Page 82

Fuuck.

Reed’s staring at me when I jog off the field, and I force a smile, knowing he’s not the type to ask me what the hell is going on.

“Good game,” I offer, because for him, it was.

“Hell yeah.” He smiles back at me just as someone slaps me on the back.

“What the hell happened out there?” Enter the guy that is the type to question me. Zane.

“We won, Zane. Leave him alone.”

“He’s lucky we did.”

Reed’s eyes flash to mine as he frowns. “Don’t⁠—”

“Thanks, Reed, but Zane’s right. I’ve been in my head all game and I shouldn’t be. I’m not usually like that, and I’m⁠—”

“Ahh. Sorry, man.” Zane changes his tune, his expression morphing from annoyance to concern, making my head spin. “We all have bad days.”

What?

“You’re coming to Luke and Amelia’s New Year’s Eve party, right?” Reed asks, his voice now laced with the same level of concern. “A night with friends always helps get me out of my head.”

I’m quiet for a beat, my eyes bouncing between the two of them as his question sinks in. It’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow. And we’ve got Tuesday off… “Actually. I’m going to New Orleans for New Year’s. How about you put me down for the next one.” Without waiting for a response, I pat Reed on the shoulder and beeline for the locker room, feeling significantly lighter than I did five minutes ago.

Reed asked if I was going to Luke and Amelia’s party. Not Luke’s. Even though I’ve never officially met Luke’s wife. Because they’re a team. Luke and Amelia.

I’ve heard some of my teammates talking about their wives and partners in the locker room, but it never really registered.

I want Lily. I’ve been going out of my mind thinking about her, and yet I walked away without actually telling her how I felt. Without filling her in on all of my reservations. My reasons. I never gave her the chance to argue my points or agree with me.

Atlas said that he knew Henley would be okay because they’d talk through it every step of the way.

Lily deserves that too.

Mom deserved that, and I never stopped to even consider it. I never stopped to wonder how she’d feel about me distancing myself to protect her.

It’s time I let someone else in. It’s time to go home.

After psyching myself up for what I’m sure will be grueling postgame interviews, I’ve just made it into the hallway when Coach calls my name.

“Beckett! My office. Now.”

I internally cringe, but turn with a smile, following after him. Of course he wants to see me. I’m the goddamn captain and I played like I was allergic to the ball.

“I know why you want to see me, Coach.” I wait for him to sit down behind his desk before sitting opposite him, looking him in the eyes. “I played like shit out there. I let the team down. I⁠—"

“I don’t need a play-by-play. I was watching.”

“I’m sorry, Coach. I let my personal life get in my head. But it won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t. You’re lucky the team was able to carry you.”

Holding his stare, I nod, owning it. I deserve his wrath. “I know.”

“Good. But that’s not why I called you in here.”

“It’s not?” My composure slips as my brows furrow.