He’s not talking about home ice advantage. “Can she fly out?”

“I already tried that. She’s gotta work this weekend, and we’re only gone a couple of days. Besides, even if she could rearrange her schedule, she wants to be here with Sunny while Miller’s away.”

“Yeah, right. That’s gotta be hard on him, aye?”

“He’s pretty fucking freaked out that Sunny’s gonna go into labor while we’re away.”

“It kinda still blows my mind that he’s having a kid.”

“If there’s anyone who can handle it, it’s Miller, you know? Sunny’s chill, and he doesn’t get all worked up about much, so they’ll be okay no matter how it rolls out. And it’s good that Lily’s gonna be here, even if it means she can’t come to the away games.”

“Are you worried about her not being there?”

“I’m used to seeing her every day, so it’s gonna be an adjustment.”

I nod like I understand, even though I don’t. Not really. When Tash and I were doing what we were doing, it was always secretive and on the down low. I saw her almost every day for training sessions, but we never actually talked to each other while other people were around.

The time we got caught in the locker room was an isolated incident she manipulated me into.

“You hear anything else from Tash this week?”

“Other than text messages and voicemails telling me I’m an asshole and she hates me, nope.”

“Man, you must’ve really pissed her off.”

“Yup.”

“You wanna talk about it at all?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Just know if you run into problems with her, or she shows up looking to cause trouble, you can always call me and Lily.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled.” That’s untrue. I don’t have it handled at all, but I’m not about to drag Randy and Lily into my messed up BS.

I’ve never told Randy, and probably never will, about the why behind the actions. Explaining the whole mess with Tash would require far more than I’m interested in divulging to him, or anyone else, about my messy, fucked-up past and the shit I had to deal with as a kid. I tried telling Tash, and I know where it got me.

We arrive at the gym with lots of time to change and warm up before the workout starts. I check my phone in case I missed a message from Poppy, but there’s nothing, so I toss it in my bag and stuff that in my locker, hoping I’ll hear from her by the time I’m done at the gym.

I’m slow and uncoordinated during the training session, and the ache in my lower back gets progressively worse, as does the twinge in my neck.

Smart finds me in the locker room before I have a chance to get changed and pulls me aside, looking less than pleased. “Did you make another appointment with the massage therapist like I told you to?”

“I tried, but she was all booked up this week. I’m on a list for a cancellation.”

“You need to see someone today, or you’re not getting on the plane tomorrow morning.”

“What?”

“You were sloppy and all over the place today. You can’t get on the ice the way you are, and there’s no point in having you come to a game you’re not even going to be able to play.”

“You think Coach will go for that?”

“He’s the one who told me to give you the options. You’ll be stiff as hell tomorrow if you don’t get this taken care of, and I don’t need you out before the season’s even started.”

“Well, what the hell can I do if she doesn’t have an opening?”

“I can get you in with someone else this afternoon.”

I run a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. Panic forces a shiver down my spine. “I don’t want someone else. Can’t you call that clinic and get them to rearrange her schedule so she can fit me in?”

Smart snorts. “The world doesn’t revolve around your wants and needs, Romero. I can get you on a table before the end of the day, but it’s gonna be here, not at the clinic. That was me calling in a favor so we don’t lose a good player with the beginning of the season right around the corner. I’m trying to ease Waters back in to it, and we need strong defense. Butterson can’t do it on his own.”

“What if I can get the clinic to take me?”

Smart raises an eyebrow. “You wanna risk not coming to the game by banking on a cancellation?”

“No.” I rummage around in my locker for my phone. Poppy’s gotten back to me, but it’s not with good news. She doesn’t have any openings—not at the clinic, anyway. I cross my fingers that she’s not in the middle of a massage as I pull up her contact and hit call.

Smart crosses his arms over his chest while I hold up a finger and wait for an answer. She picks up on the fourth ring.

“Hello?” Her voice is soft and warm, the way her hands felt on me.

“Hey, hi. Are you busy? Did I call at a bad time?”

“What the hell are you doing? Planning a date?” Smart asks, incredulous.

“Hold on.” I cover the receiver. “I’m seeing if I can get in with the massage therapist.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Poppy? You there?”

“I’m here. What’s up? There haven’t been any cancellations since I messaged you half an hour ago.”