I point to Noah’s empty locker.
“You didn’t hear the news? He got traded.”
“Fuck. Are you serious?”
Troy’s nod is grim. “To Nashville. Bexley didn’t tell you?”
“Why would she tell me that?” I follow Troy to our cubbies. Cash is already there, drinking his pregame smoothie that looks like grass.
“I don’t know. Pillow talk maybe?”
I groan, wanting to beat my head against the locker.
“Seriously, Troy? Not cool,” Cash calls him out.
“What? Not pillow talk, but I only assumed she would have told you.”
“Nope. I haven’t seen her since the news broke.”
“Oh shit,” Troy says, offering me a consolatory look. “That sucks, man.”
“Noah really got cut?” I ask him. I look to Cash, who nods his confirmation. “Why didn’t he say goodbye?”
Cash shrugs a shoulder. “You know how fast these things happen. Nashville has a game in San Jose tonight, so they wanted him there to start bonding with the team.”
I wince. “God, he’s going to hate playing with Graham.”
That must have been what that reporter was talking about. What a fucking nightmare—them thinking my relationship with Bex had anything to do with it.
It feels weird, chatting with the guys and not having Noah here. Even though I haven’t been playing long, Noah has been with me since the start of my tenure with the team. He helped ease the transition from college to the big leagues.
Going out onto the ice without him tonight is going to be a big change. I know things can happen in this league, and while I wish I could have talked to Bex about this, it’s been a day.
One that I can’t wait to be over.
By the time the game starts, I’m a ball of nervous energy. The vibe feels different to me. Maybe I’m picking up on something that’s not there, but it’s like everyone is judging me.
Judging every decision related to me and the team.
Judging my relationship with Bexley.
Hell, judging me as a person in general.
One of the guys from Vegas breaks off from the team and skates toward me.
The cocky smile on his face has me wanting to punch it off. “Think I could get her to spread her legs for me?”
“What the fuck?” I snarl at him.
“Will any player do? Or is she only hot for goalies?”
The sneer on this guy’s face has me skating toward him, but Cash blocks my path.
“Don’t. It’s not worth it.”
“Did you hear what he said?” I yell at him, trying to skate around him. I want to grab him by his ugly-as-sin orange-and-brown jersey and shake him. Bex doesn’t deserve those words.
“No, but you need to get your shit together so we can win this game. You got me?” He gives me a hard stare, one that I’m none too excited about.
