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Patty throws his protein drink in the trash. “All our luck’s run out ever since your girl ended things, Tremblay. She messing with your head?”

“She’s not my girl,” I grit out, ripping my phone from my locker to find a string of texts.

Morgan

You didn’t answer my call last night.

Morgan

I’m coming to your game against Seattle in March.

Morgan

I want to see you, please.

Morgan

Call me. I miss you.

I jerk toward the screen at the last message.

Nina

I forgot to tell you that you left your beanie at my place. Need me to bring it to you?

I drop my phone, snatching my navy beanie in the stall. I always pack it for away games. Otherwise, it’s bad luck. Yeah, it’s ridiculous, but it’s more of a comfort thing.

I was wearing it the day I got my first shutout, so I always carry it now. I quickly flip the fabric inside out, searching for that signature stitch from my mom. May all of your dreams be as wild as you. It's not there.

“Shit,” I mutter, tossing the useless beanie in the stall. “How’d I forget?”

“What is it?” Patty asks.

“I left my lucky beanie at Nina’s place.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, the atmosphere in the locker room shifts. The air thickens with tension as everyone exchanges uneasy glances. No one dares to challenge me, but they all move uncomfortably in their gear like one wrong word will tip the scales of luck.

Cruz looks me dead in the eyes. “You're talking about that navy beanie your mom stitched? The one you almost punched me for touching? The one you pack for every away game because it’s good luck? That beanie?”

“Yeah. I gave it to Nina because she was cold and left it there.”

Cruz grabs me by my jersey, getting all up in my face. “You need to call her and see if she can bring you your beanie. That’s why you’re playing like shit.”

“Tone it down. I’m not playing like shit because I don’t have my beanie. I’m just off today.” I push him back, but he’s got a strong hold. “I’m not calling her. We’ll be fine.”

“Call her.” His grip tightens on me. “Call her right the fuck now or I will.”

“No,” I grit out. “I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?” he asks. “Who cares if she’s not a doctor? Yeah, she’s way too young for an old man like you, but it’s cool as shit that she does pottery. Call her.”

I flinch at Cruz’s comment. “I know I’m too old for her. You don’t need to tell me.”

Nina’s probably out partying and sleeping with strangers—as she should be doing in her twenties. I was the same. There are plenty of women in this world.

I’ll find someone else after the ¡Vamos! event. I’m committed to Nina until then, but I’m not talking to her more than necessary. I already can’t stop thinking about the way she was grinding all over my dick, but every time I remember her age, I wince a bit.

Patty and Cruz exchange a glance like they’re plotting something. In an instant, Cruz lunges at me. I jolt, but Patty grabs my elbows, holding me in check.