I stand in the lobby waiting for my room key when my father walks over to me.
“Everything set for tomorrow?” he asks.
“Yeah. Media’s coordinated, pre-game schedule’s locked in.”
“Good.” He furrows his brows and claps me on the shoulder. “You’ve seemed stressed lately.”
“I’m fine. Just busy with the media schedule and managing the Alex situation. He’s still in Oakland writing a profile piece on Masterson. I’m keeping an eye on it.”
“Should I be worried?”
Yes. But I don’t saythat.“No. I’m managing it.”
“Okay. Good. See you at dinner.” He grabs his room key from the front desk and heads for the elevators.
I check in right afterward, get a key to room 512 and head upstairs. I drop my bag and check my phone when it pings.
My heart jumps into my throat when I see the text from Danny.
What’s your room number?
I hesitate, my finger hovering over the screen. This is risky. We’re traveling with the entire team and coaching staff. And everyone is scattered all around the hotel. We can be spotted. So fucking easily.
But I text him back anyway.
512. Yours?
438.
I shake my head.We can’t. Too risky.
I know. Just wanted to know where you are.
I put the phone down and try not to think about the fact that he’s one floor below me and I can’t see him.
At seven o’clock, the team gathers in the hotel restaurant. I sit at a table with my father and the assistant coaches. The players are scattered across several tables…Jack and Carter at one, Tate with defensemen at another, Danny with Cam and a few others near the window.
Dinner’s the usual pre-game meal of pasta, chicken, and salads. I listen to the conversation with half an ear,fighting the temptation to glance over at Danny. I eat, contribute when asked, and maintain my role.
It’s professional. Appropriate.
Across the room, Danny laughs at something Cam said. My eyes betray me and tangle with his for half a second too long.
Barely noticeable. I hope.
After dinner, I escape to my room. It’s barely eight-thirty, and I’m exhausted from maintaining this facade.
My phone buzzes.
Can I see you tonight?
I stare at the question. Every rational part of my brain screamsfuck, no.
But I miss him.
Midnight. Give everyone time to settle in. Be careful.
I will.
