“We really don’t.”
“It’s about Winnie.”
I keep walking. “Not interested.”
“Banks.”
“I said—”
“The guys are out of control.” He steps in front of me, blocking my path to the locker room. “You’ve seen it. Practice has been a disaster all week. Nobody can focus. Coach is losing his mind. And it’s only getting worse.”
I grunt. He’s not wrong. I noticed the same thing.
“She’s miserable,” Zayden continues. “Tori says she’s ready to quit. Two weeks in, and she’s already looking for other jobs.”
That hits harder than I want it to. I think about her in that hallway yesterday, hands shaking after Grayson finally walked away. The way she squared her shoulders and kept going like nothing happened.
“That’s her business,” I say. “Not mine.”
“It’s everyone’s business when it’s affecting the team.” Zayden crosses his arms. “We have a playoff push coming up. We can’t afford to be this distracted.”
It’s the same thought that kept me awake last night. “Then tell the guys to grow up.”
“You think I haven’t tried? Logan listens for about five minutes, then forgets. Grayson doesn’t listen at all. The rest just laugh it off.” He shakes his head. “They need something bigger. Something that actuallymakesthem back off.”
I don’t like where this is going.
“Tori had this idea,” Zayden says slowly. “It’s kind of crazy, but—”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what it is.” He chuckles, shaking his head at me. “She thought maybe if the guys believed Winnie was with someone—someone they wouldn’t mess with—they’d back off. That’s all.”
I stop walking.
“Someone intimidating,” he continues. “Someone they’re actually scared of. Someone who could make it very clear that she’s off-limits.”
I turn around slowly. “You’re talking about me.”
“I’m not talking about anyone. I’m just saying what Tori said.”
“You want me to pretend to be her boyfriend.”
“I want the team to stop acting like idiots so we can win some hockey games.” He shrugs. “How that happens is up to you.”
I stare at him for a long moment. He stares back, not flinching. That’s one thing about Zayden—he’s not scared of me. Never has been. It’s annoying.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” I say finally.
“Probably.”
“I don’t do fake anything.”
“I know.”
“I don’t do relationships. Fake or otherwise.”
“I know that too.”
