Page 165 of Hard Pass

“Who are you?” Malachi asks. “An eighty-year-old woman?”

We all laugh as Jaxon rolls his eyes.

“Nah, their defense is brutal, but their offense is shit,” I say.

“So you’re going to get the shit end of the stick is what you’re saying?” Jaxon asks.

“What are you? A comedian?” Tristan asks.

“You’re all laughing and Cole gets to relax, so sure. I’ll take that,” Jaxon says. “But really? You’re feeling good? The arm’s in top form?”

“So far so good,” I murmur.

“What about the hand?” Malachi asks.

I glance down at it, flex once. “It’s . . .” I pause, rephrase what I was going to say. “It feels good.”

“Jax went on a date last night,” Malachi says, eyebrows lifted.

“Dude. Why are we picking on me? We’re here for Cole. Let’s focus on—”

“How was it?” I ask, cutting him off, happy to redirect the focus off me.

The conversation carries on. I’m half listening, half slowly getting my head into work mode. I lean back, when bit of a conversation across the room catches my ear.

“. . . I was just trying to help her understand the play,” one voice says.

“You told her that?” the other says. “Man—”

I glance over. It’s two guys, one a practice squad receiver and the other a staffer.

“I know, I know,” the staffer says. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Relax,” the receiver says. “No one knows what’s said in here. You’re fine.”

They both laugh it off and move on like it’s nothing.

But the conversation sticks in my head, especially the no one knows what’s said in here.

Except . . . what if someone does?

My gaze drifts to the door. To the hallway beyond. To the people moving in and out like they don’t matter. Like they’re invisible.

I sit with it for a bit while the guys fuck with each other. Is my logic flawed? Is what I’m about to do completely unwarranted?

“You need to get ready?” Jaxon asks when I stand.

“Yep. It’s time,” I say.

They say their good lucks and pat me on the back and just as they head for the door, that final piece snaps into place.

“Hey, Mal?” I say just before he clears the door.

“Yeah?” He turns back.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Dublin