She holds up one perfectly tipped manicured finger before tapping on her phone.
“‘Cash Williams—is he really worth the headache the team puts up with? by Franklin Weber.’”
For fuck’s sake, I can’t believe this is what I have to deal with.
Cassie continues, ignoring me, reading his latest article.
Cash Williams has been known as the perpetual bad boy. His behavior on and off the ice is something that no Black Diamond fanshould have to put up with. Being the team bruiser, getting into fights on the ice, Williams’s attitude and disrespect for the press is evident in every postgame interview. We never see him involved in any of the charities the team supports. How much longer will we have to put up with it?
“Cassie, come on, I don’t have time to listen to this shit right now. I need to practice.”
“We’re all doing things we don’t want to do right now. And I’d love it if you weren’t a pain in my ass every day, Williams.”
“Can I go practice now?”
She gives me that same twisted look on her face. “Fine, meet me in the office after practice. I have a plan to make all of this go away.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I tell her through gritted teeth. I have a feeling whatever the plan is, I am not going to like it.
By the time I hit the ice, I’m fully distracted. Missing passes, easy shots on goal, and taking the ire of my teammates around me.
“What crawled up your ass, Willy?” Duncan shouts my nickname from across the ice.
Tension is boiling inside of me, and Duncan the Douche would be a great outlet.
“Let it go,” Troy says as he skates up to me, not letting me pass. “You’re only going to make it worse.”
“Why is he such a dick?” I grumble, skating back to the bench and taking a swig of water.
“Because he thinks he’s God’s gift to hockey.”
“Just let me hit him once.”
Troy laughs. “Sorry, Willy. Can’t do that.”
The whistle blows before Coach Barney tells us it’s time for drills.
“Just the way I wanted to end practice.”
“Dude, what’s up with you today?” Troy asks. “You’re usually not this distracted.”
“It’s Cassie, man. She read me that article by Weber today.”
Troy waves me off. “We all know he just likes to start shit. I wouldn’t think twice about it.”
“Oh, so you don’t think I shouldn’t be a Black Diamond then?” I ask him, quirking a brow in his direction.
“Did he really say that?”
“He did, and I really don’t want to have to deal with having to find another team.”
“You should go play for the Knights, man. You’d probably fit in a lot better there,” Duncan chirps, eavesdropping from his spot on the ice.
Fucking Duncan—he’s the last person I want to be dealing with right now.
“And maybe you should go play for the Knights. You’d fit in a lot better there with your cocky-ass attitude.”
“Enough chitchat, boys. Get to work.” Coach Barney turns a steely-eyed gaze on us.
