I suck in a few deep breaths, straighten—it hurts a lot—and step away from the wall, bracing for the next shot. He fakes me out a second time and lands a hook to my side. I fall on a bag of garbage, which explodes under me. Thankfully, it seems to be a bunch of paper and plastic.

“You all right, Ship?” Kingston asks.

“Fine. Gimme a sec.”

Just as I get back on my feet and Rook returns to his boxer stance, the door slams open, sending Kingston stumbling forward. “What in the ever-loving hell is going on here?” Coach Waters steps out in the alleyway, face contorting with a grimace as he takes in the three of us and the odor registers.

I try to cop a natural lean against a dumpster because my side is killing me. Also, I might vomit soon, thanks to the pain and the putrid smell out here. Meanwhile Rook shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Just having a conversation, Alex,” Rook says. It would be somewhat believable if we both weren’t breathing heavily. We’re also sweaty.

Alex looks to Kingston.

He clasps his hands in front of him. “They’re resolving their differences, and I’m mediating to ensure it doesn’t get out of hand.”

“So you’re refereeing?”

“No, sir, just mediating a discussion as an impartial observer who would like to see my teammates get along so we can play the best hockey possible.”

“You could probably sell a space heater to someone living in a damn desert,” Alex grumbles. He turns to us and sighs. “You two get it all out?”

“Just about, yeah.” Rook nods.

“Yup,” I add.

“Get your asses up to your rooms. We’ve got an early morning.” Alex holds the door open and ushers us all inside. Kingston leads the way and we follow, with Alex behind us, like a kindergarten teacher making sure his kids don’t get out of line. “Jesus, you two smell like you were rolling around in the dumpster,” he gripes.

He chaperones us to the elevator, shaking his head as we wait for the doors to open. “You good to get these two upstairs without them murdering each other on the way there?” he asks Kingston.

“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure they keep their hands to themselves.”

The three of us step inside, and I think Kingston instantly regrets it because Rook and I stink like trash. He jabs the button for our floor, and the doors slide closed.

“I have one hit left.” Rook gets back into his fighting stance.

I hold my arms wide. “Have at it.”

He goes for the spleen this time, and I stumble back, grabbing hold of the handrail so I don’t go down. He can really throw a punch. I cough a few times. “You gonna stand in my way with Stevie?”

“Not if you’re what she wants.” The doors slide open at his floor, and he takes a step out into the hall, holding his hand over the sensor. “But if you break her heart, I’m going to break you.”

“I’d let you.”

“Glad we’re finally on the same page.”

CHAPTER 26

DAD-BRO

Stevie

It’s the day the team is scheduled to come home, and I’m up ridiculously early. I’ve been sleeping like crap since the whole thing with Bishop went down. It got worse after he sent me a We need to talk message a few days ago. In my experience, a message like that has never been attached to a positive conversation.

I wander around my apartment for a good half hour before I get antsy and decide I need to do something active to help manage my anxiety. I know the team is supposed to be home early this afternoon, but there are a lot of hours between now and then, and I don’t think I can handle hanging around my apartment, waiting for him.

I want to message Bishop, but it’s been three days of silence from me since he sent his text, so messaging seems pretty anticlimactic at this point. Also, if I send one now, then I’m going to either check every four seconds to see if he’s replied or continue sending messages until he responds, which will make me look desperate. Even if this is accurate, I don’t think it’s a good strategy.

I realize I’ve fucked up. Does it suck that there’s a viral video of me and Bishop making out? Yup. But that wasn’t his fault, and I’ve spent a week avoiding him instead of dealing with the fallout, because I’m scared. Avoidance seems to be my go-to tactic for handling uncomfortable situations. I need to grow up. Hindsight is such a bitch.

Fortunately, Pattie and Jules have already invited me over for brunch today. It’s meant as a distraction from Bishop’s impending return. It’s still way early for me to go over there, so I take the bus to the clinic, intending to burn off some anxiety. I change into my bathing suit and head to the pool. It doesn’t matter what kind of physical activity I engage in these days; it all reminds me of Bishop.

I flip over and start a steady back crawl. When I reach the end of the pool, I somersault underwater and change to a front crawl. After a few laps I come up for air and shriek when I find a pair of hairy-toed feet at the edge of the pool.

“Jesus Christ, Joey! What the hell are you doing, other than being a creepy-ass bastard?”

He ignores the insult and gives me a look I can’t quite decipher. “How are you, Stevie?”

“I was fine until you scared the crap out of me with your hobbit toes.” Joey’s feet have always freaked me out. I swim over to the ladder and pull myself out of the water. I left my towel in the changing room, so I have nothing to wrap around my body apart from my arms, which don’t cover much. Thankfully, I’m wearing a full-coverage bathing suit that mashes my boobs down and is purely functional, unlike the bathing suits I wore when Bishop and I had our water-therapy sessions.

I wish I could stop thinking about him.

“Really? You’re not upset?”

“About?” I shake my head to get the water out of my ear.

“Oh shit. You haven’t seen it yet, have you?” He feigns surprise.

I sigh. I have no interest in falling into another trap set by my douche ex. “Why can’t you leave me alone, Joey?”

“Look, Stevie, I know I can’t win you back. I get it, but I don’t want you to set yourself up to get hurt again. I thought you should be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” I try to step around him, but he blocks my way and holds his phone up in front of my face. I grab it from him, ready to toss it in the pool. At least until I see what’s on the screen.

Bishop with a petite brunette tucked in to his side. It could be nothing. But it could be something too. Especially since he’s not angrily glaring at the camera. If it is something, I have no one to blame but myself, since I’m the one who said sleeping together was a mistake. I’m such an idiot.

“Looks like I really know how to pick ’em, huh?” I slap the phone against Joey’s chest.

When I try to walk away, he grips my wrist. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I just thought you should know.”

“Well, I know, so job well done. Can you let me go now?”

“I could take you out for coffee if you want to talk about it? I messed things up with you and me. I might not be able to fix it, but I could be a friend.”

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, searching for an ounce of composure. “You betrayed me and you tried to make it my fault.”