Page 76 of These Wicked Hearts

I huff a laugh through my nose. “You picked the wrong sport and location to live in, then.”

Theo smiles at that. Slow and easy. “Love the sport. Hate that it’s a winter sport. I should be on a beach somewhere right now where it never drops below eighty.”

“Ew I hate the heat.”

“Crazy.”

“Says the guy voluntarily living in Vermont.”

That pulls another laugh from him. For a moment we stand there listening to the quiet. It’s feels strangely easy out here, and I don’t feel the need to fill the silence like I always do to avoid awkward lulls.

Theo glances toward me. “Sorry about the jersey thing earlier. I didn’t mean to come off like a dick.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

And I do. There are some things people ask about because they care, and then some things they ask about because they want to own a piece of you afterward. That’s what getting interviewed is like. You say things to the media and then fans of the sport can twist and morph your words to suit themselves. We learn the difference fast.

Theo studies me for a second longer, like he knows there’s more I’m not saying. “So, how are you really doing?” he asks. “We can’t believe you moved. Andre made sense. You, not so much. You, Oli, and Grey on a line meant trouble for everyone else.”

Something twists painfully in my chest. I miss it more than I let myself admit. There’s no point. What’s done is done. “Yeah, well . . . Grey got injured, so I guess that would have ended either way.”

Theo’s expression softens immediately. “Real sorry to hear that. I’d hate to go out that way.”

“Are you retiring soon?”

Theo cocks one perfectly groomed brow. “Are you calling me old?”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Good answer.”

I smile despite myself while he laughs.

“Not yet. Still got some work to do.”

There’s something deeply confident about the way he says it. Not arrogant, just certain. Like he already sees the ending he wants and will do anything he can to get there.

“Can I ask something?” I say carefully. “Even if it’s not my business?”

“Maybe.”

“Why did you move to Vermont? Like on purpose.”

He snorts, shaking his head. Everybody in the league knows Vermont is the worst. I’m not sure how the culture has been since their complete staffing overhaul and some new players, but we all know coming here is a career death sentence. Bad winters. Small market. Constant rebuilds year after year.

Theo could’ve played anywhere.

“I actually used to play here,” he says. “My family moved up this way when I was nine. My mom married a man from here, and I joined the local little league team.” His eyes soften, somewhere far away. “This place is special to me. I wanted to live here again.” I think he’s done, but he surprises me. “So, bad management. We’re having a rough season.” He shrugs. “Everybody has them.”

“Your team seems to have one every season.”

“Ouch. Damn.” He laughs, leaning against the railing. “I know where we stand, but I wouldn’t play for anyone else.”

I don’t fully understand that kind of loyalty. “You can only do so much.”

“We’ve got good players,” he says. “They’re just young. They have to find their footing. When you’re that young, you don’t understand the shift playing for the pros. You should remember.”

He’s right. I do. You can train, play, and grind your body to dust, but nothing prepares you for the big league better than playing for it.