He probably hasn’t. Not like this.
“Okay, fine.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “Maybe I was a little tense.”
“‘A little tense,’” Logan mimics. “Bro, you nearly took Henderson’s head off last week for breathing too loud during film review.”
“He was breathing loud. It was distracting.”
“You need to get laid more often. You’re way more tolerable like this.”
Okay, maybe I was that bad.
Archer settles onto the bench across from me, pulling on his pads. “So what’s the situation? You guys official? Keeping it quiet?”
“Keeping it quiet for now. At least until the season is over.” I run a hand through my hair. “Dana knows. She’s... handling it. Tori got reassigned off my case, but she’s still with the team.”
“That’s good. Could’ve been worse.”
“Yeah.” It could’ve been a lot worse. I’m still grateful every day that Dana listened, that she gave us a chance instead of just following policy to the letter.
“How’s Maisie taking it?” Banks asks, and the question catches me off guard. Not because it’s intrusive, but because he remembered. Because he thought to ask.
Banks doesn’t do small talk. Doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t care about the answers to. The fact that he’s wondering how Maze is doing—says more about our friendship than a hundred locker room conversations.
I feel a sudden surge of gratitude for these guys. This team. The family I’ve built here without even realizing I was doing it.
“She’s, uh... she’s good. Really good, actually.” I can’t help the smile that creeps across my face. “She’s been asking when Tori can come over for dinner again. Apparently, I’m ‘boring’ and Tori knows all the words to theMoanasongs.”
“Brutal,” Logan says. “Upstaged by a Disney soundtrack.”
“You have no idea. Last week, Maisie informed me that Tori’s grilled cheese is better than mine. Which is insane because I use three kinds of cheese.”
“Maybe it’s not about the cheese,” Archer says, and there’s something knowing in his voice. “Maybe it’s about who’s making it.”
I don’t have a response to that. Because he’s right. It’s not about the sandwich. It’s about Maisie seeing someone who shows up, who keeps promises, who fits into our little two-person world like she was always meant to be there. It’s about her finally having a positive maternal figure who’s not just her nanny.
“She’s good for you,” Banks says quietly. “Tori. I’ve noticed.”
“Noticed what?”
“You’re different when she’s around. Less...” He waves a hand vaguely. “Clenched.”
“Clenched?” My eyebrows dart up. That’s not a pleasant word. Is that really what my teammates thought of me?
“You know what I mean. You’re always carrying everything yourself. The kid, the career, the pressure. Like you’re afraid to let anyone help.” He shrugs. “With her, you seem like you actually breathe.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Banks isn’t exactly known for his emotional insights—or for sharing them, at least. The fact that he’s noticed, that he’s saying something, means more than I know how to express.
“Thanks, man.”
He nods, and that’s the end of it. No big moment, no lengthy heart-to-heart. Just acknowledgment between two guys who’ve been in the trenches together.
Logan, of course, has to ruin the moment. “So when do we get to officially meet her? Like, as your girlfriend? Because I have a lot of questions about your medical history that I feel she could answer.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on. Just a few questions. Like, what’s his pain tolerance really? Because he acts all tough, but I saw him limping for twenty minutes after that love tap from Boston’s third liner.”
“That was not a love tap. He caught my knee, you dick.”
