Page 49 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

Everyone around him groaned, Sammy wrinkling his nose dramatically. “You’re cheating. I know you’re cheating.”

“I mean, I’m not above cheating.…You guys just aren’t good enough for me to need to.”

“Shake out your sleeves,” Sammy demanded.

Auston grinned. Slowly, he reached into one of his shirt sleeves, making a show of wiggling his hand inside. He gasped theatrically and took his hand out with a flourish, middle finger up.

Noah laughed loudly as Sammy gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “You suck. I’m going to sit with Chase.”

Auston flicked his gaze to where Sammy was pointing, just catching Chase peering over the back of a seat like a little kid.

“He knows he can play too, right?” Auston grumbled.

There were general snorts and pointed looks directed his way, and, okay. Auston could maybe admit—to himself, in the privacy of his mind—that he was a little tough on the kid. In his defence, the kid didn’t care—he hadn’t smelt distressed once in the whole season, which was quite the fucking feat for anybody, let alone a rookie.

And, sure, Auston could soften up, but he’d decided to focus his energy on the rest of the team.

Charlie was right. Auston had spent his whole career building the legacy of a leader, and he wasn’t going to just throw that away his last year in the league.

So he actually hung out with his teammates. Took them out to a good steakhouse for dinner, even bought them a few drinks.

Milla, as everyone called Vincent Alamilla, was one of the younger guys, and seemed particularly interested in Auston’s experience.

“Was it harder to get the cup the first time or the second in the back-to-back?” he asked.

Auston chewed on a piece of steak as he thought about it. “Honestly, it was fucking hard both times. There’s a sort of…boost you get at the start of the off-season. You’ve made it, you’re ready, and you have it in you to go full force. After three rounds, though? It’s pure fucking perseverance. No matter your mentality or how much belief is in the room, your body is exhausted, you’re beat up, and you have to find it in you to have more than the opposing team.”

Milla nodded, brown eyes wide and bright, taking it all in.

Jimmy, one of the guys on the third line, piped up. “What’s harder, making it to the finals and losing, or being kicked off the first round?”

Some of the guys groaned in sympathetic pain. “Man,” Auston laughed, “the loss itself is the same. But when the sting leaves, losing in the finals is a lot better—you proved something, right? To yourself, to your team, to others. That kind of pressure isn’t for everyone, but it works on a winning team, I think.”

He was peppered with questions for the rest of dinner. Noah seemed engaged but kept mostly quiet. Auston made a mental note to sit down with him and answer any stuff he was wondering about but was too self-conscious to dig into in public.

The kid was a good captain; he just needed time to mature fully into the role.

Honestly, it felt good to be interrogated. It proved that Auston hadn’t ruined anything by being closed off the past couple of months.

It was liberating to shake the crust of bitterness that had built up the last few years, to live in the present instead of drifting from nostalgia for the past and hopelessness for the future.

The only person who seemed uninterested in what Auston had to say was Chase. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that the kid spent the whole dinner looking off into the distance or frowning at his plate—it was clear Chase didn’t like him, and the feeling was mutual.

Auston didn’t care about Chase’s disinterest…and yet his gaze kept getting snagged on Chase’s pale, surly face, a scab Auston kept scratching at.

Everybody was chipper and smiling as they returned to the hotel, slapping him on the back and ribbing him for getting the tab.

Auston took it happily. This was what being a veteran was supposed to be, not sitting in the corner, hunched like a mopey gargoyle defending its castle.

He was tired but relaxed as he made it to his hotel room for the night. He washed off the plane smell and put on something comfortable, turning on the TV and flicking it to a sports channel before settling on the bed. It was only later that he thought to check his phone, grinning when he saw there was a text waiting for him.

Charlie

Hey daddy

Aunix

Hey, baby. Good day?