Page 3 of Double Puck

You're being traded.

Both of his brothers are now watching him carefully.

Mack points a thick finger at him. "Don't you fucking dare."

“Relax, man.” Beck flicks the lighter. A small orange flame jumps to life between us. “I’m just improving the presentation.”

Beck grins and lowers the flame, not looking away from me once as he touches the flame to the liquid. Blue fire ripples across the rum and the surrounding players start cheering.

Beck lifts the burning glass in my direction.

“To knowing exactly when you’re no longer wanted,” he calls for a toast.

Declan finally reaches for the glass. “Beck. Come on…”

But Beck moves faster. He blows out the flame, throws the shot back, and slams the empty glass onto the bar.

The crowd cheers. Because that's what crowds do around Beck Morrison.

They follow his lead.

They laugh when he laughs. They drink when he drinks.

Goddammit. The man is a walking liability.

And somehow, I’m the bitch for recommending the team trade him before his chaos helps drag this entire franchise under?

Mack looks at me from across the bar as if I personally handed Beck the lighter.

Here's what nobody at this party understands: I don't enjoy this.

I don't enjoy being the woman everyone watches when the laughter goes awkward. I don't enjoy the fact that Beck Morrison, the man who just helped win the biggest game in franchise history, had to hear his professional obituary tonight.

But enjoying a decision has never been the same as making the correct one.

Yes, Beck Morrison is talented. He's popular, and highly marketable.

He is also statistically the weakest of the three brothers on this roster.

Both things can be true.

They have to be. Because I can't afford to be wrong about this.

I return to my phone and start drafting a follow-up note for tomorrow's meeting, because that's what I do when things get uncomfortable. I get back to work.

A cold glass presses against my forearm.

“Here. Drink this,” Josie says, shoving a cocktail into my hand. “Not because I forgive you for ruining the best night of my life—”

“I submitted a roster recommendation.”

“Yeah. And I'm temporarily choosing romance because Declan told me he loves me tonight, and I refuse to let your statistics ruin what I just spent three months working for.” She lifts her drink toward mine, eyes steady. “So consider this a temporary ceasefire.”

“How generous.”

Josie settles onto the stool beside me. "Well, you just dropped the biggest bombshell of the night. The whole room felt that."

"Second biggest," I correct, because as my mother would tell you, I can't help but be right. "Declan's total declaration of love for you was the headliner, for sure. My trade recommendation is barely intermission entertainment."