Ashton freezes. "What?"
"For their dev camp. They want to look at you for their system." I force a smile. "Congrats, man."
"Are you serious?" His face lights up. "They want me?"
"Yeah. My dad wants to talk to you about it. He's offering to be your agent."
"Holy shit." Ashton runs his hand through his hair. "I never thought—I mean, I figured after college I'd be hanging up the skates. Maybe coaching high school or something."
"You're good enough for the pros. You always have been."
"This is insane." He's grinning now. "We could do this together. You and me. Like we always talked about when we were kids."
"Yeah." The word feels hollow. "It's great."
"You don't sound excited."
"I am. I just—there's a lot to think about."
"Sutton?"
"Among other things."
Ashton's expression softens. "Man, I know this is complicated. But this is our shot. We have to take it."
"Do we?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean—" I struggle to find the words. "Nothing.”
Ashton stares at me. "Are you seriously considering turning this down?"
"I don't know what I'm considering."
"Declan, this is the NHL. This is what we've worked our entire lives for."
"I know."
"Then what's the problem?"
“Nothing. It’s cool. My dad wants to take you to dinner so he can do his whole spiel.”
“Cool.”
He's already made his decision. He's going.
And he expects me to go with him.
When I get home that evening, I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. Sutton and Keira are apparently making dinner for the house.
There’s flour everywhere. Both of them are covered in it. A pop song is playing from Sutton's phone, and they're singing along off-key about a maneater.
Only a little disturbing.
"Declan!" Sutton lights up when she sees me. "You're home! We're making pizza from scratch. Want to help?"
She’s beautiful. How can I leave her? She lights up my whole world. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. When I see her, my soul lights up.
