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Something that can never be there.
“I’m going to end this right now. So listen up. Beckett is like a brother to me, which means Laney is like a sister. She got a job in Chicago, and I'm doing her a solid by letting her crash at my place until she finds a place of her own to stay. End of story.”
Mercer laughs as the line starts moving. I push off with them.
Jax gives a low whistle.
I cut him a look.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He sweeps his stick in my direction. “That’s twice you’ve said nothing when your face says the exact opposite.”
“Fuck off.”
Coach sends the next group. We wait.
Deacon looks at me. “Your place is fucking sick, though.”
Like a puppy with a bone, this one.
I glance over. “You’ve never been to my place.”
“No, but these assholes never shut up about it.”
“The view is fucking incredible.” Beau chimes in.
Mercer nods. “And the couch is bigger than my first apartment.”
“Damn, Mercer. Anything else you’d like to tell them? Alarm code? Social Security number?”
“Let me think?” Mercer taps his chin. “Nah… if I think of anything, I’ll send out a group text later.”
Deacon grins. “So why is she in a rush to find a place? Sounds like a pretty nice setup.”
Because Laney wants a place to call her own, the answer comes immediately, but I don’t give it to them. Because I don’t understand why the last place she wants to be is under my roof.
Instead, I tap my stick against the ice as the group ahead of us clears the zone. “Because she’s looking for her own place.”
Mercer watches me for a half second longer than necessary.
Then, Coach points at our line. “Go.”
Conversation over. I explode off the line. Cold air burns the back of my throat as I pick up speed. Jax carries the puck through the center with Mercer moving up the opposite side. I cut down the middle, forcing Tallis to choose.
He commits to me. Too early. I could shoot, but the second he closes the gap, Mercer has daylight. I pull the puck across my body and send it through the lane Tallis just abandoned.
Tape to tape. Mercer buries it.
I coast toward Deacon. “Stop chasing.”
“I wasn’t chasing.”
“You followed me halfway across the fucking zone.”
“That’s dramatic.”
