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It didn’t take a genius to understand what he was saying—Eli was here because of his talents. Period.

Eli understood that. He did. But didn’t being part of a team mean stepping up to participate in all sorts of team-related activities, whether or not they happened on the ice?

“Have you talked to Zanetti about any of this?” Friedle asked.

“Why would I?”

“He’s your mentor.”

“He was,” Eli pointed out. “Last year.”

“Just because you’re not technically a rookie anymore doesn’t mean Zanetti disappears as a resource. He’s there. He’s got a zillion years of experience that you don’t. Use him. Now come on. We’ve got three minutes to catch the bus.”

Nolan was already on the bus when Eli boarded, seated next to his dad. They were laughing about something, which was cute to see. Nolan winked at Eli, sending a flutter through his chest.

He’d tried to convince Nolan to come with him to Vancouver, but Nolan had to work.

“Don’t you get vacation days?” Eli had asked this morning after they’d woken up curled around each other in Nolan’s hotel room bed, where Eli had snuck to the night before like a teenager sneaking into his boyfriend’s cabin at camp.

“If I was a contract employee, maybe,” Nolan had said, all sexily sleep-mussed. “But I’m an independent contractor.”

“You make your own hours then.”

“Yes.” Nolan had kissed him, a brief press of lips on lips. “But I still can’t go. I need to work.”

“Damn your principles. Why do I find it so hot that you have them?”

Nolan had laughed, and the huskiness to it had stayed with Eli all day, even as he chose a seat by the window and wished Nolan had said yes.

chapter

twelve

“Who do you go to when you have a problem?”

“Depends,” Deeley said on the interview playback Nolan was listening to with his earbuds in.

“On what?” Nolan heard himself ask.

“What the problem is.”

“Fair enough. Say you’re having a problem with a teammate.”

“Dabbs,” Deeley said instantly. “He’s team captain for a reason.”

“What if the problem is that you’ve realized you’ve been getting less ice time during games?”

“Oof. I’d probably start with Zanetti. As the oldest guy on the team, he’s seen it all, so he might have some perspective on why I’m getting less ice time. Then I’d simply go to Coach Madolora.”

Nolan hit pause on the recording and jotted down notes. In the few weeks he’d been at this job, he hadn’t formed any conclusions yet—his research into team culture was only in its first stage—but some interesting patterns were developing. Nothing definitive yet as he’d only conducted a handful of interviews with players and staff, but what he had so far was beginning to frame how stage two of his Trailblazers culture stress test would go.

He sent an email to Roman Kinsey requesting a meeting for the following week so he could provide a status update, though he didn’t expect a response back for another several hours. At almost one in the morning, Roman was no doubt doing the smart thing—sleeping.

Nolan wasn’t sleeping because Eli’s flight from Vancouver was about to touch down any minute, and he wanted to make sure Eli arrived safely. He refreshed the flight status page on his phone and⁠—

Eli had landed eight minutes ago.

Nolan: