looking at me like some sideshow animal with two heads.
Right. Here goes nothing.
“Yeah. So, I’m married.”
Total. Fucking. Silence falls over the locker room. The whole team is staring at me now.
Logan is the first one to speak, his voice high and pitchy. “You’re what, now?”
“Hitched. Off the market. Married.” I run a hand through my hair, agitated by this whole situation.
“When?” Logan gapes at me.
“Uh, for almost four months.”
“Four months? The fuck? To who?”
“To whom,” I mutter. Logan is not amused.
“Wait, almost four months ago, we played that away series in Vegas.” Ryder is squinting at me like that’ll help him figure thisall out. Maybe he’s hoping he’ll suddenly develop X-ray vision or telepathy or some shit.
Logan frowns. “Wait, you’re married? What does your roommate think about that? She’s just what, been staying in the spare room, with you and your wife across the hall? That’s weird, dude.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Pinching the bridge of my nose, my eyes fall closed.
“Seriously?” I hear Bash mutter incredulously at Logan.
“What the fuck are you all doing, standing around?” Maddox’s voice booms like a cannon in the locker room, and my eyes fly open. He slams his bag down on the bench and glares at all of us, his angry eyes lingering on me.
“Dude, did you know Griffin is married?” Logan asks.
Pretty sure steam is about to pour out of Maddox’s ears. His face gets all red, and his eyes practically glow with the fires of hell. “Stop standing around gossiping like a bunch of old ladies, get your gear on, and get your asses on the ice,” he shouts before shooting daggers at everyone and storming into the bathroom.
Ryder looks between Maddox’s retreating form and me. His mouth drops open. “You didn’t.”
My silence is answer enough, and the rookie gapes at me.
“You married his sister in Vegas? Do you have a death wish?”
“I knew it,” Bash says.
“Wait. Wait, you and Mira?” Logan runs a hand over the scruff of his jaw. His eyes narrow on me. “That’s why you stopped going out with me? You married Maddox’s sister? What the hell?”
“How many times are you assholes going to ask me the same questions?” Turning my back on them, I tug off my hoodie and start changing into my practice gear. “Yes, I married Mira. No, Maddox didn’t know until yesterday. He’s obviously pissed about it, and yes, he’s the one who punched me in the face. No, Idon’t regret it, no, I don’t care what any of you think, and yes, it’s complicated right now, but it won’t be forever, because I fucking love my wife and I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove it to her. Any more questions?”
“Yeah,” Maddox says. He’s standing behind me with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown marring his face. “Are you ready to drop down to the second line? Because I sure as shit can’t trust you to have my back on the ice when you just stabbed me in it.”
Right.
Lifting my chin, I stare my best friend down, ignoring the sting of his distrust and rejection. “Do whatever you have to do, man. I plan to.”
forty-six
