Page 120 of Offside Angle

I’m pulling off my gloves when I feel someone step up beside me. I glance over and see Santi standing there, camera strap around his neck.

“You kept your head,” he says.

I shrug, letting out a tired sigh as I drop my gloves into my stall. “Yeah… we still lost.”

“Yeah,” Santi agrees.

I glance around to make sure no one’s paying too much attention to us, then lean in a little closer, lowering my voice. “But I do have some things I wanna try with you.”

Santi’s eyebrows lift. “Bold of you,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching.

I can feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck, but I don’t look away.

Most of the guys clear out pretty quickly after Damian’s talk. I hang back, pretending to scroll through my phone until the locker room empties out. Once it’s quiet, I grab my bag and head down the hallway toward the coaches’ offices.

I stop in front of Damian’s door and knock once, then open it very slowly. You learn that lesson the hard way around here.

“Kade, got a minute?” I ask as I step inside.

Damian is sitting behind his desk, looking over something on his laptop. He glances up when he hears my voice. “Yeah, Rivera. Talk to me.”

I close the door behind me and drop into the chair across from him, suddenly feeling like I’m back in high school getting called into the principal’s office. “Got a favor to ask.”

Damian raises an eyebrow, already looking mildly suspicious. “Tomorrow we’re flying to Vancouver,” I start, rubbing the back of my neck. “Usually you put me with Jace in the room.”

He keeps staring at me with that unreadable expression. I can already tell he knows exactly where this is going. “Spit it out, Mats,” he says.

I take a breath. “Put me up with Vega.”

Damian lets out a long sigh and leans back in his chair. For a second, I think he’s going to tell me no. Instead, he gives me that slow, dangerous little smirk he gets when he’s about to make someone’s life difficult in the most Damian way possible.

“You sure about that, Rivera?” he asks, deceptively calm. “Because if I put you two in a room together and I hear even one complaint from the front desk about noise or broken furniture, I’m making you room with Elias for the rest of the playoffs. And we both know how well that worked out last time.”

I blink. “…You wouldn’t.”

Damian’s smirk widens. “Try me.”

The lobby of the Vancouver hotel is loud with tired players and staff, everyone hovering near reception as Damian starts handing out key cards like he always does on the road. I’m half-distracted, digging through my bag for my phone charger while I wait for my name to be called.

“Vega.”

I don’t even look up. I just sling my bag higher on my shoulder and walk toward Damian with one hand already extended for the key card.

“You’re with Rivera.”

My steps falter for half a second.

I finally lift my eyes from my bag and look at Damian, surprised. He meets my gaze with a completely neutral expression, one eyebrow slightly raised, daring me to say something about it.

He shrugs and tilts his chin toward the group of guys near the elevators.

I follow his line of sight and spot Matteo immediately.

He’s standing with Jace, laughing so hard he has to brace a hand on the other man’s shoulder. When he notices me looking, his eyes meet mine and that little smirk appears — the smug, satisfied one he gets when he’s pulled something off.

I raise an eyebrow at him then I turn back to Damian, who is now very obviously trying not to look amused. “Something you want to say?” he asks, holding the key card out between two fingers.

I take it slowly. “No,” I murmur, slipping the card into my pocket. “Just… unexpected.”